Let Them Be Little: Why I Boycott Homework…. for now

My baby starts Kindergarten in the fall.

There, I said it.

They say that acceptance is the first step to recovery.

Now will someone please pass me a Xanax?

Mothers with school-age children have been scaring the shit out of me preparing me for what is to come and I have spoken with several Kindergarten teachers on the matter. The themes and overall consensus is deafening; Kindergarten today is not how Kindergarten used to be.

Gone are the half days.
Gone are the days focused on play.
Gone are the days of sticking your fingers into butter tubs filled Elmer’s glue because you can’t be trusted with an entire glue bottle.
Gone are the days of The Letter People. (remember them?)

If you are lucky, your child is able to experience these joys in Pre-School, but nowadays Kindergarten is a structured all-day program where your child will be expected to read, write, compute basic math equations and flawlessly perform a craniotomy before the year is over or risk being ostracized and publicly stoned.

Okay, maybe that is a tad dramatic. But seriously, the idea of my child being expected to read before she is six, sends me into a tailspin of panic. Not because I don’t think she can’t handle it; in fact I’m confident that she will fall head over heels in love with reading (she takes after her momma, after all), but I’m kind of a sucker for the idea of letting my kids actually BE kids.

I want my kids to run through mud puddles, play dress-up, and have make-believe friends.  I want them to watch cartoons strictly for entertainment purposes; not because Beethoven plays in the background or as a means of learning spanish.  I want them to play House and learn how to rock a baby and affectionately say “Bye Sweetie. Have a good day at work. I love you.” I want them to have tea parties and learn to say “Yes, please” and “No, thank you” (preferably in British accents).  I want them to play Chutes and Ladders and learn that sometimes you win and sometimes you lose, but to do both with grace.

When did that become an outdated mindset? Why do we feel the need to push our children to excel faster than their normal development? Why do (some) parents/educators feel that it is more beneficial for a five year old to learn to read than to learn how to socialize and share? Why have we shifted into this paradigm where academia trumps emotional and social development?  Call me crazy, but I’d rather my five year old have a firm grip on her emotions and behavior, have a never-ending imagination, and ever-lasting love for play than hold a place in the advanced reading group.

This is why, for the past year, I have boycotted the homework my daughter has brought home from pre-school. (Seriously. DAILY homework in Pre-school? You’ve got to be kidding me, right?)  Granted, the homework is not graded and has no bearing on how my daughter is assessed in the program, so I’m not a TOTAL bad-ass for refusing to do it, but I stand firm on my decision despite the silent pressure I get from some mothers.

Notice I said mothers. Lily’s teacher, thankfully, supports my decision and has reassured me that I am not setting my child up for a lifetime of academic failure.

However, each day as I drop her off at school, a handful of mothers pull crumbled worksheets out of their child’s book bag and proudly hand them to the teacher. I swear, they look at me with displeasing eyes and thoughts of pity as I shrug my shoulders and walk away, never, ever handing over a worksheet.  I imagine they go home to their husbands and as they prepare nutritious organic meals for their families they say “her poor little girl. Her mother obviously does not care about her education. I mean, she didn’t even do the assignment. How will her daughter ever learn that the sky is blue and the grass is green if she doesn’t do the Color-By-Number work sheet?”   I picture her child sitting at the table surrounded by unbroken crayons, diligently doing his homework while my kids “fly” around the house and saves their baby dolls from evil villains while wearing a bathing suit, rain boots, and a cape.

Okay, I’ll admit, those mother’s probably aren’t judging me or my child’s lack of homework.  They’re probably just wondering what shade of lipstick I’m wearing, if I cut my hair recently or why somedays I wear professional attire to drop off my child and other days I look like the Crypt Keeper in yoga pants. I’m completely comfortable knowing that my delusions stem from my own fear that somehow I am making the wrong decision by not insisting on completing the homework. Isn’t that our constant worry as mothers? That despite doing our best, despite doing what we think is right, we will still inevitably screw up our kids?

At this point, I don’t think my daughter needs to do homework.  Each day after school, we empty her backpack and her ‘homework’ is placed in a folder. Every so often, when she is bored, she will ask “Momma, can I do some homework?” 

Sure, little one. Pick one out. Pick two if you like.

The contents of our we-are-so-bad-ass-we-do-homework-when-we-like folder

Because right now, I can boycott homework and allow you do the homework at your own pace, if at all. I won’t be able to do this for long. Soon we will have to sit down at the kitchen table and do nightly homework. We will have to practice spelling words and color in the lines. We will have to practice sight words and use flashcards. We will have to spend our evenings reviewing addition and subtraction instead of building a fort out of blankets and cushions.

But right now, your only responsibility is to be little.

And my responsibility is to let you.

I will let you be little.