Growing Up Finnish

9 November 2017

Maailman Onnellisimmat Lapset: Kasvatus hollantiliasittain is the title of our book in Finnish. Google translate gives me ‘World’s Most Happy Children: Breeding by Dutchman’. Rina and I did breed with Dutchmen so it’s not wrong there, I suppose. The book had some lovely press in Finland so I might tentatively say that the Fins are now being inspired by the Dutch. But what I already knew was that the Dutch are inspired by the Finnish. Finland ranked fourth in Unicef’s 2013 table of happy children and has consistently come top in world education tables.

While we were on our book tour, I decided to ask some of the people around us about the way their children were growing up. I was particularly interested in how the education system works given its long-term excellent Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) ratings. A Finnish school opened in Amsterdam a couple of years ago but all I knew about it was that it was very liberal, timetable-free and featured project-based learning.

Aleksi Siltala, our publisher, has two children in their early twenties. He started by explaining that Finnish people have a pessimistic tendency to react “that won’t work out well” to any new ideas. It leads to conservatism and aiming for the safest option. Finnish parents worry about getting their children into the right schools, and there is pressure to succeed. He loves the way the Dutch are more relaxed and teach their kids to be independent. “It seems such a luxury not to be pressured to succeed at school and to be allowed to cycle there,” he said. “Cycling networks are improving in Helsinki, though.”

One of the reasons it’s so important to succeed at school in Finland is because university entrance is incredibly tough and there’s a shortage of places. Only ten percent of applicants get into each university apparently. Parents usually end up hiring private tutors to get their kids through the entrance exams. Aleksi got through himself but not on his first try, and neither did his son. His daughter came to Holland to study. It’s actually very common for Fins to study abroad, sidestepping the admissions hurdle.

We were interviewed for Perhe family magazine by Sanna Sommers who has three children aged 3, 8 and 11. She told us that from the first grade onwards – age 7 and up – Finnish children have traditionally been latchkey kids. It was always considered normal for them to spend three hours alone in the afternoon before their parents returned from work. But attitudes are changing. Her generation thinks that this is scary for the kids and are looking for other alternatives. Now after-school clubs are becoming popular in the cities.

Sanna was very interested in the Dutch approach to sports clubs and hobbies. Hobbies here cause stress for parents and children, she said. “They are expensive and time-consuming because the children have to be driven there. You are also expected to help out – there is compulsory voluntary work as a parent. Children from 7 onwards must have a hobby as a form of self-improvement, and they are not seen as recreation. Sports are competitive and taken very seriously.”

One other Dutch thing she was very charmed by was the idea of post-natal maternity nurses. In Finland, the medical system takes care of a pregnant mother till birth then focusses on the children, like in most western countries.

At Otava, we were interviewed over lunch by Riikka Heinonen, a poet and journalist who explained the Finnish school system. I happened to mention that the one thing my son had found better about English schools than Dutch was school dinners (warm meals at lunchtime). She told me hot school meals were free in Finland for all children, from the first year right until their final year at age 18 or 19. The Fins start the day early at 8am and eat at 11am. School for older children is until 4pm and dinner is often at 4.30pm.

There are no private schools, which was lucky. Earlier in the day I’d heard that discussing money with Fins was a taboo. School is free but you have to pay for books. Primary has six grades and finishes around 1-2pm, middle school three grades and secondary school has three grades. At 15/16 the children are streamed (three years later than in Holland). You need certain grades (8,5/9 out of 10) to go to the top stream and there’s competition for the ‘good schools’. It’s easier to get a place further away but that means more travelling. All children take the same type of exams and core subjects are Swedish, English, Finnish, Maths. Additional subjects are dependent on whether the arts or science option has been taken.

