ASKING for Homework

I am beaming. 

Or should I say, still beaming. 

Tanzanian children do not get homework.  #1: They do a LOT more work in school each day than American children – trust me and #2:They have a massive amount of responsibilities when they get home (fetch water, sweep the compound, cook dinner, hand wash clothes, tend to the goats/chickens/etc).  As an educator who is an avid supporter of (an appropriate amount of) homework in the States, I do not take issue with the absence of homework here in Tanzania. 

However, two days ago, Tuesday, two sweet girls from P4 came up to me, very shyly, and asked: Madam, can we please have some math homework?  As they asked, they each held out exercise books, again timidly, for me to take and write homework for them. I was equally surprised and proud of them, as exercise books are quite expensive for children to purchase – so expensive that Stella Maris provides exercise books for our students as many children would not be able to afford them otherwise.  Before Stella Maris, as a school community, decided to purchase exercise books for each child, one communal exercise book was passed around a classroom so that children could have a turn at ‘practicing’ the skill of the day – as the other children silently waited for their turn. 

I stood, under the unrelenting afternoon sun, in the middle of the school grounds, beaming at these two girls, both of whom have been slightly struggling with math the past few weeks.  They took the initiative not only to ask for homework, but also made a rather large sacrifice to get the needed materials.  Of course, I willingly agreed and at my next available moment, I wrote down a few problems in each of their exercise books that mirrored those we did in class.  At the end of the day, both girls politely approached me to inquire about their exercise books and excitedly took them back from me and then hurried along to their homes.

That alone would have been enough to make me beam and plaster a big smile on my face for the rest of the day.

That was just the beginning.

Yesterday, first thing in the morning, both girls brought back their exercise books, completed of course, with varying degrees of accuracy.  I smiled as I took the books, and continued on with my morning routine.  I had a chance to grade their homework and prepare a few more aligned-to-the day’s-lesson problems before P4 math.  I took the exercise books with me to class, prepared to return them to their owners at the end of class.  After my introduction of the new material and a few practice problems, I sent the lovely P4 scholars off to complete some problems on their own.  After a few minutes of silent work, a line of students formed at my desk.  Confused and almost ready to launch into a lecture about raising hands before we get up (we’re working on it – it is not the most important battle to me to fight, so I have not yet really put my foot down on this one, and actually may not ever), I noticed that each student had something in their hand.  I signaled to permit the first student in line to approach me and as he hands me an exercise book, he says: Please, madam, may you write some math homework for me to do? I look down the line of ten or so children and realize they all are waiting to ask me the same question. 

Just BEAMING, I tell you.

At the end of class, I took my now rather large pile of math homework exercise books back to the teacher’s work room, reflecting as I walked, thinking to myself: Children nearly begging for homework.  Never thought I’d see the day.  Actually, that last sentence is not entirely true, as I have had the privilege to meet lots of hard working children during my first five years in education, but you get the gist.  Children who would choose to sacrifice a month’s worth of candy in order to be able to volunteer to do homework.  Priceless.

And to finish off this homework-development “turkey”, hope there are a few bowlers out there that get this reference, today, when I thought I had recovered from the surprise and delight of recent homework inquisitions, I found myself humbled yet again.  Somehow in the last 48 hours, the Madam-Jesca-will-give-you-homework-if-you-bring-her-an-exercise-book rumor spread like wildfire to P5, to whom I teach both English and math.  So today, a handful of my P5 babies could not wait to ask if I would give them some English homework.  Not only did they ask, but they anxiously awaited my response, as if there was a real possibility I would deny their request.

In a school that does not give homework, I spent over an hour today writing homework for my P4 and P5 overachievers, and I mean that in the most sincere, loving and proud way possible.  It should not have been the most enjoyable hour, rewriting the SAME ten P4 math problems twelve times and the SAME ten P5 English problems seven times, but I was still basking in the glory of knowing how much these kids care about their education and their ability to be successful in school.

That, I’d say, is worth the hand cramp.