It's about my 8-year-old's homework, and here it is:
Other than supervised reading time, reviewing of math facts, and studying for a test coming up the next day, homework in elementary school, and possible even through middle school, should be eliminated. Period.
I'll just give that a minute to sink in, parents...because I know it's the after school hour, and if you're reading this, and you have a grade-schooler, he or she might just be terrorizing you over the topic at hand. Ok, moving on.
Homework. I want it abolished. It wastes time and is crazymaking and it's got to go. Parents, dear dear parents, I know a lot of you are thinking it. And you feel like if you say anything you'll be viewed as a useless shirker and irredeemable lazy-ass pig. Lucky for you, I don't give a shit if anyone views me as a useless shirker or a lazy-ass pig, because I probably have even better and more colorful names for anyone who would dare. I might even know some card carrying public school teachers who agree with me wholeheartedly, although I would never mention their names here lest they end up on a black list, or have their laminating machines revoked, or worse. Suffice it to say, dear opposition, if you exist and are reading these words, argue with me if you want to, but I've been watching how this all plays out for almost 4 years now, and it's become more than evident to me that I'm right, you're wrong, get over it.
And here's why.
When my daughter gets off the bus in the afternoon, she's spent. She's had it. She's one of the smartest people I've ever met, and a day of third grade makes her ready to pour herself a martini when she walks through the door. (We DON'T do that, it's an image meant to further my point, don't email me on this or I'll know that you're stupid.) She knows when she gets home that she can have a snack, some downtime, maybe a half-hour of Sponge Bob (which is a hilarious cartoon, so go ahead and judge if you're an intolerable tool of a prig)...and then, well that's when the sad music kicks in to the soundtrack of our afternoon. Because now here comes the shrew tapping her foot, pointing to the clock, and demanding the child sit down and tackle the load in her backpack (and by the way, if she gets severe scoliosis or becomes a hunchback from having to haul that monster around on her 50 lb frame, you can guess who's being billed for any medical expenses not covered by our insurence, it's only fair).
Oh, and about that foot-tapping shrew...you may have guessed who gets that fun job. And it's a crying shame, because all the shrew really wants in her heart to do with her daughter when she gets off the bus is to have some snuggle time, or they could kick back together with a coloring book, or maybe even bust out the treasured miniature tea set to have a chat and sit a spell. You'll just have to excuse the shrew if she'd like to sneak in as many of these moments as she can with the kid since there are pretty much just a few short nanoseconds left before she's grown up and moved out and left me...I mean the shrew. So can you cut us a break?
Answer: no.
Instead what happens is she goes over to her homework spot...I'm sorry, did I say that she goes over to her homework spot? I meant she trudges over there as if there's a root canal with her name on it waiting for her to sit down and enjoy. Then she gets to agonize over a folder full of a mishmash of worksheets, and a couple of workbooks, and what's today's agenda say to do, well that doesn't make sense, whups forgot the spelling book, what's this now, oh, refer to the 20 pound science text to answer the following questions on topics Mommy didn't need to deal with before Advanced Placement bio, but whatever. And math. Draw an array to figure out how to divide 72 by 9. Ok, but first, WTF.
Um, yeah.
So here we are and it's crystal clear that the kid is already cooked, stick a fork in her, she's done. So guess what, it doesn't take much before she's crying and moaning and standing before me with her giant wet eyes--the ones she usually whips out on these occasions are the ones that go, "I'm a 19th-century starving urchin in Merry Ole' England, crust of bread, gov'na?" Oh don't worry, I'm ready for it, she's not going to get the best of me. I gather myself up and start spouting in reasonable mommy language a bunch of horseshit when all I really want to say is Jesus H., Grace, if you'd just chill out and stick with it you'd be done in 20 minutes or less. We'd be on our 8th consecutive Sponge Bob by now and all would be right with the world. But by now the torture has been going on for well over an hour and we flipping HATE each other.
Oh, and by the way, if there's any after school activities the child is involved in that are, well, freeing and fun and good for blowing off steam...like maybe dancing or cheerleading or girl scouts or an awesome drawing club...well, then there's hell to pay. So go ahead and multiply the above tale of woe times the square root of 152,000 to the nth power where "n" equals " a whole fucking lot, and there you have it (an equation which, by the way, will probably be covered in tomorrow's math homework, so yay).
Well, maybe this nonsense has got to stop.
Teachers, I do not blame you. I truly, TRULY don't. No sarcasm. I know you're mired in a dizzying web of requirements and responsibilities, most of which bear no connection to anything resembling the teaching profession you believed you were signing up for as you worked your asses off for the pieces of paper that eventually allowed you to apply for your jobs. Requirements and responsibilities that take up so much of your time you're probably lucky if you're making minimum wage per diem, and how sick is that. Nobody can fault teachers for any of this...most school boards do not give tenure to rabblerousers.
I'm thinking more along the lines of, what if all of us who are responsible for the care and well-being of these kids took a stand to stop the madness. It would have to be all of us, or at least most. I'm going to need a lot of cooperation here. My voice in the wilderness is just a crazy nut. All our voices are...well a whole bunch of crazy nuts, which is scarier and therefore potentially more effective. Take Congress, for example (I know, am I a card or what...just wanted to make you laugh.)
Before I go, don't get me wrong, I know my daughter needs to learn to be responsible, and to be willing to tackle tasks that might not be the most immediately gratifying but worth it in the end, and to learn follow-through and feel the sense of accomplishment that goes along with it, and blah blah blah. But something's wrong if it's like pulling teeth...out of an alligator...who has lockjaw. Right?
Well, talk amongst yourselves and get back to me. Maybe we can start a movement.
For now, I have to go get my girl off the bus. And I'm really not in the mood for torture, so today might be all about the tea party.
Not THAT tea party, jeeze!
You guys are too funny.
2 comments:
I'm a card-carrying public school teacher (high school) and not only do I agree with you, but I think the concept of homework needs to be reevaluated and better thought out at all levels, k-12. Maybe it's because I work with a high school population in the inner-city that rarely does homework, but I think it is more than that. I remember the misery of homework. I remember what too much "education" can do towards the destruction of one's love of learning.
Education should be crisp and concise within the allotted hours or the school day. Time away from that should be used for embracing the other facets of life that make us the wonderful individuals who we are. The only homework that I can find that would be constructive or meaningful is that which connects to our individual lives. Instead it alienates students, casting a negative pall over education and leading students away from real learning.
I fight this every day. I work to convince my students, prove to them, that I am on their side. That learning is a wonderfully empowering expansion of the mind. I fight 8 to 10 years of programming that communicates it is an alienating activity. I fight the disempowering education process that crippled me when I was a student.
This is one of the myriad reasons our education system is such a mess. Why most Americans stop "learning" when their 16-year brainwashing is complete and they join the world to become unquestioning automatons. We don't value learning anymore, we value dogmatic procedure and results. We should be focused on process and growth.
I should watch what I say, or they'll be calling me a radical... ;-p
A "negative pall"? Is that from the Department of Redundancy Department?
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