Since our sons are the same age, Riikka and I compared notes on their timetables. Her 13-year-old son has school from 8am to 4pm each day, while mine starts half an hour later. Finnish teenagers have lots of homework but there is much less when they’re younger, which very similar to Holland. My son Ben spends at least an hour a day on homework too, in his third year of secondary. Riikka’s son has drama club on Thursdays from 6-8pm which tires him out. Ben has his bouldering club at the same time, and while he doesn’t tend to do homework on Saturdays, Riikka’s son keeps Sundays free. On the surface, there’s not much difference! Yet something somewhere in the system keeps those Finnish kids at the top of the education tables.The pressure? The tutors? The project-based learning and late streaming? I guess I’ll just have to go back to Finland and do more research!

What Finland Can Learn from the Dutch

5 September 2017

We’ve gone Finnish! Our Finnish publisher Siltala translated our book and invited us to come right on over to their side of the pond – Helsinki, Finland. And we gladly accepted!

We even managed to spot our book in a local bookstore downtown, have some honest talks about parenting with new friends, and immerse ourselves in Finnish culture.

What could the Nordic countries (Finland, Denmark, Iceland, Sweden, Norway) learn from the Dutch? They too have a very similar parenting philosophy – the importance of outdoor play, emphasis on play-based learning for babies, toddlers and kindergartners, and age-appropriate independence.

Finnish Journalist Anu Karttunen’s “Dutch Children are the world’s happiest – 5 things that differ from the Finnish Approach ” lends us her insight. Here are some things that we’ve learned the Dutch do differently, and the Finnish people can get inspiration from:

Mothering the Mother
Nowhere in the world is “mothering the mother” taken more seriously than in the Netherlands. Each mother is entitled to a maternity nurse at home to help her with taking care of her newborn and postpartum recovery. Sorry, Germany and the United Kingdom – though nurses do come by the house to do medical checks on a newborn baby and the recovering mother, they do not go Dutch – cooking, cleaning, teaching parents how to take care of the baby and allowing mom to get some rest.


Work-Life Balance
The Dutch Center for Statistics once again confirmed what most of us already know – the Dutch, by pure choice, work the least amount of hours in the entire European Union. On average, Dutch men work thirty-six hours a week and women work twenty-six. According to the researchers, because of the high productivity of the Dutch, they can work much less. Personally, I also think that the Dutch pragmatic approach to thrifty living and comparatively generous social system (from an American perspective) enables them more freedom from the modern drudgery of work.

“Relaxed” Approach to School
Even though Finland has arguably the “best” education system in the world, they may gain some inspiration from the relaxed Dutch approach to schooling.  According to the HBSC research, there seems to be a lot less pressure and stress among Dutch students compared to their Finnish peers. And somehow, with this relaxed approach, the Netherlands still the highest concentration of world-renowned research universities.

Chocolate for Breakfast
While the traditional Finnish breakfast sausages are lovely, who wouldn’t be happy having chocolate sprinkles on a slice of buttered white bread first thing in the morning? 😉

 

Mind you, life is also fantastic in Finland, especially when it comes to raising families. I appreciate the quirkiness of the culture and local art scene. I also love the ban on smoking in public places.  And even though they have dark, depressing and long winters, they’ve come to embrace light – great lighting design, safety reflectors, candles and cozy get-togethers with friends. I will definitely want to bring my family here to further explore the “Land of a Thousand Lakes” – Finland boasts 187,888 lakes within its territories- and of course, to witness the Northern Lights.

By the end of our trip, Michele said, “I already feel at home.” I echoed her sentiment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Translated by Terhi Vartia. For more details of the Finnish translation of our book, check out our publisher’s page.

 

 

This is Thirty-Five

23 May 2017



I welcomed my 35th birthday listening to the wise words of rapper 50 Cent, “Go shawty, it’s your birthday. We gon’ party like it’s yo birthday.” Except, you wouldn’t find me at the club. I  spent it by having coffee at my favorite local café with a dear friend, going to the village farmer’s market, stealing some time to write, and cooking and enjoying an elaborate dinner for a party of six.

I’ve also just gotten home from a whirlwind, four-week book tour and family vacation to San Francisco, New York, Washington D.C., and a farm in England. There’s nothing like a life-changing trip (first book tour ever) and a landmark birthday as the impetus for doing some serious soul-searching and taking an honest inventory of my life.

