Whose Homework Is It, Anyway?

Hey there,

Who is responsible for the homework anyway?

My theory is that I did all my homework, and now it is my kid’s turn. I will help if they ask, of course, but the bulk of the effort is their own.

I don’t recall my parents ever asking if my homework was done, and I know they never had to sign anything other than an absence excuse. I believe it was assumed my homework was completed until proven otherwise, and this was before any kind of web grader so “otherwise” took a lot longer to prove. 

I have memories of my mom and I huddled at the kitchen table as she assisted with the math homework I struggled with, and I’m sure she probably picked up some poster board if I needed it (I can’t recall ever needing it, honestly), but other than being available if we asked for help, or for a ride to the library, my parents were busy with their own lives. They had their own “homework” that included running a household with seven children.

And somehow I survived and learned what I needed to learn and finished school and got a job. 

I bring this up now because my first-grader came home recently with a map project as homework. His class had been studying maps and the assignment was to make a map of the child’s neighborhood. They had a couple of weeks to complete the map, and the poster board was provided for them along with instructions for the parent to read. The instructions encouraged creativity and the use of 3-D items for parts of the map; they also stated that this project should be student-led.

Student led, thank goodness! I don’t have a crafty bone in my body, and I had been getting nervous with this “be creative” stuff.

Arthur (the first grader) and I went over the instructions together to make sure he understood what was expected, and he told me about his very complicated plans involving aluminum foil and wood chips from the back yard. Arthur collected these items and set about working on his map that very afternoon. He eventually realized his idea was never going to work and promptly set the map aside and forgot about it.

Fast-forward two weeks. Arthur comes home telling me his map is due the next day. He got out the long-forgotten poster board and spread it out on the dining room table. After abandoning his aluminum foil and wood chip idea he collected colored pencils and markers and sat down and drew a map of our street that included a legend, the school, our house and the ravine behind our house. He didn’t ask me for any help and seemed content while he worked, so I was happy. The finished product was a rough drawing, to be kind (it’s first grade, right?) but he colored some stuff in and had all the parts the teacher had requested and seemed pleased with the outcome.

Done.

The maps were presented to the class the next day and displayed in the lobby. I happened to be at the school that day for my library volunteer gig and decided to check out the maps on the way up.

Oh dear…………….

There is just no way to sugar coat the situation. Arthur’s map looked terrible compared to every other map on display. I am not kidding; it was the worst map there. The others had marshmallows neatly glued to the page for houses and licorice for the streets (I wouldn’t even know how to get that stuff to stick on the page.) The printing for the legend was neat and straight and the coloring looked as if it had taken the entire two weeks to complete. All the other maps were so… creative. Ugh!

Student led? Really? Not my student! 

When Arthur got home, I asked him how the presentation of the map went.

“Good," he told me enthusiastically.

Then he began to tell me how cool all the other maps were and how the kids had used really cool stuff for their projects. He seemed genuinely happy for all those children and their very cool maps. I asked him if he felt good about his map and if he felt like he learned all the parts of a map that he was supposed to learn.

“Yup,” he grinned happily and ran off to get a snack from the kitchen.

His self-esteem seems intact; that is all that matters.

Thanks for checking in.

 – Irene