Reflections Upon the Horrors of Homework.

I was just flicking through an old notebook and came across the draft of a poem I wrote when my daughter was in Year 11.  Homework and assignments have always been a source of conflict in our house, especially in the primary school years.  For some reason my children viewed my input on any school work with deep distrust.  Later in High School they esteemed me more highly, but boarding school limited the input I could have (something for which I have always been grateful and which almost made the fees seem worthwhile).  I have never been a parent who slaved over the books doing the kids homework for them but I think it is important to be involved in a supportive, guiding hand sort of way.  Email and the internet make it comparatively easy to help out with editing and suggesting ideas.  Sadly, email and the internet will never change the tendency for your child to let you know they have an essay or assignment due the very next day.

I do know of parents who take more than a passing interest in their child's school work to the point of doing it for them but realistically this is a waste of time for all.  When in primary school myself, I , true to form, told my mum I had to write a poem for school, due the next day.  My mother retired to her room and emerged triumphant about 2 hours later with quite an epic poem. Well written and emotive, it rhymed beautifully and was quite a powerful rail against the soul destroying relentlessness of doing the dishes.  It was entitled "Dishes".  I knew then that my mother loved me.  I also knew deep in my waters that Mr Padfield would twig that I had not written this marvellous contribution to the body of English Literature. I sincerely thanked her for her efforts and knocked up a 4 line limerick-stlye ditty about something far less profound which satisfied Mr Padfield.  Sadly Mum's writings have since been lost.

Not so mine. My daughter had to write a poem about an issue.  We had a few cursory discussions via phone and email and she rejected all of my suggestions!  Not to be dissuaded I devoted a whole afternoon to composing not one but two poems concerning the issue of plastic surgery, beauty enhancement and augmentation.  I even practised my oral presentation and quite fancied myself delivering these lines in the style of Raymond J. Barthomew on Hey Hey It's Saturday.  

If you are not familiar with this great man's work then look here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlmH5lCh8vs

Luckily there are no more school assignment for me.  In closing I leave here, for posterity my poetical offerings.

It's about writing what you know people.