Shortly before his preschool was canceled indefinitely, my five-year-old son contracted from a classmate a brain disease known as Pokémon. Transmitted virally, it affects mostly the young, though not exclusively. Symptoms include a profusion of yellow trading cards, vocalized yelps that can sound like “Pika! Pika!” or “Char! Char!” and a manic obsession with the moves and hit points of imaginary creatures who are constantly battling each other for no evident reason.
Like many dutiful parents suddenly faced with the prospect of homeschooling small children through the coronavirus lockdown, my spouse and I started out with high-minded notions of the…
When I broke the news to my nine-year old daughter that we were going to be doing remote learning for the foreseeable future, she was horrified. “We’re going to have to do work while all this other crazy stuff is happening?” she asked incredulously. You’re telling me, kid.
It’s past time to call it: The school year is over. There is no real substitute for in-classroom learning. For kids who are in elementary grades, especially, continuing on as if they’re going to retain lessons under these circumstances is ridiculous.
“I just want to cry,” I told my wife on Friday morning.
I had just gotten off a work call and my brain was ticking through follow-up items, adding to a long list of untouched to-dos. My wife, meanwhile, was multitasking an onslaught of work questions while also trying to manage “homeschool” time with our son — but he refused to participate. Instead, he huddled in an increasingly secure couch fort, refusing to do anything — color, read, go outside, talk to his teacher — besides sit in silence in the dark or watch his iPad. …
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