First week of school kaleidoscope (2 days down, 2 days to go)

Forms filled out. Forms forms forms. More forms.

NO PEANUT BUTTER! NO PEANUT ANYTHING! NO NO NO A THOUSAND TIMES NO!

Three trips to Staples (and one last week, too).

Label maker! Resulting, probably temporary, sense of calm and organization.

Campaign to pry information from children about what happened at school relaunched. Children proving wilier than ever. Learned little.

School drop off in a four-dimensional craze of children. Fourth grader disappears immediately. First grader clings to my hand. Mayor Taveras visiting. Trying to talk education with him and say hi to first grade teacher at the same time. Hugs and kisses and handshakes with parent and teacher and kid friends. So good to see everyone.

Homework. Realization that middle kid has apparently forgotten how to form legible letters over the summer. Realization that oldest kid has somehow figured out that writing clearly is a useful skill. Realization that there is hope.

No bus passes. No idea if/when they may be bestowed. Resulting drama brewing?

PAC meetings. Meetings meetings meetings. PTO meetings next week. All the meetings.

Kids tired, voluntarily going to bed early. I am right there with them.

Photographic evidence of second day of school:

Henry and Leo, shady characters.

Afterschool with the fabulous Adelle.

First day of school!

Providence Public Schools starts the 2012-2013 school year today. Despite the rainy beginning, I hope that all went well, that everyone got where they needed to go, and that a great day was had by all.

I had to go to the office today, with the extra fun of being caught up in a major commuter rail delay, so my husband got the guys off to school. No first day of school photos, which at this point has become a tradition as I - the usual family documenter - have had work that's taken me away for the last couple of first days of school. So we'll do second day of school photos which has become our weirdo tradition, and I'm working from home tomorrow in order to be a part of their school year start. 

In the meantime, here's a rundown of back to school resources and thoughts:

Providence Public Schools 2012-2013 calendar

Providence Public Schools 2012-2013 school bell schedules (start and stop times for all schools)

Getting ready to go back to school: homework

Getting ready to go back to school: media consumption

For more, of course, visit the Providence Public Schools website.

And if any of you have back to school stories you'd like to share, please do!

Back to School: media and unplugging

Or commit self-righteous graffiti.

As summer winds down (one week until the first day of school!), we have been thinking about how to get ready for the school year, with thoughts on homework earlier this month and today, with our family's approach to free time. I had originally planned this to be a post about tv/computers/video games/other devices. However, conversations with the kids during vacation made me realize that these screen-enabled devices are the bull in the china shop of free time.

I'll start with the bull, which represents the media devices that we use for entertainment. In our house, we have three tvs (one connected to the internet), three laptops, one desktop computer, two iPads, three iPhone Touches, two iPhones, a Wii, and a PS3. Good Lord, I have never collected everything up in a list like that. Crazy. I am tempted to put qualifications on the devices (what's used for work and what's a junker and so on) but it's probably better to leave the list as is, because it represents the electronic behemoth appropriately.

Despite the proliferation of devices, the kids don't have free rein to use them. We have guidelines in place: no tv before 6pm, no tv after dinner (which is usually around 7) without permission (generally, we skip it). No tv in the morning except for weekends, at which time, to tv/devices before 8am (otherwise, at least one kid would set his alarm to get extra video game time). We haven't allowed video or computer games during the week at all.  That's been the template, and it has worked more or less effectively. Thus far, there have rarely if ever been clashes between tv/other devices and school responsibilities. When a kid hasn't been able to get to his homework, it comes first, before any media consumption happens.

This school year, we're changing it up a bit by adding one screen-free night a week for everyone, including Kevin and me and our often ubiquitous iPhones. We're doing this for reasons that are fairly obvious. Even though the kids don't watch a ton of tv/use other devices all the time, the devices loom large and are totally consuming. They get fixated. There is individual variation from kid to kid, but in general, fixated is not too strong a description. They count down until 6pm and eschew other options. And really, it's often easier for us. During the work week, I get home at 6 and make dinner most nights. To get that done, it's convenient to have the guys squared away watching something or other, with the promise of decent family time at dinner.