So since it was my birthday, I’m taking this opportunity to share what I know being thirty-five years young:


Less is More

There’s a reason why Marie Kondo’s “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” continues to spark a decluttering craze around the planet. Her tough love approach to only holding on to what’s essential and what sparks joy is transformative. Having less stuff really does lead to genuine bliss – I’ve made going Kondo a yearly endeavor.

Not Giving a F*ck (Valuing My Time and Mastering the Art of Saying “No”)

Sarah Knight’s “The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck: How to Stop Spending Time You Don’t Have with People You Don’t Like Doing Things You Don’t Want To Do” sums it all up. I’ve learned to value my time and no longer feel socially obligated to being around people and situations that do not bring me joy. In a world of saying “yes” and the real fear of missing out, it’s no wonder that people find it nearly impossible to have a work-life balance. I’ve learned that being able to say “no” helps me establish clear boundaries and to accomplish the goals I have set out.

Finding Joy in the Mundane and the Ordinary

A large part of my reality involves managing the household – laundry, cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping and random errands. Rinse and repeat. There’s also being a mother to two little boys. I’ve learned to see the daily grind as signs of privilege and blessings – that we have clothes to wear, a roof over our head, more than enough food on the table, and the luxury to have a boring reality that requires maintenance, love, and care.

Being Grateful and Acknowledging My Privilege

It’s easy to count the strikes against me: I’m a person of color (Filipino ancestry), a woman, short, and not born with a trust fund. I also acknowledge my privilege as a middle-class, highly educated American married to a Dutch citizen and raising my children in the Netherlands. I am immensely grateful for this lot I have in life. And though the creative life (author) is rife with a lot of insecurity (personal and financial), inklings of self-doubt, brick walls, and frustrations, it is a privilege to be able to pursue it. Whatever successes I do have in life, it is also not something I accomplished alone. It’s because of all the love and support of kind souls, friends, family, and strangers that have helped me get to where I am today.

Saying What I Mean and Meaning What I Say

Horton, the elephant in Dr. Seuss’ “Horton Hatches the Egg”, once said,  “I meant what I said and I said what I meant. An elephant’s faithful one-hundred percent”. Dutch directness is one of my favorites aspects of Dutch culture. Though it might at times be challenging when speaking to American, British, and Asians and basically everyone else who are accustomed to more indirect and polite way of communicating, I love no longer having to second guess and wonder what people mean. There’s definitely a lot less anxiety and stress over it.

Loving the Skin I’m In

It took my thirty-five years to genuinely love and accept my dark complexion and my wobbly bits. With regular applications of sunscreen, I’m showing my children not to be afraid to turn their face towards the sun. Generations of backward colonial mentality stops with me. And since this is the only life that I get to have (that I am aware of), I might as well enjoy the only body given to me. Part of that, of course, is eating relatively healthy with foods that feed both my body and soul, and regular exercise.

Being a Work-In-Progress

I’ve come to realize and accept the fact that I will always be a work-in-progress. I’m only human after all. And that part of being alive is self-discovery. I hope never to stop wanting to learn, to always discover new things and let my curiosity lead the way.

Kindness and Love

Always choose kindness and love in whatever you do. It’s essential to living a life well lived.

On Writing, Motherhood and Mentorship

15 November 2016

lifteachotherup_libbyvanderploeg

“Hi, I’m Michele” said this impossibly gorgeous and tall British woman. “I’m Rina.” I replied.


I found myself bracing the frigid February wind to meet my new co-author. And like on any blind date, I was anxious and self-conscious. Just three months beforehand, another random stranger, Marianne Velmans, had emailed me suggesting I
write a book. After reading my preliminary book proposal, she asked – ever so delicately – if I would consider working with her former colleague Michele Hutchison.   


The story that Marianne had in mind was best written by two mothers – one who could write about pregnancy, babies and toddlers (early motherhood) and another who could write about childhood, schools, and teenagers. I wholeheartedly agreed with her. And so did Michele.


But could we trust Marianne to be the right matchmaker? The chemistry had to be just right.


