After-school hours take away family time

Mary McLaughlin

Special to the Gateway

My family is disappearing right before my eyes. My three children — beautiful adults-in-training — are in high school and middle school; the youngest is in elementary school. They are exceptional children, biased though I am.

My husband and I have worked diligently to instill in them a deep curiosity about all sorts of things, from art and music, to sports and science. Fortunately, we’ve succeeded in ways we hadn’t even imagined. Their interests include soccer, piano, oboe, track, choir and ballet. They also enjoy exploring our beautiful surroundings.

However, as my children wind their way through our school district’s course offerings, I find myself increasingly frustrated. Through homework assignments, projects and course-related requirements, school has overtaken my children’s after-school time.

At a recent open house, one teacher said homework would be a daily activity, because “just like us parents with household chores after our work day, students must have daily homework to simulate their future as adults.”

An hour per day for their math class, another hour each for language arts and social studies, and don’t forget foreign language.

Wait a minute! Teachers feel they need to direct my children’s already limited free time? Do they think our children need more to do?

Experts tell us family dinners are one of the best ways to communicate with children while reinforcing meaningful family bonding. However, in order to be on his team, my soccer player returns from practice at 7 p.m., then must shower, complete homework and practice the piano before his younger sister’s 8 p.m. bedtime. That doesn’t leave much time for bonding.

My high-schooler begins homework the moment he gets home at 5:30 p.m. (following cross-country training) and is at it — with breaks for a quick dinner and oboe practice — until 10 p.m. or later.

We’re told young adults his age need adequate amounts of sleep, but a crammed schedule works against that.

When I remind him of his 5:30 a.m. wakeup time, he responds anxiously, “But I’m not done yet, and this is due tomorrow!”

Am I supposed to tell him that he shouldn’t do his homework — that sleep is more important?

Grownups of my parents’ generation say we are pushing our children too hard, and that they shouldn’t be involved in so many activities outside of school. They ask, whatever happened to just coming home from school and playing? That doesn’t happen, I tell them.

If our overextended children don’t participate in after-school activities, they don’t have a social life, since those activities are the only opportunities for socializing.

Recent cuts in our schools’ budgets have resulted in fewer resources for art, music and sports during the school day, if they’re offered at all. And that means those activities are shunted to after-school schedules.

When I was growing up, my brother and I had assigned chores that figured prominently in the efficient running of our household. Today, in my own home, I carry on that important tradition, making sure each person helps out in various ways.

Since my husband travels frequently for work, and I work part-time, I count on my children’s help with daily household care. We feel these chores are an important aspect of family life, and everyone should have an active role in it.

However, it’s hard for me to require my son to get up earlier for chores — must he get up at 5:15 a.m. to do his fair share?

I wonder what the hours of homework achieve. Does a complete understanding of pre-calculus absolutely require one full hour of work after school on the algorithm at hand? Is it impossible to analyze a novel without additional time outside of class each day? High school classes are 85 minutes — isn’t that enough time to learn each subject thoroughly without these hours of additional school work during our family time each day?

A college professor friend of mine recently told me his freshman literature classes are a waste of time. Not because the students are incapable of handling the college-level courses, but because the students have checked out.

They can’t take any more; they’re depleted of all ability to focus on assigned tasks. Until they are sophomores and have had a year’s time to recoup from their rigorous high school schedules, he said it’s impossible to teach them anything.

Of course, I want my children to do well in school — and they do. But the relentless pressure placed on them to achieve higher academic standards is taking away from a rich, balanced home life.

I fully understand the importance of supporting my children’s education, but how can we ensure family unity when our schools do not support us in that crucial effort?

Note to teachers: Thank you for helping educate our children. Now, please, give me back my family.

Mary McLaughlin lives in Gig Harbor. She can be reached by e-mail at mclaughlinmarye@gmail.com.