Here’s what you (and my mom) need to know about homework

My mom called me to wish me good luck in the upcoming school year. We chatted for a few minutes about the first few days of school before she paused and said, “Emily…do you give your students homework?”

I hemmed and hawed at my mom’s question the same way I do when the parents of prospective students at my school ask how much homework they can expect.

I am lucky to teach at a public charter high school where I have almost complete control over what and how I teach, as long as it meets the guidelines of the curriculum framework which our staff tweaks and our board approves annually. Even so, our primary responsibility is to educate kids and to make sure they have the skills then need when they leave our school.

When I was in high school, my homework was pretty clear cut: page 231, #1–20, reach chapter 12.2 and do summary questions 1–4 or conjugate ten french verbs and use the in a sentence.

In my ten years of teaching though, I have given out assignments like those above only a handful of times. My mom astutely pointed my three siblings and I all did plenty of homework and we seem to have turned out just fine. And what began as defending myself to my pushy parent led me down a wormhole of thinking about and contemplating everything homework related.

It’s not graded, and there won’t be a quiz, but put on your thinking caps and join me for a spell.

First of all, let’s start with graded homework, which is the worst kind of all. Let’s imagine a hypothetical class where a teacher introduces and explains a new topic. We’ll use the pythagorean theorem as an example. Students might take some notes, draw some pictures, do a few practice problems and ask questions. naturally, some of the students will understand this topic pretty quickly. It follows suit that some students might not understand it at all. And then there are students who sort of understand, but may need more practice and reinforcement.

So all of these students go home with a list of problems related to triangles — probably a dozen or so simpler problems, then a few word problems and maybe a real stumper at the end that uses variables or is about a boat or building a house or something.

If this was an easy topic for a student, then the problems are easy, which might seem like it’s a great thing. But it’s also a lost opportunity. Instead of working on more challenging problems, or considering the real world application of this type of math, the student whips out a little bit of easy work and moves on to something else.

If the assignment is graded, this student will get a perfect score. But let’s be clear — this A+ doesn’t mean that the student was challenged, made connections or persevered through difficult work. It just means they got the right answers. Not great.

On the other hand, if a student didn’t understand how to do the problems in class, then they also won’t understand how to do the problems at home. There’s nothing magical about a bus ride that will impart knowledge and understanding into a student’s mind. At home, this student will have to decide — attempt to do the assignment, get them all wrong and get a failing grade or don’t do the assignment, get a failing grade, but at least have a fun night doing something enjoyable.

A wise educator once told me that when given the choice between looking stupid or looking bad, students will almost always choose bad. Whether or not this student does the assignment: F. Maybe he or she will understand it tomorrow, or in a week with some extra help. But those F homework grades will take their toll both mathematically and emotionally. Again, not great.

There will be some students hovering between competence and incompetence. When they get home, the do a few problems, start to see the connections, work through a few kinks until: presto! They are a-squared-plus-b-squared masters and they can solve the heck out of a hypotenuse with just a couple of square roots and the correct order of operations. This is great! But unfortunately, this student only got 13/20 problems right for a solid C+. So the student that actually benefited from the assignment now has a lower homework average than the student who learned nothing from the assignment.

With this graded homework model in place, schools become a place to celebrate and recognize students who are already smart and know things instead of a place to celebrate and recognize growth, hard work and the gains that all students can make.

Not great.

But if graded homework doesn’t benefit students, can’t schools just stop grading homework?

I wish it were that simple.

A good friend of mine tells a story about his college physics class. There was a test and the average score was way down in the 50% area. As the students were groaning and bemoaning their low scores, one student, who had scored a 99%, was indignant and marched directly up to the professor. He contested the question, and the professor, admitting his own calculation error, crossed off the 99% score and changed it to a 100%. The professor shook his head and said, “And the rich get richer, Mr. Bentley.”

I think of this story when I hear about teachers and schools that only grade homework for completion. When I was in high school, I came home to parents who fed me snacks, supplied me with sharp pencils, bright lights and a quiet place to work and set the expectation that my homework would be done and in my backpack before anything resembling fun or happiness could creep into my life. Even now — at 37 — they still ask me about homework!

