Friday, March 4, 2005
Page 15
AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)
Extra Homework Brings Extra Headaches
By J’AMY PACHECO
Few things are more difficult than getting a child interested in homework. After a long day at school, it seems the last thing a young student wants is to crack open yet another book and get to work.
It was, therefore, something of a surprise when my third grader announced her intention to complete two cumbersome school projects: a science fair entry, and a story for a writing competition.
My little girl apparently has a scientific gene, because this was her third year entering—voluntarily—her school’s science fair. As I’ve previously explained in this space, she twice came out a winner not only at her school, but in a district-wide science competition as well.
I don’t know where she gets it. My utter lack of scientific capabilities occasionally leads me to believe I brought somebody else’s baby home from the hospital. Every now and then, I look at some poorly-done science fair project, and wonder if it was created by my real child.
She also has twice entered a writing competition at her school. Called “Student Authors,” the competition provides winning student authors the opportunity to see their stories published and to meet a real author.
Both times, victory eluded her—a twist I found ironic, considering the fact her mother earns a living with words.
When she said she intended to enter both this year, I did all I could to encourage her—to skip it.
With so much emphasis placed on meeting state educational standards, I suspect teachers just don’t have time to deal with the little extras, like science fairs and writing contests, during classroom hours. So they become optional, with students pursuing these in their own time, shepherded by their parents. I didn’t know where we would find the time.
Not only would each project be time consuming, but they were due within days of one another. Complicating matters, my daughter decided to partner with her best-buds-since-they-were-three pal, Courtney. That meant schedules would have to be coordinated.
The girls decided—their dedication to pure science obvious—that they wanted their project to have “something to do with Disneyland.” After many false starts, they selected a credible topic: forced perspective.
Many evenings, most weekends and every other available moment were spent researching the topic. Since neither little girl is allowed to drive a car or surf the Internet without parental supervision, that meant their moms had to be available as well.
Weeks flew by, and their project began to take shape. They labored over two models of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, attempting to recreate the illusion that makes the castle appear taller than it really is, in a scale so small that it was almost impossible.
But one rainy night, they lugged their castles to H & E Home Improvement store, where 31 out of 35 customers surveyed said they’d successfully proven what their research said would happen.
At the same time, both girls pounded out their stories. Each did a humorous retelling of a separate real-life incident having nothing to do with science or being switched at birth.
In the middle of all this, my little one became ill. But she remained determined to finish her projects, and I’ll never forget the sight of her propped up in bed drawing the illustrations for her story on the morning it was due.
Two weeks ago, we learned that their hard work had paid off. Both girls were announced as winners of the Student Author contest, and will see their stories published later this year.
Last week, they told adult judges everything they had learned about forced perspective, made them laugh and managed to get themselves named Spotlight Project winners in the science fair.
This sent them to the district competition Saturday, where they wore special badges identifying them as Spotlight project winners, explained their project to complete strangers, and took home another district prize for their accomplishment.
My daughter has achieved more by the third grade than I accomplished in my whole academic career. It’s left me wondering how I’m going to keep up with her when she hits middle school.
I think I’d better start hitting the books myself. I suspect more homework is coming, and I’m not sure how helpful I’m going to be.
Ah, well. At least I can drive.
Copyright 2005, Metropolitan News Company