In Hyper Education: Why Good Schools, Good Grades, and Good Behavior Are Not Enough, Pawan Dhingra pulls back the curtain on a parenting movement that has quietly redefined childhood for many Indian American families — one where Kumon folders, math olympiads, weekend test prep, and spelling bees form the rhythm of everyday life. It’s a world where academic achievement isn’t just encouraged — it’s meticulously engineered, and seen as a necessary counterbalance to what many parents perceive as the shortcomings of the American education system and culture.
At first glance, Dhingra’s work might seem like a celebration of academic ambition. But it’s far more layered than that. This is a thoughtful, sometimes uncomfortable, and deeply empathetic exploration of why many Indian American families — despite sending their children to “good schools” and raising well-behaved kids — still feel the need to go above and beyond.
Table of Contents
Why Good Isn’t Good Enough
One of the most persistent themes in the book is the belief among many Indian American parents that “good” schools often aren’t good enough. Dhingra illustrates how this isn’t simply about elitism, but about a deeper frustration: the American school system’s standardized approach often fails to challenge high-achieving students.
With policies like “No Child Left Behind” emphasizing baseline proficiency over excellence, many parents feel their children’s potential is being capped in the classroom. Hyper education, then, becomes a response — a parallel educational track that operates after hours and on weekends, designed to stretch what school cannot (or will not) offer.
It’s not just Indian American families who share this concern. Dhingra notes that white middle-class parents also invest in enrichment programs for similar reasons — but with less intensity and without the same cultural stakes.
Hyper Education as Cultural Armor
For Indian American families, the pursuit of enrichment is not just about grades or Ivy League dreams — it’s about securing a place in American society. Many of these parents, first-generation immigrants themselves, understand what it means to feel like outsiders. They want their children to not just succeed, but to be undeniably excellent — so excellent that their merit cannot be ignored. They understand that they don’t have the assets and the connections of the well-settled families around them. All they can give their children is their own sense of ethics of hard work and competitiveness, which helped them beat the competition and find success in America.
Hyper education becomes a form of cultural armor, protecting children from stereotypes about immigrants, from assumptions of mediocrity, and from the racialized biases that persist in schools and workplaces. It’s a way to say: We belong here, and we’re not just catching up — we’re leading.
The Spelling Bee as a Stage for Identity
One of the most compelling sections of the book is Dhingra’s take on the Scripps National Spelling Bee — a hyper-American institution that has, in recent decades, become a stage for Indian American excellence.
Dhingra doesn’t settle for surface-level analysis. He shows how the spelling bee serves as a strategic cultural bridge. It’s an event that rewards discipline, repetition, and precision — all values emphasized in many Indian households. Unlike team sports, which are often social, unpredictable, and deeply rooted in American cultural norms, the spelling bee is solitary, orderly, and academic.
In other words, it allows Indian American families to participate in American culture without abandoning their own values. Mastery of English — the language of opportunity — becomes a signal of both assimilation and superiority. But Dhingra is careful to point out that this isn’t just about ego. It’s about reclaiming space in a society that still doesn’t always know where to place them.
At the same time, he doesn’t romanticize this trend. The book reveals the enormous emotional and logistical costs that come with competitive spelling — the sacrifices made by both parents and children, the weekends lost to study schedules, the community pressure to “keep up.” The spelling bee, Dhingra argues, is not just a quirky interest — it’s a microcosm of hyper education’s deeper goals and tensions.
When Schools Prioritize Sports Over Studies
A recurring source of discomfort for many parents in the book is how American schools often elevate sports above academics. Dhingra shares stories of parents baffled by how star athletes receive more recognition, funding, and community support than top academic performers. In contrast, enrichment communities create spaces where academic prowess is the norm, not the exception.
For some, it’s a way to shield their children from what they see as lower American values — casual attitudes toward school, early exposure to sex and drugs, and a lack of discipline. Hyper education is positioned as an antidote to a culture that appears too permissive and distracted from intellectual growth.
The Pressure Cooker and Its Cracks
While Dhingra captures the strategic brilliance of hyper education, he also doesn’t shy away from its consequences. There are children who burn out. Parents who feel judged if they don’t keep up. Families who lose their weekends, not because they want to, but because they fear the alternative — their child falling behind.
The book doesn’t offer easy answers. But it asks the right questions:
- What happens when academic success becomes the only form of success?
- Can enrichment be empowering without becoming exhausting?
- And is it possible to raise children who are both high-achieving and happy?
A Brilliant but Occasionally Repetitive Read
If there’s a shortcoming in Hyper Education, it’s that some arguments are repeated more than necessary. With tighter editing, the book could have delivered its insights with more punch. That said, the richness of the research — from parent interviews to classroom observations — more than makes up for it.
Final Thoughts
Hyper Education is not just a book about education. It’s a book about parenting, immigration, aspiration, and identity. It’s about the quiet revolution happening in homes across America, where parents are rewriting what it means to prepare a child for the future.
For Indian American families — and increasingly, for others — hyper education isn’t a side hustle. It’s a full-blown philosophy. One that reveals just as much about the American Dream as it does about the gaps in the systems meant to help kids reach it.