Michele and I decided to meet in Utrecht – a city conveniently located in the middle of Holland, between her home in Amsterdam and mine in Doorn. I suggested the Japanese restaurant Moto because of my pregnancy cravings for udon and tempura.


I tried my best to come with no expectations and meeting in a public place would give a convenient exit strategy just in case it got awkward. I had a sneaking suspicion that she had similar sentiments too.

 

But when I saw her, I was already smitten and it seemed as I was saying hello to an old friend I hadn’t seen for a very long time.


I don’t remember much of our first meeting to be honest. But there were two particular instances that I can recall which left a lasting impression.


The first one was her gently letting me know how intense our relationship and contact would be. “You do know that we would regularly have to be in contact with each other,” said Michele.

 

“Sure, no problem.” I said. I could always use another real life friend. After all, most of my friends were what I called online friends – people who I regularly connected to on Facebook groups and messenger without ever having met in the real world, or who simply live thousands of miles away. My life was conventionally boring, filled with domestic chores, running after my three year-old son and being pregnant.

What I only understood afterwards, well into writing The Happiest Kids in the World was just how intense our communication had to be. We really had to be the best of friends, or it just wouldn’t work. Only after I co-wrote our book could I fully appreciate Michele’s kindness, openness and willingness to work with me. She also became my mentor, teaching me actually how to write a book. I’m ambitious (both by nature and as a product of Tiger parenting) but suffice to say, I had no idea what writing a book actually entailed until I started  doing it. And I guarantee you, it is not for the faint of heart to write a nonfiction book filled with interviews and an honest account of a foreign culture.


I also remember just how unexpectedly supportive Marianne and Michele were about me being an aspiring author and a mother. I blurted out, “Before agreeing with working with me, I have to tell you something. I’m pregnant.”


“Oh, I know. Marianne told me,” replied Michele.

I smiled. Marianne also had a similar positive reaction when I told her.  “Congratulations! What wonderful news, Rina.”


“You’re still willing to work with me?” I said.


“Of course!  Why should your pregnancy prevent you from writing this book?” Marianne said.


Where I come from, it seems that
motherhood and writing are incompatible. The creative life – if one wants to take it seriously and do well – is often romanticized as demanding all one’s attention, leaving little room and time for distractions. Motherhood – the all-consuming, martyr mother image that my American culture puts on a pedestal – demands so much energy that supposedly, not much is left over for creative endeavors, or even work at all.


Yet Michele and Marianne knew another secret. That one can reconcile one’s identities as both a
mother and a writer. The subject matter, after all, was about parenting the happiest kids in the world. Surely mothers should know a bit about happiness too. And apparently, Michele and Marianne were ready to show me the way.


(Lift Each Other GIF courtesy of illustrator and designer Libby VanderPloeg)

How We Became a Writing Duo

26 October 2016

how-we-became-writing-duo

 

I’ve just removed the card from Restaurant Moto in Utrecht from my wallet. I glanced to the right when walking down the Drieharingstraat the other night and noticed with a pang that it had gone. In February 2015, I’d visited the Japanese restaurant for the first time on a blind date with Rina. But my behind-the-scenes story goes way back, to 2002 when I’d just started working as a commissioning editor at Doubleday publishing house in London. It was a job I would keep for just two years, until 2004, when thirty-seven weeks pregnant with my son Benjamin, I moved to Amsterdam.

Working at Doubleday was like stepping into a  warm bath. Tucked away in Ealing, it was far from the buzz of Soho, the Strand and Covent Garden, where many other publishers are based. Transworld – the group Doubleday belongs to – prided itself on its friendly atmosphere. Workers were part of a large family with gentle father figure Larry Finlay at its head. Larry was the kind of person who would give you unsolicited advice on breastfeeding, keenly in touch with his feminine side. Marianne Velmans, my direct boss, was also a nurturing, guiding presence, eager to help her young editors make their way to the top of the business. It was the kind of place people joined and never left, there was very low staff turnover. And unusual for the cut-throat atmosphere of London companies, it was understanding of family commitments; many mothers and fathers were able to juggle parenthood and careers there.

