I'm no great lover of homework.
As a teacher, I hate everything to do with homework---assigning it, collecting it, correcting it, enforcing its completion--you name it. Not until recently have I figured out how to make homework work effectively in my classroom.
But as a parent--homework is the bane of my existence. I'm not even exaggerating here. Santino despises homework.
During his worst year of homework, which was second grade, he would receive enormous homework packets on Friday to be completed by the following Friday. We received a calendar so students would pace themselves.
At least the homework load was predictable. One page was dedicated entirely to writing sentences for spelling words--twenty of them. Each sentence had to start with a different word. Try thinking of twenty sentences that don't all start with the word "the"--it's maddening. Another page was dedicated to synonyms and antonyms for vocabulary words. Another page for syllabication. Pages and pages of math, although Santino did that pretty quickly. It was a routine we grew accustomed to but never liked.
Now, the time spent doing homework that year wasn't just one hour of sit-at-the-table-and-do-it-quietly (nor was it the mere twenty minutes recommended for second graders). It was more like this: spend one hour crying about doing the homework. Ten minutes writing. Thirty minutes sulking. Fifteen minutes writing. Thirty minutes crying. Ten minutes writing. Ten minutes sulking. Twenty minutes writing. Santino spent more time complaining, sulking, and crying about homework than he spent doing the homework itself (which was substantial).
And it wasn't just us! Every second grade parent that year had the same problem. Kids were hysterical about the homework load, parents were distraught and exhausted--who needed that? A few parents challenged the teachers about the homework load, but nothing changed. These were extremely experienced and well-liked teachers. Everyone respected them. They were the Yoda of teachers. And I learned a lot from them as a colleague--how to team-teach, run independent work time, use project-based curriculum strategies--and also how NOT to assign homework.
I guess I wouldn't have had such a problem with the homework assignments if I felt that it was adding to Santino's learning curve, but it just wasn't. Smart kid, conscientious worker--the mountains of homework he had didn't make him a better student, smarter, or learn the standards. Just loads of busy-work, it was just making him hate school, and making us miserable at home until that golden moment when he finished the packet for the week.
Still, we were stuck. To get Santino to do his homework, I would put on episodes of Gilligan's Island. Every time someone said "Gilligan" on the show, Santino would have to do 5 minutes of homework. Now, if you remember watching Gilligan, somebody says his name about every two minutes in the show. So I figured if he watched two or three episodes, he'd get through his mountains of homework. It seemed to work.
He hasn't had homework overload like this in a few years, but tonight he had quite a bit of homework. "How was your day?" "Horrible," he said. I know that whenever Santino has a bad day at school, it means he has a lot of homework.
It happened that this day, his dad brought him a dvd from Netflix--House, Season 1. "Mom, I have an idea!" First time he smiled that day. "Let's watch House, and every time they make a diagnosis, we'll pause the dvd and I'll do five minutes of homework." Now, for those of you who have never seen the show "House," it's kind of like a crime show--finding the murderer--only the setting is a hospital and the detective is a medical diagnostician who is trying to figure out why his patient keeps exploding in pustules and spewing bloody phlegm. The diagnostic teams throw out guesses for the source of the illness about as often as Skipper hollers "Gilligan!"
Brilliant idea. "House" certainly isn't the lighthearted comedy of Gilligan's Island, but I'll take it. Santino finished his homework before Dr. House made the final diagnosis at the eleventh hour. No tears, no sulking, no pain. Which is more than can be said for Dr. House's patients, or Dr. House, for that matter.
So I would like to thank Gilligan and Greg House for helping Santino with his homework. I am still no great lover of homework, but with the help of these guys, we'll make it through the next six years of school. And maybe even learn how to make a radio out of coconut shells.
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