Learning Your Limits: Homework Part Two

Part Two of Four

Homework. It’s evil, I say.

What’s wrong with homework? You say. Doesn’t it teach a strong work ethic? Doesn’t it communicate the importance of learning? Doesn’t it reinforce the learning that happened that day in class? Doesn’t it give the parents a window into the child’s day and therefore strengthen the family bonds?

The importance of learning.

Does homework communicate the importance of learning? This one is a bit complex. Let’s start with that word, “learning.” Just what is learning?

Humans are wired for learning. It’s our adaptable brain that has kept our species on this planet for so long. We’re born learners. It’s crucial for our survival. Am I being redundant? I just really want to drive this home. Humans learn. It’s what we do. Unfortunately, sometimes what we learn is that it’s unwise, even painful to follow our own learning instinct.

I’ll say it again. Children learn through play. Does homework feel like play? Maybe to some. For those kids who love homework, more power to you! There’s a good chance you possess the type of intelligence our culture values and your school experience will be less painful than most. But you may also want to pay attention to whether you really love the work itself or whether you’re into it to win your teacher’s favor or to demonstrate your academic superiority?

Before getting to the root of homework evil #2, I’ve got to veer down a rabbit hole a moment to explain some deterrents of play:

Unfortunately, we no longer trust our children to their own devices when it comes to play. We’ve become suspicious of children in general and think that if allowed to direct their own time, they’ll be naughty. That somehow it’s the nature of children to create trouble, so we must fill every moment with an adult directed activity. And it’s true that children will break things (rarely to purposely annoy the adults in their lives,) hurt themselves, make messes, etc. but is there learning to be gleaned from such instances?

Or our kids just seem incapable of directing their own play. Is it any wonder? Most have never really had the opportunity to just allow their imagination to guide their activities. With their days filled with school during which their level of compliance determines their worth, daydreaming and creativity are at best not valued, and even have the potential to be punished, is it any wonder that most shut down that imaginative capacity? Throw in the never-ending digital content at their fingertips and our children have little incentive to tap into their inner resources for entertainment. Maybe I’ll do another post on the power of boredom—a lost inspiration.

Another detractor from play is the very real lack of safety and playmates. No longer do our children have the freedom to free range (this is even illegal in many states) through the neighborhood in packs. We don’t have the tight knit communities we used to have where we knew and cared about our neighbors and everyone was looking out for the local kids. This “village” if you will, where kids could walk out their front door and quickly find other kids to play with and there was less fear of predators because there was safety in numbers and more familiar adults to approach in case of trouble.

So I don’t want to appear naïve of these obstacles to free play, but in the best case scenario, kids would have the freedom to direct their own learning after school. They’d build and tear down forts, use magnifying glasses to start fires, poke at insects, and play in the mud, discovering how the world works and developing problem-solving skills. They’d climb trees and sometimes fall out of them, learning what hurts and developing a better sense of their bodies. They’d play make believe and practice different social roles, developing their communication skills, empathy, and boundaries. They’d fall down often, both literally and figuratively, and learn how to pick themselves back up, developing risk tolerance and resilience. Is this learning? Is it important learning?

Homework displaces playtime. So does it communicate the importance of learning? Oh, it most certainly does.  Children learn that moving their bodies is less important than reading storyless decodables. They learn that spending time developing relationships is less important than practicing math facts. They learn that their self-chosen projects are less important than school projects. They learn that school’s values trump their own. They learn that hard work is more important than self-care. They learn that their own judgment is not to be trusted. They learn they’re incapable of making sound decisions.  They learn to suppress their intuition.

Oh, the importance of learning!