"Do Your Homework"
“Do your homework”. That sentence was one that I heard almost daily while going through school. It’s ingrained into my mind because I hated homework, and didn’t do it. I just couldn’t stand the idea of going to school for 6-7 hours only to do more school for another 1-2 hours at home. Any opportunity I was given to not do homework, I took. One particular instance was when I was taking geometry class. My teacher had told us in the beginning of the school year that she would not be requiring us to do the homework. I was filled with boundless joy the rest of the day, even though she sent it with us so we could practice if we wanted to. I, of course, didn’t do any of it. This went on for almost the entire school year, and I was loving it. Whenever my mom told me
“Do your homework”,
I would always respond with
“I already did”
because I would have done my other classes homework at school.
All of this came to an end near the last few months of 10th grade. Because I hadn’t been doing the homework, I was not fully understanding the things that were being taught, and it showed. I never got above a C on my tests or quizzes, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t really interested in learning any math past the basics unless I needed to for my future job. I believe other students in the class did the same thing, because my teacher eventually implemented a homework check. This homework check was a simple question that we all had to answer in the beginning of class. The catch was that the question was on the homework, so the kids who did it answered quickly and easily. I on the other hand struggled and I hated it. Every day, I would feel myself becoming more and more anxious as geometry class came closer.
When I began to fail geometry class, my mother finally caught on to my scheme. She was furious and demanded I go back and complete all the homework assignments I skipped. I was in shambles as I painstakingly went through each assignment and did them. What was probably only a day or two of this felt as if it was an entire week of hell and tears. When I had finally completed all the assignments, I was told to go to my teacher and turn them in. I thought it was pointless because the semester was practically over, and she wasn’t going to accept them. To my surprise though, my teacher not only accepted the massively late assignment, but also didn’t fail me for the semester. I was in total shock and disbelief, I didn’t know my teacher could do that. I asked her why she was still going to grade the assignments. She looked at me with a calm face and said
“I am still going to grade these papers because I know you understand what is going on, and I know you can do the work if you really wanted to.”
I don’t know if she said that to make me feel better about myself, or if she actually meant it. All I know is that I took homework more seriously, especially when it came to math.
“Do your homework”. That sentence was one that I heard almost daily while going through school. It’s ingrained into my mind because I hated homework, and didn’t do it. I just couldn’t stand the idea of going to school for 6-7 hours only to do more school for another 1-2 hours at home. Any opportunity I was given to not do homework, I took. One particular instance was when I was taking geometry class. My teacher had told us in the beginning of the school year that she would not be requiring us to do the homework. I was filled with boundless joy the rest of the day, even though she sent it with us so we could practice if we wanted to. I, of course, didn’t do any of it. This went on for almost the entire school year, and I was loving it. Whenever my mom told me
“Do your homework”,
I would always respond with
“I already did”
because I would have done my other classes homework at school.
All of this came to an end near the last few months of 10th grade. Because I hadn’t been doing the homework, I was not fully understanding the things that were being taught, and it showed. I never got above a C on my tests or quizzes, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t really interested in learning any math past the basics unless I needed to for my future job. I believe other students in the class did the same thing, because my teacher eventually implemented a homework check. This homework check was a simple question that we all had to answer in the beginning of class. The catch was that the question was on the homework, so the kids who did it answered quickly and easily. I on the other hand struggled and I hated it. Every day, I would feel myself becoming more and more anxious as geometry class came closer.
When I began to fail geometry class, my mother finally caught on to my scheme. She was furious and demanded I go back and complete all the homework assignments I skipped. I was in shambles as I painstakingly went through each assignment and did them. What was probably only a day or two of this felt as if it was an entire week of hell and tears. When I had finally completed all the assignments, I was told to go to my teacher and turn them in. I thought it was pointless because the semester was practically over, and she wasn’t going to accept them. To my surprise though, my teacher not only accepted the massively late assignment, but also didn’t fail me for the semester. I was in total shock and disbelief, I didn’t know my teacher could do that. I asked her why she was still going to grade the assignments. She looked at me with a calm face and said
“I am still going to grade these papers because I know you understand what is going on, and I know you can do the work if you really wanted to.”
I don’t know if she said that to make me feel better about myself, or if she actually meant it. All I know is that I took homework more seriously, especially when it came to math.