We can have the conversation about the value of homework. We can point to the research, bring up anecdotal evidence, or talk about how it prepares kids for (insert your choice of false sense of a justified next step). Honestly, that's not what I'm here for right now.

One big hurdle for me has always been the homework completion rate. Why aren't kids doing their homework when it is assigned? Well, it's just kids these days. They don't have the work ethic, they're too hooked on their devices, their parents enable them, they expect things to be given to them, and sooooooo onnnnnnnn...

During a discussion with one of my colleagues, I asked her if she had ever asked her students about why they weren't doing their homework. Y'know, going straight to the source. In a fit of frustration, that's exactly what I did, and the results were--to say the least--enlightening.

I'm not going to dive into each of these responses. Instead, I am encouraging you to ask your students the same question. If you're having trouble with students completing your homework, and you're not ready to remove the practice altogether, it might be a good idea to find out why your students aren't doing it. 

To help, I'll walk you through what I did:

• I sat down at the front of the room
• I told them that I was in need of some help
• I asked them to be honest
• I asked them why they weren't doing their homework

Yep, that's it. And, believe it or not, a group of teens who felt like nobody ever listens to them opened up and shared the brutal honesty. There were other responses throughout the day, but the ones above are the ones that stuck out the most to me. In fact, they resonated so much that it was one of the deciding factors in me eliminating a homework requirement completely.

So what's next?

Rather than assigning homework that would be collected and graded, I offered voluntary practice sets. Much like a homework assignment, I would put the handout at the back of the room, the page number on the board, or post it to my online resource page. Much like a homework assignment, I told the students that I would give feedback on what was turned in. What is different, though, is that I didn't make it mandatory. It was recommended that students would try a few problems throughout the week, but I figured that those who could do the practice, would. Those who couldn't, for whatever reason, wouldn't.

​I must say that it was much less stressful than trying to collect, grade, and enter 178 student papers every time I gave homework. So, selfishly, it was pretty awesome.

Was it perfect?
No. Of course not.
Was it better than what I was doing before?
I believe so.
If nothing more, it showed that I cared about their responses, and hopefully it showed that I cared about them.

Now, my questions to you: After asking your students why they don't do their homework, what did they say? More importantly, what are you going to do with their responses? How are you going to show your students that you care about the feedback they provide?

Happy "Honest Feedback" Fishing


Update: 
Here are some featured comments from the Twitters

You probably already know this, but I have taken a sincere interest in finding ways to support parents who want to have more math-based conversations with their kids and teachers who recognize this area as one of need. It should be no surprise, then, that my most recent work during conferences and workshops have been centered around a very important foundation:

A child's parents will have the most profound impact on the life of the child.

Sure, when asked who their favorite teacher was, most kids--and adults--will rattle off their 5th grade teacher who loved them dearly, their 8th grade science teacher who fostered a love of science, or their AP Calculus teacher who found a way to make it all click... or some iteration of those. Rarely will a response come that thanks a parent, or family member who helped raise them, for teaching an ideal, setting a foundation, and supporting their every ambition.

So now, the big question I have as a teacher, is "What can I do to help?"

I'm a teacher, trying everything I possibly can, to help my students' get the most out of their education. My response lies here:

From the perspective of an educator, these are the things I hope we can encourage our parent community to do as a way of supporting their child's educational journey. 

Well, I shared this slide, and a few others, with a group of educators in California at an EdTechTeam Summit this weekend and we proceeded to talk about ways we are supporting parents. It was a ton of fun, mostly because I had people take on roles.

In setting this session up, I thought about the many "types" of parents and labels we place on them, leaving many of the stereotypes intentionally vague. I had no idea what to expect, no clue on the conversations that would ensue, and just had to take the risk and try it out.

The conversations were phenomenal. The viewpoints varied, with attendees taking on different vantage points of the label. You may look at "Single with No Support" as a negative, but someone else may see it as a positive. It was fascinating to listen to people talk through their ideas on this prompt in particular:

Your child gets sent home with some work that the teacher wants to be completed as a family. How do you handle this as a parent with that label?

So, I'll ask you the same thing. Whether it's replying in the comments, tweeting it out to me, or just thinking to yourself, I'm interested in how you answer the question from the perspective of someone with the label of your birth month. 

The big thing here is to be aware of how we are perceiving our parent community and in what ways we can lean on them for mutual support of their child's learning. After all, they are sending us their best and we owe it to them to try.

Happy "Parental Support" Fishing