I now know that this is not the norm. For homeless students, abused or neglected students, students grieving the loss of a parent, students with mental illness, living in poverty, living in hiding, living in the clutter of a hoarder house or suffering for food insecurity, homework often takes a back seat to more pressing issues. When basic needs aren’t met, it’s tough to see the importance of right triangles, and even if you do, it’s tough to do homework without the space or supplies to do it.

So when those checkmarks for complete and the Xs for missing or incomplete go into the book, it’s another case of the rich getting richer. The students with all checkmarks will have a high homework score and the students with a bunch of Xs will have a low homework score. It might seem like something of little importance, but it has a huge impact. When those low completion scores are averaged or compiled in some way to contribute to a students’ overall GPA, that GPA is what may determine which college a student is accepted into, or even what scholarships or other opportunities are available to them.

So the student with the nice home life and the hook for his backpack and the desk in his bedroom now has a higher GPA — even if every answer on the homework was wrong. And the student who may have been sleeping in his dad’s truck because of an eviction now has a lower GPA — whether his answers were right or wrong. And the rich get richer.

So what does GPA even mean, anyway?

It’s not a simple question, and it’s far beyond the scope of my little dive into the topic of homework. But it’s one that schools — and students, and parents and colleges — need to start thinking about.

Back to homework though. Grading it doesn’t work, not grading it doesn’t work. What’s left? Send kids home to play fortnight and hope for the best?

I wish that the second half of this article was the answer. I wish that I could tell you that I have figured out an equitable, enjoyable, creative and even timesaving solution to the homework dilemma. I haven’t. But I am working on it, so I’ll share with you the working version of my own personal treatise on homework.

Here’s What I’ve Learned about Homework (so far)

Because I will never assign graded homework or check for completion, there needs to be some other motivation for students to do my assignments. To plan these types of assignments, I try to think, “What can students do tonight that will make class better tomorrow?” I teach science, so there’s lots of room for experiments. In once class, we all made bread dough and the assignment was to take it home and bake it. Some students said they didn’t have an oven, or they weren’t allowed to use it. I encouraged them to get creative and visit a neighbor or offer up household help in exchange for 30 minutes of oven use. Despite their excuses, every student brought in a loaf of bread for us to taste test the following day. We had great discussions about temperature, chemistry and even how ovens work as we considered the crumb, flavor and texture of each loaf.

Similarly, I once asked students to bring in samples of pet food. I was able to bring my dog to school and we did sniff tests to see which foods he showed a preference for. Almost all of the students remembered and brought in some kind of pet food, and most also either brought in the label or took a picture of it so that we could do a comparison. You would be right if you argued that the students learned nothing from putting some kibble in a bag and bringing it in. But I think that if you could have been present for the following discussions — about the ingredients, the costs, the shapes, sizes and colors of individual pieces of food and even the devoted loyalty that some students had to their brand — you would start to think differently.

The benefits of these types of assignments are that they still help kids practice remembering to do things and being responsible. Also, their families often ask questions about these weird types of assignments which leads to good conversations at home. And at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter to me if I have 18 or 22 students complete the assignment. So no one is punished or graded poorly if they aren’t able to complete it.

Another thing that I have learned is that I need to show enthusiasm for what I am asking students to do. Last year, I was teaching a unit on encoding information and I got hooked on these cryptogram puzzles. I would pass out several puzzles — easier, medium and very incredibly hard ones. “Just try them,” I suggested. Then students saw me frantically working on them, and saw me consulting with other students on them until we had a little sub-culture of puzzle solving. Kids came and knocked on my door in the morning to tell me that they had solved new puzzles.

Finally, I’ve learned that the best way to get students to do school work is by building a positive relationship with them. That means that this September, I will have a lot of conversations about BMX bikes, drawing tablets, the pros and cons of nose rings, or how teenagers of today are really the first ones to appreciate the Beatles or plaid flannel shirts. By putting the time in now to build a rapport with my students, I am increasing the likelihood that they will follow through and complete the work that I give them.

All of this and I still haven’t answered the question: Do I give homework?

At the end of the day, I do. Along with it though, I try to give loads of support and guidance. Lots of encouragement. Detailed feedback about the assignment and how it needs to be improved before it can be accepted for credit. Online resources that can help review material. Email reminders, detailed instructions and sometimes funny little accompanying videos or photos.

That’s it. It’s not perfect, but I can live with it. And mom — I hope you can to.