I love this article, which appeared in the Star Tribune on Thanksgiving Day 2010.
What do you think?
Vianne Hubbell: Hit the books? I’d rather hide them
There's no evidence that piling on the homework leads to better learning.
There are 24 hours in each day. Between school and sleep, I have five hours to spend with my school-aged kids.
One would think that those are five hours in which we could decide to play a game, go to a sporting event, read books, cook dinner together, do our family chores, go to a movie, attend religious education classes, play a pick-up game with friends or even (gasp!) watch television. One might think five hours is a long time. One would be wrong.
The decision about what to do with, and how to organize, those five hours has been made for us.
Our night begins with this: "OK, guys, get out your backpacks."
As every parent knows, what's in those backpacks then moves in to control the evening. Whether there are book reports, spelling lists, math problems, a science test or instructions on how to tea-stain paper, the moment the backpacks open, the night does not belong to me.
So often, what comes home seems either mind-numbingly excessive (25 long division problems, anyone?) or beyond the scope of what is reasonable (three-page book reports, typed please, and make a diorama to go with it). My experience as a mother of four and as a teacher with 18 years' experience has led me to the realization that practicing something, or being asked to produce something for which one lacks the skill, does not breed perfection, or even learning. It breeds frustration.
What comes of all this frustration? Typed paragraphs hang proudly in the halls of our neighborhood school. Beautiful dioramas ring the rooms. Take this from the eye of someone who has been evaluating student work for 18 years: A vast majority of them do not appear to be the independent work of children.
The perception that more homework will result in higher test scores is common. I know first-hand that teachers face constant pressure to be "rigorous," and that many parents and educators wrongly equate more homework with rigor.
One would think that those are five hours in which we could decide to play a game, go to a sporting event, read books, cook dinner together, do our family chores, go to a movie, attend religious education classes, play a pick-up game with friends or even (gasp!) watch television. One might think five hours is a long time. One would be wrong.
The decision about what to do with, and how to organize, those five hours has been made for us.
Our night begins with this: "OK, guys, get out your backpacks."
As every parent knows, what's in those backpacks then moves in to control the evening. Whether there are book reports, spelling lists, math problems, a science test or instructions on how to tea-stain paper, the moment the backpacks open, the night does not belong to me.
So often, what comes home seems either mind-numbingly excessive (25 long division problems, anyone?) or beyond the scope of what is reasonable (three-page book reports, typed please, and make a diorama to go with it). My experience as a mother of four and as a teacher with 18 years' experience has led me to the realization that practicing something, or being asked to produce something for which one lacks the skill, does not breed perfection, or even learning. It breeds frustration.
What comes of all this frustration? Typed paragraphs hang proudly in the halls of our neighborhood school. Beautiful dioramas ring the rooms. Take this from the eye of someone who has been evaluating student work for 18 years: A vast majority of them do not appear to be the independent work of children.
The perception that more homework will result in higher test scores is common. I know first-hand that teachers face constant pressure to be "rigorous," and that many parents and educators wrongly equate more homework with rigor.
The district my children attend proudly boasts about its graduation rate and high test scores. Rather than attributing those achievements to the fact that the median income in our district is among the highest in the state, the reasons cited include the rigorous curriculum and the demanding homework. Unfortunately, of the two, only the former is supported by research. In fact, there is no research that supports homework as a tool for increasing academic achievement in the primary grades. Its effectiveness is questionable even in high school. If anything, the research tells us that too much homework can actually decrease academic achievement.
So, if the homework is being managed ("OK, guys, time to get out your backpacks") and completed (even in part) by parents, not children, and if there is no research to support its effectiveness, doesn't it raise the question of what really is the point? And, just as important, what is the price we're paying?
Forget about the hours lost to math problems, vocabulary drills or the search for a glue gun to complete the big project. Is it possible that our children, rather than receiving benefit, are actually footing the bill? The increased incidence of anxiety, depression and obesity in our nation's children runs parallel to the push for more homework. Correlation doesn't prove causation, but it would be foolish to ignore a possible connection.
I can't help thinking that as those precious five hours between school and bedtime have shifted away from family time toward time for homework completion, our children are losing out not just on their childhoods, but on important childhood lessons that would otherwise help them become the thoughtful and engaged friends, partners, parents and citizens that we want them to become. Who's got time to learn to play nice with others when there's no time to play?
What lessons is homework teaching? That work is important? That children should have responsibilities? All I need is a full dishwasher, an unmade bed and a lawn that needs mowing to teach those. In fact, homework is just getting in the way.
I want my five hours back.
ViAnne Hubbell teaches at Hopkins North Junior High.
So, if the homework is being managed ("OK, guys, time to get out your backpacks") and completed (even in part) by parents, not children, and if there is no research to support its effectiveness, doesn't it raise the question of what really is the point? And, just as important, what is the price we're paying?
Forget about the hours lost to math problems, vocabulary drills or the search for a glue gun to complete the big project. Is it possible that our children, rather than receiving benefit, are actually footing the bill? The increased incidence of anxiety, depression and obesity in our nation's children runs parallel to the push for more homework. Correlation doesn't prove causation, but it would be foolish to ignore a possible connection.
I can't help thinking that as those precious five hours between school and bedtime have shifted away from family time toward time for homework completion, our children are losing out not just on their childhoods, but on important childhood lessons that would otherwise help them become the thoughtful and engaged friends, partners, parents and citizens that we want them to become. Who's got time to learn to play nice with others when there's no time to play?
What lessons is homework teaching? That work is important? That children should have responsibilities? All I need is a full dishwasher, an unmade bed and a lawn that needs mowing to teach those. In fact, homework is just getting in the way.
I want my five hours back.
ViAnne Hubbell teaches at Hopkins North Junior High.
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