A Prescription for Peace

By Howard Gardner

The English and French met memorably on the battlefield of Agincourt. During the Civil War, the North and South shed fraternal blood at Gettysburg. For many parents and children, the encounter over homework bears the mark of a similar armed struggle: Who is in control? What weapons should be used? What are the spoils of victory, the costs of loss? And the ultimate question of warfare: What is it all for?

I've had to ponder these questions as a child psychologist, an educational reformer and a father of four. I've got the battle scars to prove it. Perhaps the chief lesson I've learned is that homework is but one chapter in the lengthy book of parenting. The tensions can be reduced if the family's approach to homework echoes the broader relationship between child and parents that has unfolded over many years. Moreover, if families see homework as an occasion for energized action rather than angry reaction, homework can become a far more productive and even enjoyable activity.

We have many desires and expectations for our children, some explicit, some tacit. I hope my children will become responsible people who meet commitments; are generous to others; and are knowledgeable about the world, their heritage, the beautiful objects and experiences of life, the discoveries of today, the challenges of tomorrow. It's important to be clear about such goals. It is equally important to lead lives that embody these goals. I can hardly expect my children to want to study, to love music, to be responsible and helpful if those around them don't model such behavior.

In short, education is not just what happens in school; it takes place at home, on the street, in the wider community and especially nowadays as a result of daily exposure to the mass media. And yet, of course, we allocate certain facets of education to schools. We expect teachers to foster the basic literacies; to convey important insights and practices from our own society; to introduce youngsters to crucial bodies of knowledge and to the ways in which scholars have approached them--the "mental habits" of the historian, the mathematician, the scientist. We hope as well that teachers will serve as role models. As the longtime East Harlem school principal Deborah Meier, now in Boston, has declared with respect to teachers and students, "We need to be their Joe DiMaggios."

Enter homework. While much education takes place from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., it's valuable for students to do additional work at home--perhaps an hour or so in the elementary years, two to three hours at the secondary level. There's so much to be mastered that most students can't do it all in school. Practice is best done in the hours after school. Some projects need the reflective periods that can't be provided in the classroom. And of course it is valuable for youngsters to learn to work on their own, to monitor their own learning, to be able to use guidance and suggestions from parents and peers.

I believe the major problem surrounding homework is that it is seen as an intrusion from outside, to which parents and children must react. Youngsters value their "out of school" time; they would rather be playing with friends or watching TV than sitting alone at a desk. Parents are afraid that unless their children do homework, they will not get into a good college or will not develop good work habits. So at the first sign that the youngster is not performing well, homework becomes the central battleground of the after-school hours.

Let's say instead that homework were seen not as an intrusion but rather as a daily occasion where major tasks and opportunities of growing up could be worked through. Homework can serve as an occasion where one acquires a sense of responsibility. We should act--not react. And let me propose a meaning for each of these three key letters:

AMPLIFICATION. Homework can amplify what one already values as a parent or child. If one wants to know more about what a tax is, or how to read a poem, or how steady practice with conjugations can allow one to be understood in a faraway country, homework provides a wonderful means to reinforce these endeavors. Homework seems less problematic in Asian societies because families and schools are already in accord on the need for home study. Indeed, when Asians move to America, parents often purchase their own copies of textbooks so they can learn along with their children.

COUNTERING. Not every aspect of homework is wondrous. Some homework is boring drill. As a parent, I tried not to criticize the homework, since that causes tension. Instead I tried to complement it by providing alternative experiences or encounters. If the school insists on having students memorize mountains of information about, say, Central Asia without giving them a sense of the place, I would bring out a book or rent a movie that brings the region to life. If the school requires a lesson on rocks, one can spend an afternoon at a science museum, or for that matter on a neighboring lot or hill.

Finally, as my work on multiple intelligences has taught me, individuals have distinctly different kinds of minds--even and sometimes especially when they are members of the same family. Unfortunately, this fact has not been seriously confronted in schools. Parents have a special responsibility when their youngsters do not learn in the traditional ways. It is up to us to find ways to help children use their kinds of minds both to understand the work of school and to exhibit their understanding to others. Suppose that the assignment is to learn about evolution by reading a chapter and answering some factual questions. The parent of a youngster with strong "naturalistic" intelligence might accompany the child to a natural-history museum and trace the antecedents of Homo sapiens. Siblings with other profiles of intelligence might benefit instead from viewing a drama about Darwin's life or creating a new form of "virtual life" on the computer.

TEACHING. Even the best schools can't teach everything. In fact, I think the best schools do not even try to cover all fronts. Rather than complaining about this, parents should try to make a virtue of necessity. We should bone up on (or remember) the knowledge we value and teach it to our children. Sometimes it will be academic subject matter, but just as often it will be a value or an attitude. Perhaps the greatest gift my mother gave me when I was young was her commitment to sit just behind me each day when I practiced the piano. She said little, though she would occasionally make a comment or suggest that we listen to a record or go to a concert. I learned to love music. Even more important, I learned that--no matter how much or how little talent one has--one can steadily improve by working regularly at something. Now every day I sit slightly behind my 13-year-old son Benjamin while he practices piano, hoping he will love music throughout his life and learn the value of systematic honing of one's skills.

I've dwelled here on my family and my values. But each family must identify its own values. Some will highlight competition, others cooperation; some will stress mastery of technology, others the cultivation of an art or craft or the achievement of athletic prowess; some will seek a curriculum that emphasizes facts and figures, others a curriculum that encourages youngsters to be creative or even iconoclastic.

We cannot all find schools that meet these goals. I urge that we view school as one of several educational experiences. And when the dreaded H word looms, we should take an active stance: amplifying when we are in agreement, countering when we feel there is a lack and teaching--always teaching--what we feel is sacred.

The Duke of Wellington is said to have observed, "The battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton." This statement reflects a recognition that teaching and learning can occur in many places and that work need not be contrasted with play. The ultimate test is whether youngsters grow up to be decent human beings and whether, when it is their turn, they can successfully transmit values and practices to their offspring. Recent talk that parents do not matter is highly misleading. We do matter, especially when it comes to inculcating discipline, respect, responsibility, core values. Perhaps we cannot turn battlegrounds into playing fields, but at least we should attempt to make work at home part of the larger tapestry of success in life.

Howard Gardner, who created the theory of multiple intelligences, is a professor at the Harvard Graduate School of Education. His forthcoming book, The Disciplined Mind, will be published in May by Simon & Schuster.