Nevertheless, breaking the pattern feels like the right thing to do. If it's tv time, the guys often don't want to be in the kitchen and therefore don't participate in making dinner. They don't want to run over to the community garden with me. They don't go (or stay) outside past 6pm for fear of missing their precious screen time. There is a little bit of an addiction thing going on, and it seems wise to shake things up.

So we're going to try a media free night per week and see how it goes. We discussed this at breakfast during the final day of vacation and the kids were mostly okay with it, with two conditions:

1. The media-freedom applies to adults too.

2. They get access to video games for one additional night during the week.

We readily agreed to the first condition and reluctantly to the second. We decided to give it a try in the spirit of compromise.

So that's the bull. The china shop is actually in fairly good shape otherwise. They play outside a lot, play board games with each other, go off into their separate corners to do their thing: to read, do Legos, draw, daydream. I am hoping that our media free night will allow us all to read together. We're planning to use it as homework check in night; while we already quickly check their work nightly, this will be the night that we help them think through how to deal with anything they're struggling with, plan for long term assignments, etc.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I do yearn sometimes to get rid of all of the devices and have a media-free house. However, unless we make other radical changes to our lives in terms of work and where we live, that's not going to happen and despite my Little House on the Prairie fantasies, I don't think that it should happen. We live in a media-intensive world and our job as parents is to help our kids negotiate that world. I think that the off switch the best feature of any of these devices, and we try hard to teach the kids to use it and to value what happens as a result.  We may indulge the media-free lifestyle next year by going camping. I'd like that. I'd like to know what happens to our brains if we unplug for a week. But until then, unplugging for an evening a week seems more reasonable.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Getting ready for back to school: homework

In part one of several on getting back into the school game, I’m thinking about how we can facilitate homework-doing so that our kids are productive and efficient, and that they have quiet when they need it, support when they need it, and access to the supplies they need. In other words, what can we do to make sure that homework is neither: 1.) a festival of anxiety or 2.) ignored? I want to give homework its due, but not much more beyond that. Our situation and plan, such as it is, follow.

Why does every single pencil in our house look like after the first week of school?
Where do the whole pencils go?
Is there a fourth dimension overflowing with little bits of eraser?
So many questions

We have a seventh grader who will have an hour or so of homework a day, a fourth grader with a half hour or so, and a first grader who will be entering the homework fray for the very first time. Before I proceed, I need to note that said first grader is fired up about this. He has been watching his older brothers do homework for years and sincerely craves his own. Perhaps his tune will change, but for now, I am all for such enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm is one of the qualities I hope to capture and perhaps bolster when I think about how we’re going to create good conditions in which the guys will do their homework during this coming school year. They are generally compliant about getting their homework done, if often minimalist. I don’t necessarily insist that they fall in love with their homework assignments; the majority of the work they bring home is, if not totally unlovable, not totally thrilling either. While I don’t expect mini-masterpiece every night, I want them to do more than a half-assed job so that when a whole ass is required, they’re up to the challenge. It’s often work they can legitimately get through expeditiously, but I don't want this to convey the impression that homework is necessarily something that is to be got through at the speed of light. This doesn’t serve them well when they’re confronted with an assignment that is genuinely challenging.

For this year, I am thinking of the whole homework thing as a contract. We expect a certain level of performance for which we will provide a certain level of support.

Expectations:

• Homework gets done first, or near first. It’s right there at the top of the afterschool priority list. We try hard to keep this expectation standard, which can be tricky as afterschool conditions vary (and I am not totally sure what they will be during this upcoming school year, which is a subject for another post). Still, whether they are at the JCC afterschool program, or home with a babysitter, or home by themselves, or home with me, or wherever, homework comes first. 
• Homework is done thoroughly, with at least some attention to detail. Legibility can be an issue, so we try to remind them that if they’re going to do their homework, they need to make sure that someone else can actually read it. 
• Homework goes back into the homework folder/binder and then back into the backpack when it’s done. This is a critical bit of business. Among my least favorite evenings or mornings are those that that include a mad search for homework that is eventually located between pages of the newspaper that’s in the recycling, or under a bed, or wherever. Not good times. Homework gets put away. 
• It’s great to get help, but we don’t want to help so much that we’re actually doing the work for them, or forcing them through it for the sake of completion. Part of the value of homework is that it provides teachers, parents, and kids a relatively low-stakes way to practice and check for understanding. If a kid isn't getting something, we know that thing needs to be taught and learned again or differently. I have had conflicts with my kids when they haven’t been able to answer a homework question and want a lot of input from us. I urge them to write down for their teacher what they don’t understand (this works best when you know the teacher will respond to such a thing, which generally across the board, our kids’ teachers have done) rather than stabbing at the answer. The kids generally HATE having to do this. Self-reliance is the thing, baby. 

