Jul. 31, 2000
The beach is a mile away, the July sun is shining. But at
Beacon Day School in Oakland, Calif., it's the 212th day
of classes (only 28 to go before the one-week summer break!),
and a group of nine- and ten-year-olds is struggling through
a spelling test on parts of the body--lungs, heart, stomach,
brain. The afternoon math lesson isn't any easier: How many
times does 6 go into 8,342? You might think these were 18th
century Puritans. But the kids are all smiles. "School is
really fun," says precocious Annie Marcuzzo. "Camps are
boring."
Yes, that's right, with no prompting necessary. At Beacon,
which sits on a quiet stretch of industrial land, the
enthusiasm may be due to teachers as bubbly as the kids,
or it may be simply that everyone understands the bonus
that comes with this many days of school: no homework
until sixth grade.
Everywhere but here, it seems, the clamor for higher
standards has driven schools to assign more and more homework.
Grade-school children now average well in excess of two
hours of homework a night, compared with 85 minutes in
1981, according to the University of Michigan. Last year
the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons reported that
thousands of kids have back, neck and shoulder problems
from lugging heavy backpacks. At Beacon the books stay
at school; each day Annie carries only her bright blue
lunchbox.
Founder Thelma Farley taught in public schools for 20
years before becoming fed up with what she calls the "rigid,
bureaucratic monolith" of public education. Kids need
to learn continuously all year, she believes, and schools
need to stop invading the little family time Americans
have left. So in 1982 she started Beacon, which in 18
years has grown from seven students to 300 on two campuses,
with a wait list. The 240-day elementary-school calendar
is not as daunting as it seems. Families can take vacation
time whenever they want (a carefully individualized curriculum
makes this possible), so most Beacon kids end up with
about 220 days of school a year. "We try to preserve family
life," says Farley, "and homework disrupts families."
Her sentiments are echoed in a new book that challenges
the idea that homework helps students perform better.
For years it's been conventional wisdom that homework
teaches kids to manage time, organize and learn on their
own. And there is some statistical evidence that, at least
in junior high and high school, homework improves academic
achievement. But, argue authors John Buell and Etta Kralovec
in The End of Homework, "both research and historical
experience fail to demonstrate the necessity or efficacy
of ever longer hours of homework." Kralovec, an educational
researcher and former teacher, and Buell, a political
scientist, note that not a single study conclusively establishes
homework's advantages. And, says Kralovec, think about
the trade-offs--"all that time you didn't spend with your
grandmother, doing community service, reading the newspaper,
playing outside."
Preserving that time is one reason Annie's parents, who
both work outside the home, were drawn to Beacon. Annie
plays recreational soccer, does art projects with Mom
using polymer clays (a favorite hobby), helps cook dinner,
does laundry, cleans up after her hamster and still gets
to bed by 8:30. "The kids aren't rushed all the time,"
says Annie's dad Peter. "Many of our friends have to force
their kids to do the two hours of homework each night,
the kids hate the parents, and the parents end up hating
the school."
But aren't those kids better prepared for the discipline
of high school and college? Farley says that's a myth.
"Homework usually brings major family interference, there's
downloading of book reports from the Internet, there's
Daddy doing the science experiment. Who's getting discipline?
I think it's the parents." It helps her case that Farley
can point to Beacon's students' standardized-test scores,
which rank among the best in the state.