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The educational road less traveled by parents
By Deborah Taylor-Hollis
Before my son grew up so fast, the days were filled with papier mâché art and singing, long walks in the sun and reading book after book late into the night.
We baked together and built fantasy rail trains under the dining room table, across the living room, and out into the porch.
He made models of dinosaurs, painted pictures of the night skies, and learned about gardening.
As he grew, each day he learned more and more at school and would bring home wonderful ideas and great plans. He talked from kindergarten through second grade about the things he wanted to do.
There was less and less time to do them however, and each week brought home more paperwork to finish, less time to get it done and more reluctance on his part to voluntarily do the work.
Homework became a daily nuisance, and over time, a war. My happy son started to resent more and more work that took up more and more of his day, and he fought it harder and harder, dragging me and the whole family into a cycle of disharmony and anger.
I hated this cycle, and while I know that my son needs the maturity to be responsible, it isn't here right now, and I didn't want to be his warden anymore.
I wanted my family life back. I was also resenting the nightly fights, the screaming wars, the threats, the lost play dates, the unread books, the angry words and late dinners while I tried to force this small person to do his schoolwork.
His teachers--the most wonderful people we have ever had--wanted the work done daily and offered all sorts of assistance to me to help him get it done, as well as incentives for him when he did it. Nothing changed. From the time he got in the car until his head hit the pillow, it was him versus the pencil and paper.
I read the books, talked to the behaviorist, the teachers, the aides, the educators, and myself until I was blue in the face before hitting on a radical decision.
His homework is not my problem. And I will no longer be his jailer. I want to be his mommy.
I went back to the folks at school, and we worked out a new plan--one that doesn't include me enforcing what the school asks him to do. It is no longer my fault if he doesn't finish his work, and I am no longer being treated like I have to perform or be considered a bad mom when he doesn't do what they ask.
My son--all 8 years and 7 months of him--is being held to his own standards, and has been told that he will not graduate, and will have to live with the consequences of his own decisions if he doesn't do the work on his own, without my demanding it or nagging about it or fighting him or seriously intervening any more.
Now, I have time to cook dinners again, and we have started his bigger art projects for the year. Now we can cook together and there is time for shampoos and bedtime stories. Now he can be sure of play dates and they will be regular events and not promises that never happen because of incomplete homework assignments. Now the toughest part of parenting begins.
I can't nag, bully, push, sit with, argue over, help, bribe, swear, beg, guilt, punish, pull, tease or taunt him into doing what is right. I have to let it just happen and sit back and watch.
Some of my friends asked why. Why endanger his graduating to fourth grade?
I reminded them that I could make his problems my problems for only so long. Eventually, at the rate he was going, he would flunk out--and if that was going to happen, better to have him held back now in our safe, kind elementary school where he can get all the support he needs, than to wait until the bad habits are ingrained, and the cost is failed freshman year at college, failed jobs and failed marriages.
The cycle starts so easily--a parent wants his or her child to excel--and helps him or her as they start down the path of learning. We read to them and reinforce what happens at school in our homes. We support the learning and the education with more of the same at home. We try to be not just good parents--but the best parents.
There comes a point, though, when all that help backfires--and not only the schools, but our own kids expect us to do the work for them, find them the motivation, and even take the blame when they fail.
Right now, we are a growth experience in process--but at least now we can finish reading Treasure Island, scarf down some Easy Bake Oven pies, and giggle under the covers, sharing secrets instead of threats. Instilling responsibility and a work ethic is much harder on me.
You can give Deborah your support and parenting opinions at DTHollis@svcn.com.
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Willow Glen, California Since 1992