Support:

• Because they are sometimes doing their homework outside of the realm of a helpful older person, this means that we need to find time to check in with them about whether they have any questions, and we generally try to at least glance at it for completeness. On those evenings when I get home from work at 6 and Kevin later than that, and some kid has a baseball game, and some parent has a meeting, and people need feeding and the dog needs walking and the laundry needs folding and the dishes need doing, this is a tricky proposition. But it feels really important to check in, even for 2 minutes, so we do. If we say doing this thing is important, then we need to demonstrate that, and this is when the aforementioned checking for understanding happens.
• This year, we are trying to make sure that they have access to the best place(s) for them to do their homework. To some extent, this depends on the needs of each kid, which are sufficiently different that I am forced to acknowledge that my fantasy that they all will gather around the dining room table and work companionably together is destined to remain a fantasy. The first grader needs to be with someone, mostly because he tends to learn interactively. That someone may well not be us. It’s most likely going to be an older brother or afterschool program counselor or babysitter. Noise makes our fourth grader nutty when he is trying to think, so he needs a quieter place. He has a harder time doing his homework in the afterschool program; he prefers to be home so he can go up to his room for some peace and quiet. And our seventh grader often needs access to a computer for research, downloading assignments, or typing up work, which he does not have (nor will have) in his room, so he often does his homework in the living room, where the family laptop dwells. 
• We need to make sure they have access to the items required for homework in the places that they do their homework, which is a bit of a conundrum since, as stated above, they don’t necessarily do their homework in a consistent place. After some trial and error from past years, we’re going to make sure that they have the basics in their backpacks and then each will have a tote bag or caddy or something or other with a more extensive array of stuff at home. What that stuff is depends on the kid; the first grader will needs crayons and the seventh grader needs a flash drive. My goal here is to avoid as many instances of a kid not being able to find a ruler/scissors/tape/markers/paper/whatever as possible. I want them to be reasonably self-sufficient. As anyone who knows me will attest, my dreams of organization often exceed my grasp, but I am really determined for everyone’s sanity and productivity to make this a reality. 
• Because learning is a messy process, sometimes homework completion is too. We’re committed to being cool with that. As stated above, we don’t do their homework for them or really with them in heavy-handed way. We do try to help them figure out why they’re struggling with something and help them articulate for themselves and their teacher what the challenge might be. And for all of them, at one point or another, we've used homework as a way to talk with teachers about what’s happening with that kid in school. It is somewhat useful as a window into their learning through the curriculum. 

There’s more to say about what we’re doing to create good conditions for learning at home, a process in which homework plays a starring role in terms of tv watching/computer using/screen time. Suffice it to say that we limit it and no one does tv, et al until his homework is done. That said, our approach for this year is still a work in progress, so I’ll be back with more on that.

And finally, there’s the whole question of the value of homework per se. Though our kids attend schools at which homework is the norm, not everyone thinks it’s a great thing. Go read Alfie Kohn if this idea intrigues you. I have mixed feelings that merit their own exploration at some point soon.

Moonlighting - thoughts on homework

This is a version of my August East Side Monthly education column, which the editors titled "Moonlighting" (way better title than I came up with originally!). It's not online yet but is out and about in the neighborhood.

Moonlighting

There is so very much to love about summer: the beach, the sun and perhaps at the top of list for many parents, students, and teachers, the long, homework-free evenings. As I write this, school has only just let out for the year, and I am thoroughly enjoying not having to inquire about the status of homework. I expect that every one of this summer’s 65 homework-free nights to be just as delightful as these first few.

The uses and limits of homework are on my mind now because our kids are stepping into phases of their educational careers that will demand more of them. Our youngest son starts kindergarten, his third-grade brother faces the NECAP tests for the first time, and their oldest brother enters middle school.

