Why I (only partly) envy my li’l bro’s holiday homework
I’ve always been a little envious of Generation Z. Those born after 1995 have a very cool way of finding a meme for every situation, and they are way better at doing the ‘dab’ and the ‘floss’ (both dance moves) than I would ever be.
Take my 12-year-old brother Krishna, a.k.a Kichu, for example. A grade 7 student, he is 19 years younger than I am. His school closed for summer last Thursday. He returned from school and announced the ‘good news’ by putting on a routine that consisted of all the latest dance moves, ending it with a wellpractised twerk.
I asked him, “How are you going to spend this time?” He replied, “I am going to finish all the games on the Xbox, play football in the evenings, and eat a lot of junk food”. Me: “Don’t you have holiday homework?” Him: “Yeah, but Amma doesn’t know about it. Don’t tell her.”
My sister and I weren’t particularly prodigious. So, summer vacations during our childhood didn’t thrill us as much as it did him. My parents were younger when they had us. Which meant they didn’t have the patience to deal with twerks, dabs, and PUBG (PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds).
Though both my parents would argue otherwise, Kichu has it easier than we did.
Also, our mother has been working as a teacher way before the three of us were born. Which only meant that if we had summer holidays, so did she. Two to three hours of study and completing practice questions papers during the summer holidays were a must. “How else will you pass the exams,” she would lament. All three of us are students of the Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE) curriculum.
Our only way of getting away from holiday homework was to lie to mum about the teacher not giving us any — and casually letting her know about it a week before school reopened. Yes, she would give us hell, but, it would last a short time because she would focus on completing the homework than be mad at us. The years we didn’t make it to India for the summer holidays, my sister and I would head down to the neighbourhood park and play badminton or jungle gym for hours.
So, in the middle of Kichu’s dance routine last Thursday, my mom yelled from the kitchen, “you have to finish your holiday homework, Kichu. I got an e-mail from your school. You have homework and projects for all subjects. You have to do it every day for three hours if you want to complete it by September.” He looked as though he’d lost his best friend. In our time, there were no e-mails from school teachers. Maybe I shouldn’t be so envious of Gen Z after all.
Since I was off work that day, I promised Kichu I’d help him with his homework. After lunch, we logged onto his school website student portal and downloaded the holiday homework for Grade 7 students. Thinking of my school days, I expected single page printouts, model question papers, and building a miniature structure of an architectural marvel using toothpicks and cardboard. No such luck.
Take Kichu’s Social Science homework, for example. He has to complete a project in ‘The Art of Giving Sustainability’ wherein he has to research the UAE’s policy on foreign aid and the nation’s economic and social welfare. He has been instructed to acquire information/research from newspapers, internet and other sources to make a model/ brochure, or a chart.
Apart from individual assignments in each subject, the students were given learning resources such as e-learning links, Khan Academy links, and e-workbooks; subject enrichment projects such as class magazines and group projects; and portions for the half-yearly examinations.
However, the school instructs parents to ‘help the ward follow a routine that would enable students to make the most out of their holidays, with a healthy balance between school work and leisure time.’
For his science and technology projects, he had to explain the causes of health issues in the silk and wool industry.
Intrigued, I rang up another teacher, A.G, an educator for 13 years, and her first response was, “holiday homework? Are you going to print something negative in the paper?” I assured her I had no such intentions, and was only curious about how homework was done 15 years ago, and how teachers design homework content today.
“Pupils need to be made ready for the workforce of the future. They need to be given an idea of how things would be 20 years from now. Sustainability, environment, climate change, astrophysics, IT… We encourage students to envision a better future using the content derived from these subjects. They need to be able to create a healthy future, without hurting the planet.”
How do teachers do something like that? While she explained more about ‘student goal settings’, assessment and academic year planners, I went back to envying Gen Z. Why wasn’t I given the freedom to cultivate such incredible worldviews as a student? Why did I fear my teachers, and not admire or be inspired by them? Why was my holiday homework all about cutting and pasting newspaper articles? Why didn’t my projects give me the freedom to think critically? Is this how my school toppers felt because they were smarter and developed really cool worldviews? Should I have read more than just Harry Potter?
Feeling a bit dejected, I sat back down with Kichu, and asked, “Are you happy doing your homework? What do you like most about it?” He said, “Actually, Naanuchechi (he calls me that), homework does make me think outside the box. It helps me become creative. Yeah, sometimes I do get lazy and bored, but that is because I want to play instead.”
He added, “Amma doesn’t understand, but video games also help improve my problem-solving skills.”
I don’t blame my brother for wanting to play video games for two months straight. After all, he is only 12. But, a part of him enjoys homework, and for now, that is enough.