Homework – Conforming to School Norms, Opps for Exploration, Unnecessary, Essential?

A Quick Story

“Dad, I’m gonna sit right here and write a story,” said PJ as he slung his five-section, lined-paper, spiral notebook on the kitchen table where dad was sitting.

“PJ, you have to do your math homework,” came mom’s voice from the office. Mom peeked around the door-less opening that joins the kitchen and the office. She and dad exchanged glances, and they both deemed that they were thinking the same thing.

PJ looked to dad as if for confirmation of the homework directive, but a depth in his gaze seemed to hold out hope for a possible contradiction to mom’s decree.

“PJ, you better do your ‘have-to-dos’ before your ‘wanna-dos,'” said dad, more than a bit disappointed that they couldn’t be one and the same thing.

PJ hung his head a bit – speechless. He slunk into the office and exchanged his story notebook for the math worksheet, “Math Link 12.5.” The toss of the notebook on the desk that PJ and his brother share made a rather booming smack, yet the noise seemed strangely muffled, too.

“Do you find it ironic that PJ wants to write a story, but we told him no because of math homework? I mean, he loves math, too, but he simply wants to write a story before we eat dinner.” Dad tried to keep his educationally philosophical outbursts to a minimum at home, but his reaction to the story-desire versus math-requirement leaped from his mouth before he could trap them in his bearded lips.

“I do find it a bit ironic, but his teacher assigned the math homework, and it has to get done. Dinner will be in thirty minutes, and then it will be time for a bath, a story, and bed. I love that he wants to write, but the math homework is waiting. He wanted to play outside after school, and I thought that was important, too.” Mom made perfect sense as she explained her guidance and contribution to PJ becoming a diligent student of the routines of school and home.

Dad agreed, but he remained pensive. He could see that mom was struggling a bit with the moment, as well. He could see her mind working overtime on the issue – seeming to project into what the next eleven years of this would be like.

A Longer Contemplation (not the writing below…the amount of time I have spent thinking about this stuff for the past 10-12 years)

PJ never returned to write that story. He completed his math homework though (a red “12/12” now resides on the top of that paper, which PJ studied for all of two seconds, if that). He’s written other stories since that moment three weeks ago, but I asked him each time, “So, is that the story that you were gonna write before dinner that night you had to do your math?” Every time, PJ responded, “No, that story’s gone. I cannot seem to remember what I was gonna write about then.”

PJ is a first grader. He loves stories and he loves math. He loves science and he loves art. He loves to explore and discover. He loves to be accompanied on his journeys and uncoverings. If I had kept tally of all of the time that he spends asking me math questions – and asking me to ask him math questions – I’d have a tally sheet at least a mile long. Maybe that makes him like most seven-year-olds…at least many seven-year-olds in the U.S. I’m not really sure, but he seems “normal” to me. [Note: YES! I think my boys are the most amazing children in the world! Far beyond “normal!” However, in this contemplation, I merely mean that PJ seems typical to me in his seven-year-old love of self-directed, yet occasionally-guided, learning.]

I have remained puzzled about what mom and dad decided to do in the above quick story. I am surprised, yet not so surprised, about how much I relive that moment in my mind. Did we help PJ? In the short run? In the long run? Both? Neither? What seed did we plant in that moment about the “rules of doing school?” What seeds did we plant in that moment about pursuing one’s current passion for writing and telling stories? Why hasn’t PJ returned to that story to write it down? What would that story have been like if he had written it? What if I had encouraged PJ to write just a concept line for that story? Would he have been able to return and remember?

I don’t mean to overplay this specific issue. In it’s own right, it is not keeping me up at night. However, in a more general sense, this issue of homework/family-time/pursuit-of-self-directed-passions is causing me to “lose a little sleep.” I think about this story as a microcosm of our next eleven to thirteen years as parents. How much quality family time will we use to wrestle and wrangle about homework? How much of a “second shift” will our boys have to work after they complete their first work shift during the typical school day? Will there be enough “white space” and “room to breathe” among all of the activities, extra-curriculars, homework, family time, etc.?

As a an educator and school principal, I have contemplated this homework dilemma for a long time. I try to sympathize and empathize with our students and their families. Certainly having my own children has helped me understand at a different level and to a greater degree.

