Navigating homework

Perfect grades aren’t in everyone’s wheelhouse. (Image by Michael Drummond from Pixabay)

Can you imagine having to do homework now? Today?

Adults have the luxury of choices. We’ve put in our time in school and made it to the other side. We can take classes or pursue higher education, which has plenty of work that goes along with it. But the idea of having to do worksheets associated with someone else’s goal, after we’ve already put in a full day — no way. Homework is not on the menu.

I was dutiful and conscientious in school, once I figured out how to be. Homework started in fourth grade, which resulted in a backpack full of crumpled, blank math worksheets by June. I don’t remember a lot of homework in fifth or sixth grade, but I hit my stride in seventh and did whatever was asked of me from there on out.

I’m not sure I could do that now. I still work hard, but my willingness to jump when someone says, “Jump!” has disappeared. Instead of asking, “How high?” I’d be like, “What for?” There better be a good reason.

Some people get to that point much sooner, perhaps because they have less freedom than I did. More work, more supervision, more pressure to excel. I frequently talk to parents who are afraid that their children will fail to launch because they balk at doing all the work that’s required. In virtually every case, however, it is possible to see the child’s actions as a perfectly reasonable response to their circumstances: Seven hours of school, plus commute, plus one to three hours of homework — to do every last problem on every last worksheet, every day, requires an intense amount of fortitude no matter how old you are or what learning disabilities you have.

The fact is, much of what students are being asked to do just isn’t that important in the scheme of things. Often, the reason the work isn’t getting done is because they’ve figured this out. Flogging them for every missed homework assignment is counterproductive.

Furthermore, we’re putting young students on track for burnout when homework begins as early as kindergarten and is so complex or demanding that it requires a parent to be present throughout the process. I once read a book on Harriet Tubman with a second-grader (because he won’t read on his own yet, but is required to read a certain number of minutes for homework). The child noted that the enslaved people of Tubman’s youth were “lucky” because they didn’t “have to” read and write. Yikes!

What if, instead of trying to use fear or shame or bribery to motivate kids to action, we accept that they are shutting down because they’ve hit the limit? Instead of being afraid that their reluctance or outright refusal to do worksheets and projects and assigned reading means that they won’t make it in the world, we can recognize that a person’s ability to steer one’s own ship is more important to adult success than all of the worksheets in the world.

Too many kids never have the opportunity to even touch their ship’s wheel — they’ve always been passengers, passively going along for the voyage or throwing temper tantrums when they don’t like where they’re headed. Unless we let them practice navigation early on, when is still easy to correct course, they will struggle to avoid the rocks when it’s time to come into harbor.

Obedience isn’t a predictor of success in life. The homework is beside the point and shouldn’t determine whether a pleasant evening is in store, let alone a bright future. We thrive when we have something to do that matters to us, and we need choices, patience, and space to do our best work. If we build on strengths instead of fearing failure, we have a much happier family life and see better results in the long run.

To get there, adults may have to do the scary thing and let go of the wheel — or at least share it. The currents and winds will present their challenges, but none are insurmountable.

To drop the metaphor and use plain language: Your daily life will be more enjoyable if you stop taking responsibility for your children’s homework and buying into the idea that someone who slacks on homework will end up living under a bridge. You’re there to help and offer guidance if it’s needed, but the sense of ownership must be theirs, not yours. Paradoxically, handing control back to your child (or accepting that they’ve already asserted control in the ways they can) may help them to be more successful in the long run if you can stomach some failure in the short term.