I too imaged myself tucked away in Ealing commissioning and editing wonderful books for a great many years to come. But life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. I married a Dutchman and ended up in Amsterdam on maternity leave. And though I was planning to return to my fabulous job in London, the advantages of bringing up kids in Holland got in the way. I ended up finding a job in Dutch publishing and it wasn’t until a merger had me commuting for 2.5 hours a day that I decided to go freelance. I’d been translating Dutch books on the side for some years and now I made this my sole business. Translation would be my career. It was similar to editing but even more engrossing, since you’d spend not weeks but months working closely on a text.

Until I got a phone call from my old boss Marianne. Might I be interested in co-writing a book on why Dutch children were the happiest in the world? She already had one writer, an American expat with a young son, but she wanted someone to write about older kids and add a British perspective to the mix. She’d thought of me because she knew I’d stayed in Amsterdam precisely because of the advantages of bringing up children here, and I had plenty of experience of working closely with authors in an editorial role. Perhaps I could bring both skills to bear.

 

 

“Behind the Scenes of The Happiest Kids in the World” are blog posts that give readers a sneak peak in the making of our forthcoming book The Happiest Kids in The World.

Next time: Rina’s account of what happened in the Japanese restaurant…

P.S. Can’t wait to get your hands on the book and you currently live in Europe? Pre-order here. If you happen to live in the United States, you can get your copy here.

Behind the Scenes of The Happiest Kids in the World

19 October 2016

“Behind the Scenes of The Happiest Kids in the World” are blog posts that give readers a sneak peak in the making of our forthcoming book The Happiest Kids in The World.

Sneak peak Happiest Kids

As I am writing this blog post in my home office, the soft autumn light from my window filters through. The leaves are beginning to turn shades of yellow, red, orange and brown – and as they fall, neighbours collect them into piles on the street which children will find themselves unable to resist jumping into.  It’s starting to get dark earlier. The crisp air officially signals the beginning of sweater-and-wool-coat-season.

 

For many, October is still fresh with all the back-to-school energy and momentum of work obligations and deadlines.  For me, it’s a special anniversary.  Two years ago, I received an unsolicited email from Marianne Velmans- a publisher in London. The subject heading: ” Book proposal?” A simple but life altering request.


Marianne had been following my blog and loved what she read. She asked me if I would consider turning my writing into why Dutch children are the happiest in the world into a book. She was particularly interested in me divulging the secrets of Dutch parenting.

 

Me? Rina Mae? The stay-at-home American mom who lives in a Dutch village, scribbling down random observations in my blog? Even more so – I didn’t know anyone who had ever written a book. Being intimately familiar with poverty, my parents – like millions of other Filipino parents – preferred their children pursuing professions with more job security and stability – medicine, law, teaching, or engineering. So wanting to be the dutiful daughter, I had my eyes set on one day becoming a doctor. But “life” happened – I fell in love with a Dutch guy and found myself living in Holland to start a family.


But I have always loved to write. Motherhood actually made me a better writer. And I also recognise that living in the Netherlands with a supportive husband, healthy kids and access to great childcare when the need arises gives me the space and freedom to develop my writing. Yet, I never imagined that what was essentially a hobby to connect with other moms on the internet could actually blossom into a real profession.

 

Here was my chance to have a voice as a published author, and to write about what I am passionate about – how to raise kind, self-assured, happy children using an intuitive, relaxed approach, the Dutch way.   

 

I managed to collect my nerves and give her a call. Unsurprising, I was a bumbling nervous idiot, rambling incoherent sentences interspersed with thank yous. But Marianne was gracious enough to see my potential. Not only had I “met” my future publishing editor, but I had gained a mentor with a generous spirit to hold my hand and show me the way.
Sneak Peak

Stay tuned for the next blog post in the series: Michele’s story. How we became a writing duo.
P.S. Can’t wait to get your hands on the book and you currently live in Europe? Pre-order here. If you happen to live in the United States, you can get your copy here.