Last January also helped me understand better. In Atlanta, in January 2011, we missed a week of school because of ice and snow. I will not tell you the actual number of parent emails that I received by midweek asking for the teachers to assign some distance learning and homework. Almost all of the emails indicated that “my kids are driving me crazy…can you assign something for them to do?!”

Is this where are are as a school-based society? Do we really want such school-directed work for home? Are we losing the capacity to rear and educate self-directed children because we strictly structure and directly distribute specific assignments that possess relatively simple, discreet answers?

A Set of What If’s for Making a Homework Transition…Assuming HW Will Survive

If homework must remain (which I question, but not here)…

  1. What if homework were more general in nature? What if PJ’s first grade homework expectations were more like:
    • Write at least one story each week. Length and topic are far less important than you feeling like you can  write for the joy of telling a story. Format is relatively unimportant, too, at this point. Some weeks, though, consider posting a story to a family blog, if you have one.
    • Engage in some numeracy-based thinking each week. You might do some counting of objects around the house and build some different tables and graphs. You might be in charge of measuring stuff that needs measuring around the house. Help your mom and dad cook and be in change of the ingredients…what would happen to the recipe if your family contained twice as many people? [Perhaps at first, parents would need a menu of suggested activities. Hopefully, this menu could be consulted less and less as students and parents simply engaged in the natural math that happens around the house everyday. This same idea may need to exist in the weekly story, too.]
    • Make art.
    • Eat most of your meals, as a family, more slowly – try to hang out for an hour as dinner is prepared, eaten, and cleaned up. Enjoy family conversation.
    • Read.
    • Play.
    • Explore and experiment. [Maybe use all of the above as inspirations for your stories…or don’t and just use your imagination.]
  2. What if homework was to record a brief podcast of the child telling the parent of something really fun and interesting that happened at school that day/week? A question asked? A curiosity aroused? What if these brief podcasts were archived and cross-posted at a class Pod-o-Matic site with tags and categories for sorting and studying during the school day? [While this activity perhaps would have a learning curve for some, I bet by the fifth or sixth time, the kids and parents would have the hang of doing this in 10 minutes or less. Think of the good communication habits it could form. Think of the feedback it could provide about what exactly is interesting to young students about school.]
  3. What if homework in older grades was developmentally progressed from the above? What if the same bullet-points were used, but the level of “content expectation” were simply more advanced for the age of the child?
  4. What if there were no homework, per se? What if students were expected to be in school for 7-8 hours…sleep for 8-9 hours…and pursue the other parts of themselves and be with family for 7-9 hours? Of course, travel time, shower time, etc. would come out of the total. Would this really be so bad for learning? At age 7? At age 12? At age 17?
  5. What if schools developed more of an “adventure game” approach to homework? I am thinking of some of the video games that my sons and I play on the Wii…like “Dawn of Discovery.” What if there were a web site that had some sort of interactive board with general suggestions for explorations and perusals that could be “homework” in a general sense (rather than worksheet #15.8)? Imagine a tic-tac-toe board online, or a Jeopardy-like board, or a board game like screen. Perhaps there are nine, thirty-five, or some other number of spaces/areas. If students were having trouble coming up with an exploration of a self-determined nature, then they could go to this online resource for suggestions. (This would have helped during “Snowcation 2011!”) Or, perhaps students would be expected to complete three or four of the nine spaces/areas a week. Or they could traverse the online game board at a determined pace and rhythm. Such a system might have real promise for more integrated-studies homework – homework that combines different disciplines instead of having traditional, siloed homework in several subjects.
  6. What if more classrooms were flipped? [Doesn’t necessarily address opportunity costs of lost family time or time to explore one’s own passions.]

A Few Pieces About Homework

  1. “The Truth About Homework.” Alfie Kohn. Education Week. September 6, 2006.
  2. “But I Need to Assign Homework! Look at All I Have to Cover!” Alfie Kohn. Huffington Post. March 3, 2011. [Comments, 64 of them, are interesting.]
  3. “Duke Study: Homework Helps Students Succeed in School, As Long as There Isn’t Too Much.” Harris Cooper. Duke Today. March 7, 2006.
  4. “Five Hallmarks of Good Homework.” Cathy Vatterott. Educational Leadership. September 2010.
  5. “Homework.” David Truss. Pair-a-dimes for Your Thoughts. April 26, 2011.

