There is no way to tell everyone on the first day of school - or even the first few days - everything they need to know about “operating” the classroom. I pick the most basic things, managing supplies, using the hall pass, getting lunch, knowing what to do when you come in the room, what to do when you finish your work, how to politely get my attention…and I work on putting those procedures in place right away. The more the kids learn to do on their own, without my direction, the more time I have, and the better they use their time.

Most of last week, the first week, was spent in error mode. I try to keep my explanations short and to the point. I say a few introductory things, and then move in to some easy activity. Invariably, something happens to interrupt the flow, and we have to stop and have a “mini-lesson” on how a particular micro-process should work. We don’t get a lot of schoolwork done early on, but I expect that. The fourth-graders have to listen to me tell them that they’re intermediate level students now, and…and…I’m glad I don’t have to listen to myself.

Last Friday morning, when the first homework assignment was due, the excuse machine was on overload and was in danger of overheating. When a student told me, “You forgot to tell us to take our math book home, and….” I stopped her in mid-defense.

“No, no, no. My ears are hurting!” I told her and the 5 or 6 woeful little faces standing near me. “Stop now. This is too sad for me to listen to anymore.”

This was No-Excuses-Friday. I stood in front of the class and let them know that I could not help anything that happens away from school, and that I’d heard too many reasons why something didn’t get done. “Better,” I said, “if you tell me when you’ll have it here.”

I decided to institute a Homework Policy that parents would sign. I plan to hold noncompliant students in from recess until they notify their parents, or satisfy the deficiency. This, of course, destroys my lunch period. But I have few options other than ignoring the whole issue and letting the slackers off the hook. I’ve tried that, and what happens is that parents yell when they see the report card. My hope is that if I am firm in the beginning, I will not have trouble later. But who am I kidding?

When I started composing my policy notice, I went online looking for research findings that would justify my expectations that students do their homework. As we all know, if we can say, “Research shows that…” people will be more likely to believe us. I discovered that there is little current research showing a benefit to homework in elementary school. My experience reflects much of what Alfie Kohn has to say about the Homework Myth.

I wish I didn’t have to assign it, grade it, or monitor student/parent compliance. Most homework is a waste of time and a headache from start to finish. The homework that I do understand is the classwork that needs a little more time, or gives parents more information about what their kids are doing in class. Like it or not, it’s part of the culture of school.

The beginning of the academic year is about establishing norms for participation in the classroom. This year I’m keeping track of as much of the social learning and teaching as I can. That’s the stuff that gets taken for granted later on. I want to have the kids generate a Classroom Operating Manual on a wiki. A student ethnography project like that will be a great introductory writing venture for us.