Homework

Ah, Facebook. I posted a status update this morning regarding a parent/teacher meeting last night at school. The meeting was a kick-off to the annual 4th-Grade Long-Term Project (and also a way to save paper…no more extraneous printing, West Des Moines schools!). However, it was clear from the e-mailed invitation that this meeting was about more than simply introducing parents to a new chapter in learning. This meeting was about reminding parents to keep their best intentions to themselves, as in letting the student do work on their own.

And from the looks of the comments posted to my status update, it looks like overzealous parental involvement is a widespread problem.

Parenting? It’s no longer about raising kids. It’s a competitive sport.

(Oh, great, we all know how much of an athlete I am. My kids are up a creek without a paddle.)

What does a grown-up gain from submitting an elaborate project in their child’s name? You should have seen some of the example projects. Honestly, most of them looked like a parent was heavily involved to me, even the projects offered as examples of satisfactory student work. I know what I was capable of in 4th grade, and even though I was a teacher’s pet I doubt I could have executed with such sophistication. Kids are more sophisticated and have more sophisticated tools at their disposal, but I still felt uncomfortable visualizing the parental involvement evident in most of the presentations.

I’ve seen it and felt it, this competitive parenting business, from the time I was pregnant with Elizabeth. Some misguided people started judging from the moment of conception. The big issue then was whether or not I would return to work after Elizabeth was born. One woman didn’t like it when I answered that I planned to keep working and asked me “Was this a planned pregnancy?”. Another woman told me that I was shortchanging Elizabeth by demonstrating that “the only thing women can do is be mothers.”

After E arrived, what activities would I choose for her? Gymboree? Mommy and Me? Pilates for Pups? Did I read all of the classics to her in the womb, or was I a lazy bastard to have only read “Green Eggs and  Ham”? What about music? Did I strap headphones over my uterus and subject her to Mozart or Vanilla Ice? My choices certainly impacted her babyhood. God only knows what I had done! How would she be accepted to the best preschools?!?!?!?!?!?

It got worse as E got older. Soccer starts in preschool now. Basketball soon after. We skipped dance and theater, only because there are a mere 24 hours in a day. And we kept having babies. Two more, as a matter of fact. That also put me at odds with a few naysayers. Everyone always had an opinion, but after awhile I realized that their opinions were more of a reinforcement for their own parenting skills than a critique of mine. When we’re afraid we’re not doing the right thing, not doing enough of something, not measuring up, what do we do? ATTACK!

The homework issue reared its ugly head in first grade. The assignment was a timeline: each student would map out their lives so far on a long roll of manilla paper and display it in the pod during Parent/Teacher Conferences in the spring.

I did help E on this one. We looked through photos together and I printed the ones she chose. She cut them out and pasted them on her manilla paper and wrote about each event. Her timeline definitely looked like it was done by a kid. Many of the others on display that spring looked rather professional. With matted labels and hardcore scrapbooking doodads.

Now, I’m all for liberal use of hardcore scrapbooking doodads, but there is a time and a place. Like in your own scrapbooks.

I was waiting for E’s conference, and I overheard a couple of parents commenting on the timelines.

“Wow, good luck with that when your kid’s in high school.”

As in, you can only do your kid’s work for so long.

I know of a few helicopter parents from back in my day who would intervene on a daily basis with the good intention of making sure their child made it to the college of her choice. I was a senior in high school, and one of my classmates failed a trigonometry test. She was on track for straight A’s, which to her and her parents was essential to be accepted private school. The student threw a tear-filled tirade, and her parents were at school that afternoon, pleading with the teacher to change her grade since she was under so much pressure. And her “F” magically transformed into an “A”. Just like that.

She wound up with straight A’s and attended the college of her choice. I’m not sure where she is now, but I really hope she’s not involved in saving people’s lives or anything like that. What if she was having a really bad day? I have a feeling her parents would still intervene. But helicopter parents can only do so much. I’m unaware of any having the capability to bring people back from the dead.

I suppose my kids are a reflection of me, to an extent. But I’m more concerned about them not being creeps than I am about them having a professionally produced science project. I figure the opinion of anyone who judges me for what they perceive as a lack of love or attention or skill is hopelessly misguided anyway. My unsolicited opinion? I think we as parents are responsible for raising children who can stand on their own two feet. Guide them through life’s rough waters, but never man the wheel. I’ve seen many parents who seem to me to be living their lives through their children. If anyone would want to relive her childhood vicariously, that would be me! But protecting a child from failure, ridicule, and even judgment only makes a child less confident and less able to handle the bigger challenges that life will inevitably throw at them. If my parents would have intervened during my countless adolescent trials, they would have been hopelessly busy and I would have grown into a hopelessly helpless adult.

One of the teachers said it best last night: step aside and give your student ownership of their project. He knows the students who have ownership of their projects. The kids who did the work themselves are thrilled to take their projects home.

He still has many beautifully executed projects in storage at school.

And that judgment? I’ve been fortified by years of ridicule and lack of parental intervention. Bring it on!