Oh well. I’ll continue contemplating. After all, it’s about learning.

What are your thoughts on homework? What resources, research, and practices would you add?

Tilling some soil and playing with links – some rough draft blogging to think out loud

Third graders at The Kincaid School in Texas are cultivating their learning in a community garden of global connectedness:

At my school the 3rd grade teachers have established a terrific blogging program for our 3rd graders. Not only do our students blog openly but they also visit and comment on other blogs. This year, a comment that a 3rd grader made on the blog of an author of a book his class was reading started a process that ended up with the author having a Skype call with the student’s 3rd grade class. [empasis added]

– Larry Kahn, http://plpnetwork.com/2011/12/21/meet-our-team-larry-kahn/

Bravo to these third grade teachers and their students for growing positive digital footprints among an authentic audience of beyond-school readers and thinkers. Such connectedness and the powerful learning that can come from such harvest are under-surface themes of @jgough’s latest post, “Integrated Studies: Gardening, Obesity, Open Source Learning.” Moreover, @whatedsaid placed the exclamation mark on the themes with her post, “What does it mean to be educated?”

Most students want to grow something meaningful by planting seeds, watering and fertilizing the sprouts, and sharing the harvest of their labors. As the students in Edna’s video proclaim – to be educated means to seize opportunities to make a positive difference in this world. We teachers should make sure that we are facilitating that “playing in the soil” at least as much as we are asking students to read from a recipe book. In my opinion, students should be doing the gardening and recipe creating much more than just following others’ recipes. Students deserve to be creators, not just consumers. In so doing, they just might learn better to feed themselves as lifelong gardeners and inventors…I mean learners – lifelong learners.

Pracademics

 

In a nutshell, the quote below sheds great light on why I believe in “pracademics” – those people who DO project-based learning and share their joys and frustrations, those people who speak about online presence only while developing a significant digital footprint themselves, those people who experience PLCs before commenting positively or negatively on their function and value, those who use the tools of a faculty growth plan to organize their professional learning if they expect others to do so, those who model faculty meetings in the form which they expect from classrooms, etc., etc.

Learning is useless if it isn’t applied. Reading a recipe book is not the same as picking up a utensil and cooking. Albert Einstein once said, “Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking.” Simply studying the wisdom of others isn’t enough, you must put it into practice.

From “The Ultimate Gift,” sblankenship, Connected Principals, Dec. 19, 2011

Learn by doing. Encourage others to learn by doing. Promote learning by doing. Build wisdom by employing your growing knowledge in order to make a positive difference in this world. If you haven’t already, start today. Start now. Go. Do.

Knowing versus doing. Knowledge versus wisdom.

It is no longer enough to know. Learning is about so much more than radio-receiver information gathering. Education must help us learn what we can (and should) do with our growing knowledge. I believe such is called wisdom.

One of the most important things we can do is teach our students how to use social media wisely, and how social media can be used for social good.

– Shelly Wright

“Life in an Inquiry Driven, Technology Embedded, Connected Classroom: English“

When learning is open and connected…thanks Homaro Cantu

I imagine I am a middle schooler – maybe around age 13. I just watched a TED talk because my teacher has guided me to an interest in the plethora of “teachers” on TED. I write a blog post on the TED talk because I write for an authentic audience now, not only for my teacher’s eyes. My blog posts automatically tweet. The author of the TED talk sees the tweet and responds. He sends me this link in his @reply:

http://whatsnext.blogs.cnn.com/2011/11/29/chefs-miracle-berries-turn-sour-foods-sweet/

I become more interested in molecular gastronomy because my learning has been open and connected. I become more interested in sustainability because of my online teacher’s example of edible menus. I learn to help feed the world with an increased interest in health and an added flair for design. I am forging myself into a pattern of lifelong learning. I am thankful my school allows such open and connected learning. It seems scary to do this without such guidance and leadership…my parents don’t really understand this way of learning.

[Many thanks to Homaro Cantu for replying to this 41-year-old, lifelong learner’s pre-post thinking and automatically tweeted blog post on Dec. 16! What a thrill and path of learning! May I help make it so for others.]