Thirty-something speaks
Homework and volcanic flashbacks
Mike Maddock

There is a trend in education called the family project. In a perfect world, the family project should bring a smile to your face and warm your heart.

Think about it. Proud moms, dads, and their children are seated around the kitchen table with some Elmer's Glue, a pile of construction paper, and those little scissors that couldn't cut through a stick of butter. Together, the parents and kids are discussing the intricacies of the Revolutionary War while constructing a scale model of George Washington's crossing of the Delaware River. No timetables...no worries...just hours of quality time between adults and children.

But this isn't a perfect world, is it?

The reality is more like this. Mom and Dad have either forgotten about this project or little Junior has put it off to the last possible second. Suddenly, a normal, hectic night turns into complete pandemonium.

Mom is torn between teaching her child a hard lesson and letting that child suffer the embarrassment of an incomplete project or suffering the embarrassment herself when Timmy and his perfect mom show up to class with a Gettysburg documentary that would make Ken Burns a little jealous.

Dad is having flashbacks to his sophomore year in high school when he was a world-class procrastinator himself. He could have gotten an A on his science project by studying the effects of cigarette smoke on the Himalayan hissing cockroach over the course of several months, but instead he settled for a D on a volcano pitifully constructed the night before the due date.

The result is that a nice evening at home is suddenly turned into a free-for-all. Mom is doing her best MacGyver imitation trying to turn a pizza box, a couple of paper clips, and a slightly used coloring book into the Delaware River, while dad is mumbling something about baking soda and vinegar. Meanwhile the two perfectly innocent siblings are living out a Lord of the Flies fantasy in the playroom because they have been forced to rough it out and survive the rest of the night on their own. It's not pretty.

After a lot of crying and fussing, Mom finally sends Dad to the playroom with a box of tissues and a shield to deal with the suddenly native other children. Mom manages to throw something together with her child and teach her not only something about the birth of our nation, but about the evils of procrastination. "You don't want to end up like your father, do you?"

The next day Mom takes her child to school with the completed project in hand trying desperately to avoid Timmy and his perfect mom.

I'm all for family projects. I just don't want my child's grade depending on it. Let me handle the family togetherness. We've got some bushes that need planting, and the playroom could always use a good cleaning out.

I've paid my dues. Nearly two decades of school definitely taught me one thing; I don't want to go to school anymore. It's time to give my kids the homework and pass on a legacy of learning that may include a few volcanic flashbacks for my kids and their classmates.