Ditto For Homework Swamped Mom

An article written by Matthew Futterman, a popular columnist from the Newark Star Ledger entitled "Daddy, Have You Done My Homework?" recently appeared in the Sunday paper. After reading it, I was both shocked and upset–shocked that it wasn't written years ago, and upset because it didn’t make the front page.

Mr. Futterman lamented over having to do homework with (and sometimes for) his children, expressing angst over the fact that homework has now become a “communal experience.” He noted among his daughter’s various assignments was an exercise that involved finding every letter in her name in the newspaper, cutting them out and then spelling her name with them. He remarked, “My Kindergartner is not yet 5. She manipulates a scissors with the precision of a meat cleaver. So, guess who does the cutting, and guess who turns the newspaper pages, and, since we're being truthful here, guess who pretty much points out each letter one-by-one- by-one?”

Poor Mr. Futterman. Sorry to break the news, but it only gets worse. Just wait until you find yourself on a first name basis with the sales clerk at A.C. Moore. Who knew you’d need craft supplies for a Language Arts project? And who would have dreamed it would be in Music class where three page reports on obscure Renaissance composers are now the norm. (Thank heaven for large fonts, double spacing, and Google). And exactly how does the requirement of one of those pricey, oversized tri-fold boards work their way into a syllabus for a project anyway? Not to mention the part about the numerous weekends (doing nothing else) and close calls with hot glue guns. But I digress, it’s been a long day of homework, and the more stringent the curriculum becomes, the more I’m convinced I don’t have much more than a fourth grade education.

Even though I’m not a teacher (could you tell?) I’m awarding Mr. Futterman extra credit for his article because it inspired me to do some homework of my very own.

A few days after the article was published, I started making random phone calls around a quarter to nine at night – just to see how many other parents had seen it. But first, I started out each call with a simple question: "What are you doing?" Every single parent had the exact same response: "Doing homework with Johnny/Janie." All conversations were sporadically interrupted with, "excuse me," followed by shouts of "do it now or else!" Sometimes the "excuse me" part was absent. Sometimes the “or else” part was dauntingly explicit. By the time I concluded my brief survey, virtually all of the moms had resorted to potty talk. When one mom asked her husband if he had seen the article, she broke out in hysterical (yes, that kind of hysterical) laughter. Ironically, she said he had noticed the headline–but was so busy doing homework and projects with his son over the weekend, that he didn't have time to read it!

Now that school is in full swing, is it no coincidence that many husbands are now suddenly working late at the office? Let's hope that's where they are. There seem to be a lot of minivans parked outside of the neighborhood tavern lately. But that's another survey. Maybe they’re all just picking up pizza.

Mr. Futterman mentioned that in his town there was actually an e-mail group for all the parents in his second-grader's class where parents who can't understand the homework can get help from the parents who do. And then asked the question “Is this progress?” My question is, hey, how come our school doesn't have this? Are we behind?

Finally, after I’ve finished complaining about homework, the last thing I want to hear a teacher say is 'we are all in the same boat because teachers are parents too.' Yeah, except teachers have the advantage–and at least if they get stumped–assumably a better phone chain.

Could someone throw me an extra oar? Add me to their e-mail group? Anybody?