This summer, give them the chance to be kids!

THE HANOI TIMES — I once spent an entire summer solving math problems. By the time the school year started, I was so far ahead of the curriculum that my teacher asked me to help the student sitting next to me. Standing in front of the class, explaining a tricky equation made me feel proud. It was as if I had done something impressive with my vacation.

But the best summers of my life were not the ones that made me smarter.

They were the summers when my parents surprised us by saying, "We're going somewhere new." One year, we took a road trip down the coast of Central Vietnam, swimming at beaches and eating grilled seafood until we couldn’t move. Another summer, we wandered through parts of southern Europe where we enjoyed hot streets, cold museums, and endless walking. Everything tasted like adventure.

There were no grades or worksheets. Just gelato, volleyball, sunburns, and a kind of learning that didn't come with a certificate. Those were the summers when I truly grew up. Not because I improved my skills, but because I had the space to just be.

Now, when I look at my friends' children, I notice something unsettling. They no longer push back against summer school. There are no more questions like, "Why do I have to go?" No protests. Just quiet compliance. It's as if they’ve learned that rest is a privilege or worse, something to feel guilty about.

Let's take Tran My Linh as an example. She's a 35-year-old office worker in Hanoi who signed her nine-year-old son up for a “life skills” summer camp that promised to foster creativity and leadership skills. "They showed me photos of group activities and project-based learning," she said. "But when I picked him up, he looked exhausted. They had him do worksheets all morning and English drills in the afternoon. It felt like school, just with different branding."

Marketing executive Hung Tran of Ho Chi Minh City thought he was giving his daughter a head start by enrolling her in a “junior entrepreneur” course. The course included lessons on financial planning and product design, as well as a final pitch competition. However, his ten-year-old daughter broke down before the presentation. "She never wants to grow up," he admitted. "That's when I realized I had signed her up for my dream, not hers."

I don't oppose learning in the summer. However, I am concerned that we are confusing productivity with growth. Summer is like an unofficial third semester, driven less by curiosity and more by anxiety, the sentiment that our kids will fall behind.

Some parents see their children's early polish - speaking in bullet points and presenting PowerPoints - and call it maturity. But what they see as confidence may actually be hidden exhaustion. Most children don't know how to say: "I'm tired." They just try to do what’s expected of them.

Meanwhile, the "international summer study tour" market is booming. Programs in the United States, Singapore, and Japan promise academic rigor and cultural immersion. These programs often cost between US$4,000 and US$10,000. Minh Anh, a twelve-year-old from Danang, returned from a two-week trip to the US meant to introduce her to Ivy League campuses. "The best part was the baseball game," she said. "We also had to go to Target." When I asked her about the "academic workshops," she shrugged and said: "It was mostly just pre-recorded videos."

The contrast itself isn’t the problem. However, when rest becomes associated with failure and a busy schedule becomes a badge of honor for parents, a different kind of inequality emerges. It's not about income, but about expectations. It's about the idea that a summer without measurable outcomes is a wasted one.

Even more concerning is how many families have been misled, or worse, scammed. In Hanoi, a mother named Nguyen Minh Thu lost nearly $10,000 after registering her sons for a “military-style character-building” camp that she had seen advertised on Facebook. She later found out that the organizers didn't exist. "I didn't check carefully," she said. "I just wanted him to have something impressive on his application next year."

Dr. Hanh Nguyen, an education sociologist in Ho Chi Minh City, calls this the “fear economy of parenting.” She explained: "When parents feel uncertain, they look for packaged solutions." A summer course that offers a certificate seems safer than letting a child spend three days at home feeling bored. However, growth doesn't come from filling time. It comes from meaningful time.”

However, not every family has the same options. Some children travel abroad. Others stay home. Some attend coding or business boot camps or cultural exchanges. Some visit relatives or spend their time in small apartments with little to do. That’s not inherently unjust. However, it becomes a problem when the child who stays home feels like they’ve fallen behind.

After a dinner party, I overheard one father mutter to his son: "You had a whole summer and nothing to show for it." The boy remained silent. Maybe he read three books, or had learned how to care for his baby sister, or maybe just needed time.

Rest is not wasted time. However, we are teaching children that unless an activity can be displayed, quantified, or posted online, it doesn't count.

Every family has its own priorities. As summer begins, perhaps the most radical question we can ask is not "What did you learn?" but "How did you feel?"

If I ever have a niece or nephew, I wouldn't want them to spend the whole break in front of a screen. However, I also wouldn't want them stuck in a schedule they didn't choose. I’d want them to experience the joy of slowing down. To play or to get bored. I want them to know what a real summer feels like.

Not every child knows how to say that they are overwhelmed. Not every parent remembers to ask if their child is enjoying himself or herself.

That’s the problem.

We don't need to cancel all our plans or reject all opportunities. But we should ask ourselves one honest question: Is this what my child needs, or am I afraid they'll miss out on something?

Summer is not just a blank space between school years. It's a season for discovery, not measurement. Let them rest. Let them explore. Let them be kids again.