Truth be told, in terms of the sheer volume of homework, I don’t have much about which to gripe. Last year, our elementary school kids had ten to 20 minutes a night, with a bit more demanded of our fifth grader from time to time. The work--worksheets, most of the time--provided a glimpse into what the kids were doing in class.

Rarely, however, was the homework joyful, thought provoking, or work that really needed to be done at home. That dullness tended to confirm my suspicions about homework’s futility. Research and advocacy supporting the case against homework from outspoken critics such as author Alfie Kohn (The Homework Myth: Why Our Kids Get Too Much of a Bad Thing) and filmmaker Vicki Abeles (“Race to Nowhere: The Dark Side of America’s Achievement Culture”) intensified my own anxiety about homework.

As much as I am glad to be free of the homework grind for the summer, I wouldn’t want to do away with it entirely come fall. As kids do homework, parents and other adults (I’m thinking of afterschool program staff, who carry much of the homework-helping load) can observe their choices, coach them to improve, and give them a high five when they ace a question. Homework provides opportunities to see kids think and work through challenges. Of course, time spent on homework would be more valuable if the homework itself were more engaging and meaningful.

When my oldest son was in Ms. Abrames’ kindergarten class at Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Elementary School, he had one or two homework assignments per week, generally fun, manageable projects. He counted the number of light bulbs in our house and charted his findings or, with our help, created a family tree. These homework assignments were fun for a five-year old and easy for most families to support.

Just as we felt like we were getting the hang of what was expected, one mid-November assignment felt radically different. Ms. Abrames asked the children to keep a moon journal for a week. The task was simple: go out every night, look at the moon, and draw pictures of what you see. Parents could record kids’ verbal descriptions. After dinner every night, we put on coats and hats and went in search of the moon. Leaving the house with a little kid at that time of night was truly exciting (parents with young children in the Don’t Get Out Much Fellowship, you hear me, right?). During the school day, the kids shared their data and observations in a collaborative study of the moon and the night sky.

The moon journal homework held special significance for me because I had the same assignment in graduate school. As I worked toward a Masters of Education, I took in a course taught by Eleanor Duckworth, the author of The Having of Wonderful Ideas: And Other Essays on Teaching and Learning. Professor Duckworth asked us to keep moon journals that were fundamentally the same as those that Ms. Abrames assigned to her kindergarteners at King. We used them similarly immediate and concrete ways, pooling our data and observations in class to arrive at collective insights about our understanding of and assumptions about the moon. Professor Duckworth employed the moon journals to help her students internalize the irreplaceable value of direct experience and evidence in the act of learning.

Useful and meaningful homework--really any school-related work done outside of class--should share the qualities of both moon journal experiences.  Ideally, homework should not always rigidly insist on the “right answer.” It should foster independent thinking and effort, and the out-of-school setting really should make a difference to its successful completion. Perhaps most of all, just as the moon journals were essential to the classroom experience, homework should be tied to the in-class learning that happens the next time teachers and students convene.

Of course, not every assignment will blow the minds of young people. There’s a role for homework that reinforces and builds on what kids have learned, and not every assignment will thrill and scintillate. But there certainly is room for improvement.

Finally, it’s worth noting that “more, faster, better” is the mantra in many schools. Expectations are high all around and continue to rise. Kids need to be prepared for this, the twenty-first century, as they traverse the achievement gap and prepare themselves for uncertain futures. School structures such as expanded school days and longer, block-scheduled classes allow time both for instruction and the kind of independent work, necessary for learning, which is often assigned as homework. Ideally, kids should have the opportunity to work on essential schoolwork in school while also having the time to create art, perform music, and run around at recess. Their learning would improve and families’ frayed nerves would be soothed. I suggest that we use the extra time and peace of mind to go out and gaze at the moon.

Homework

Elias caught in the act of homework.

I'm putting together the next East Side Monthly column about homework's benefits and limits. My daily perspective is limited to elementary school, so I'd love to hear from readers who are in or who are family members of middle or high school students about your sense of role homework plays (or does not play) in supporting young people to make meaning of what they're learning. And of course, elementary folks too, please weigh in.

My own view: homework has its limited uses. However, what makes a real difference are extended school days featuring longer classes that allow time for students to work independently or in groups with the right kind of support in suitable learning environments.

More to come. What do you think?