On the third day of school I picked up my newly minted SKer from the dismissal line. While I was waiting for him to run into my arms, a mother of one of his classmates turned to me and said the kids had been to the playground and with a roll of her eyes said, “I can take her to the slide. What about learning some letters?”
Crap. I didn’t know that our 4 and 5 year olds were applying to Ivy League schools tomorrow. Why am I always the last to know?
My SKer inverts his letters, skips numbers when he counts to thirty and thinks that Terry Fox lives in the forest behind his grandparents’ house. My pre-schooler would rather pick his nose than pick up a pencil and I am fairly certain I will have a struggle on my hands getting him to read a book, unless of course, he’s on a toilet.
But what my kids do excel at is, being kids. They have wild imaginations that leave me eavesdropping from behind a wall, wishing that I had the video camera recording every sound that they make.
Sometimes the baby bathtub is a speedboat, and an old belt is the water ski rope. Other times it is a racecar whizzing around the perimeter of the playroom. One time it was a bobsled shooting down the stairs (I put a stop to that one). Their new favourite game is playing dogcatcher. The toddling baby* is the stray dog and the older two are “dog nappers” who surprise the unwitting mongrel and toss a net (blanket) over their capture.
The comment from the schoolyard mother made me bristle. Sure anyone can take their own kid to the playground but would any sane person take them with 19 of their peers? It’s on the playground where kids learn social skills. They learn how to take turns, wait in line, and show compassion for others.
They create a bond outside of the classroom that can’t be replicated within the confines of four walls. The way I see it, it’s like a company retreat. Except the company is school and the employees are students.
What’s the point of good grades if a student lacks the social skills to apply them? Furthermore, creativity and imagination need to be nurtured as they are born organically from childhood and simply cannot be taught by an instructor.
In terms of homework, I balance on the fence. In the younger grades homework can actually be a communication tool between parent-teacher and parent-child. Parents can reinforce what was learned in the classroom by engaging in discussions and enhance what is being taught by expanding the classroom walls to include the greater community.
We spent many hours this summer in the garden watching the tomatoes and cucumbers grow. My son explained to me how root systems work and how tomatoes get their red colour. We looked up answers to his questions on the Internet about what vegetables grow in Ontario during the summer months. The seed, pardon the pun, for this learning was a school unit on plants.
I am sure that there will come a time when homework becomes a laborious chore for both of us, but for now and I hope for the future, I continue to look at it as an opportunity to enrich what he is learning.
And here is where I slide to the other side of that fence. Homework that is rote and has no real application is dull. Dull for everyone – student, parent and teacher. Not only is it uninspiring but also it serves no real purpose. In our face-paced society where parents are struggling to get dinner on the table, fighting with kids to complete tedious assignments does not sound like quality time spent – for anyone.
From my perch on the middle of the fence, I say that homework has it’s place but not at the expense of being a kid and bonding as a family. There is so much more to life than grades and academics. And I would say that I am not alone in my thinking.
*(My guess is that boy #3 might make through school on a wrestling scholarship. Just saying).