Whose Project Is It, Anyway?
(Originally written in March, 2001; my son was in the 7th grade)
A while ago my son brought home a project syllabus to be signed. It was from his Geography class. After looking it over, I could see why the teacher asked for a signature. She wanted to be sure none of the parents would later claim ignorance of how extensive or involved it was. The syllabus of this behemoth was no less than four pages long, broken into five categories, from which the students must earn at least 30 points each. Within each category there was a list of projects, each with a point value ranging from 5 to 30. They could choose which projects to complete, so long as they achieved the point values required. They were given four weeks for the entire thing, though they could hand portions in early. Dilly.
Now, apart from having seen college curriculums covering an entire course that were easier, I knew many of these sub-projects (re-creating a traditional folk instrument, creating a crossword puzzle, making a traditional mask, etc.) were simply beyond my 12-year-old's capabilities. Heck, they were beyond ANY 12-year-old's capabilities. Mensa students would be hard-pressed to accomplish so much in so little time. At least, by himself. I groaned, grunting something about calling the school to complain even though we both knew that was out. It would only get him into trouble. Hmm. I had a few, choice words for this teacher. But I said no more and signed, feeling as if I were signing away my son's (not to mention my own) free time for the foreseeable future. Until the due date, our lives were not our own.
Granted, I believe parents should be involved with their children's education. I really do. But something has changed since I went to school. Then, school kids didn't even GET homework until they reached the third grade and didn't have a project more extensive than a book report until junior high (middle school). At that, the project might include building 1 (count ‘em, one) model or would be a list of 10 projects from which we were expected to choose one.
While I believe in a parent's involvement I resent projects that require or assume my help. When I was in school, parental involvement was looked down upon and that always made sense to me. Until my son entered middle school (why do we call 7th and 8th grades middle school now, anyway? Is that so kids can feel like a middle child?) I stuck by that, too. Except for a wee bit of dabbling in a few ambitious assignments in elementary school (and even those were minor compared to the type of work he's been given this year), I managed to maintain my hands-off approach and he managed to maintain an "A" average.
But not in Middle School (is it from the term "Middle Ages? Mideval?). Since my son first walked those august halls my efforts have been an essential resource, as important as his agenda (another item recently introduced to complicate a student's life), his computer and his library card. Knowing that all the other parents are finding time to help their kids, it would be like throwing him to the lions to expect him to do it all alone. And, just to put the pressure on (as if there weren't enough already), this one project counted as four parts of the term grade. Hoo-boy! Talk about pressure. Not to mention parental guilt. I envisioned him someday coming home from his santitation job, hot, sweaty and tired and looking at me with eyes that said, if only you'd helped a little more then.
As we dug into making a paper mache mask, then creating a replica of a national monument, (not to mention spending hours on the internet in research), I rhetorically asked my son, "do the schools understand that my own free time is severely limited, between working full-time, running a household and finding time together?" He nodded glumly, resenting the intrusion as much as I. We prefer to choose what we do together with the little time we have. Or does the school assume we never spend any time together. Have families reached such a state that parents do little more than shuffle their children from activity to home each day, never spending more than five minutes together? It seems, even if you don't, there's still precious little time together.
He handed in the various portions of the project, both of us glad to be rid of it. Still, I couldn't help but ask him several days later and without the least bit of sarcasm, "What kind of grade did we get?"
A while ago my son brought home a project syllabus to be signed. It was from his Geography class. After looking it over, I could see why the teacher asked for a signature. She wanted to be sure none of the parents would later claim ignorance of how extensive or involved it was. The syllabus of this behemoth was no less than four pages long, broken into five categories, from which the students must earn at least 30 points each. Within each category there was a list of projects, each with a point value ranging from 5 to 30. They could choose which projects to complete, so long as they achieved the point values required. They were given four weeks for the entire thing, though they could hand portions in early. Dilly.
Now, apart from having seen college curriculums covering an entire course that were easier, I knew many of these sub-projects (re-creating a traditional folk instrument, creating a crossword puzzle, making a traditional mask, etc.) were simply beyond my 12-year-old's capabilities. Heck, they were beyond ANY 12-year-old's capabilities. Mensa students would be hard-pressed to accomplish so much in so little time. At least, by himself. I groaned, grunting something about calling the school to complain even though we both knew that was out. It would only get him into trouble. Hmm. I had a few, choice words for this teacher. But I said no more and signed, feeling as if I were signing away my son's (not to mention my own) free time for the foreseeable future. Until the due date, our lives were not our own.
Granted, I believe parents should be involved with their children's education. I really do. But something has changed since I went to school. Then, school kids didn't even GET homework until they reached the third grade and didn't have a project more extensive than a book report until junior high (middle school). At that, the project might include building 1 (count ‘em, one) model or would be a list of 10 projects from which we were expected to choose one.
While I believe in a parent's involvement I resent projects that require or assume my help. When I was in school, parental involvement was looked down upon and that always made sense to me. Until my son entered middle school (why do we call 7th and 8th grades middle school now, anyway? Is that so kids can feel like a middle child?) I stuck by that, too. Except for a wee bit of dabbling in a few ambitious assignments in elementary school (and even those were minor compared to the type of work he's been given this year), I managed to maintain my hands-off approach and he managed to maintain an "A" average.
But not in Middle School (is it from the term "Middle Ages? Mideval?). Since my son first walked those august halls my efforts have been an essential resource, as important as his agenda (another item recently introduced to complicate a student's life), his computer and his library card. Knowing that all the other parents are finding time to help their kids, it would be like throwing him to the lions to expect him to do it all alone. And, just to put the pressure on (as if there weren't enough already), this one project counted as four parts of the term grade. Hoo-boy! Talk about pressure. Not to mention parental guilt. I envisioned him someday coming home from his santitation job, hot, sweaty and tired and looking at me with eyes that said, if only you'd helped a little more then.
As we dug into making a paper mache mask, then creating a replica of a national monument, (not to mention spending hours on the internet in research), I rhetorically asked my son, "do the schools understand that my own free time is severely limited, between working full-time, running a household and finding time together?" He nodded glumly, resenting the intrusion as much as I. We prefer to choose what we do together with the little time we have. Or does the school assume we never spend any time together. Have families reached such a state that parents do little more than shuffle their children from activity to home each day, never spending more than five minutes together? It seems, even if you don't, there's still precious little time together.
He handed in the various portions of the project, both of us glad to be rid of it. Still, I couldn't help but ask him several days later and without the least bit of sarcasm, "What kind of grade did we get?"
posted by Marige | 6/10/2008 12:33:00 PM
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