This past Friday, Lily got her first homework assignment.
Or rather, I got MY first homework assignment. Every single task on her homework included instructions for me and what I should teach her. One portion of the homework involved me having to tell her the story of how she got her name and then writing it down so she could share it with the class.
What if I didn’t have a good reason for her name? I have a nice enough story for Lily’s real name, but I have no good stories for Rose or Violet. We saw their names in a baby book, liked them a lot and then named them. The first two kids got their flower middle names sort of by accident, but we did it on purpose with the last kid. There’s not much to say.
I thought homework was supposed to be for the kids to take home to learn more. I thought parents were supposed to help when they needed to. This is how it always worked at my house growing up. My sister and I usually did our homework by ourselves and then our parents would step in when we needed help or to check our homework when we finished it to make sure we’d done it correctly. This is how homework makes sense to me.
Now, I want to be involved in my child’s education. I absolutely do. But I don’t understand this homework that’s specifically for me to do. My child should be doing the homework and my involvement, while perhaps important, should be optional. I ok with quizzing spelling words and tutoring on fractions, but I’m not the one in school. I shouldn’t be writing mini essays.
Did school change? Is this how school is now?
I mean, homework in kindergarten sounded ridiculous to begin with. I wondered how kids who couldn’t read would do homework.
I guess now I know. It’s not the kids’ homework. It’s the parents’.