None of our kids and few of their friends have gone to school until high school (or college). Few had done �assignments.� None had taken tests or quizzes. Most had never had a project assigned. And yet, when all of these kids have entered the �hallowed halls,� they have adapted in short order, accommodated to the work load, and fallen right into the rhythm of school life. We know dozens of formerly homeschooled (or more properly called �not schooled�) kids who have headed off to secondary school (or college) having never suffered through a single of the indignities characteristic of elementary or middle school, who have thrived. These normal children (few super-star smarties, here) have attended a variety of schools, ranging from high achieving suburban stress factories to rural busy-work generators to urban neighborhood schools to private day-schools. A few have had challenging adjustment periods -- but all have succeeded. And each one has asked more than once: What on earth have these kids (their fellow schooled students) been doing all these years?!?

The fact is, Professor Cooper is just plain wrong. For young children, homework and school don�t teach that �all environments are learning ones.� They teach that all environments are schooling ones. This is an important distinction. Schooling devalues direct, continuously innovative experience in favor of structured, assigned activity. What kids learn from homework is that conformity and routinized production are sacrosanct �and that personal initiative, direct experience, and vernacular life are worthless � precisely because they are not assigned or �school.�

And children do not develop �study habits� by being loaded with assignments. They develop avoidance habits or, perhaps more insidious, a sad, production-oriented obsequiousness. Studying is a skill, very quickly learned when needed. Oppositional avoidance and production-oriented obsequiousness are acquired over time and infect our psyches for a lifetime. That schools accomplish this, while simultaneously driving the spirit of community, independence, and love of learning from our children, is partly attributable to supplanting our younger children�s out-of-school vernacular life with homework.

See this site for a believable explaination.

http://www.stevespanglerscience.com/experiment/00000109

I am not a fan of homework -- but neither am I a fan of sloppy research and interviewing. Inquiring minds want to know: what is the basis for Ms. Kalish's homework formula? What courses of study benefit from homework? Just how does homework relate to academic performance? How much time do the Japanese spend in study (homework notwithstanding)?

I began reading Rebecca Traister’s interview with great anticipation. I want substance about this issue, not bromides. But here all we got was mushy statements about “love of learning” and red-herings about penne palaces. While I think that the author is correct that homework is (among many other factors) overwhelming education, there is little in her interview that would help me win an argument in a school board meeting.

Finally, statements such as “But no parent should be in the position of having to teach their kids math” are just plain embarrassing. First, if M. Kalish had done her homework, she would have attended to her number agreement between pronoun and referent. Secondly, if parents imagine that they are not in “the position of having to teach their kids math” they must not feel math is work counting on.

Gee. I like Christmas -- except for the Christ part. The materialism, implied proselytization, incessant marketing, heated populist rhetoric, and the economic forecasts -- these are quintessentially American. But Jesus? Give me a break. If I hear one more un-American rant about peace and loving one's neighbor, and welcoming the stranger, and caring for the least among us, I think I'll advocate for going to war against some other infidel nation.

Seriously, Garrison is correct that the three Cs are a source of great joy and comfort. HE will have to excuse those of us for whom the fantastical religious iconography -- white winged angels, virgin births, and the like -- just rings hollow and a bit evangelically fanatical. The music is beautiful. The love and warmth palpable. But the words and images are downright phantasmagorical and illiberal.

My mother-in-law feels that quantity trumps quality. Her wrap-til-you-drop ideology rarely extends to items that one would acually use. Size is no litmus test for clothing gifts. Nor is color, style or utility.

After all the emotional energy she puts into her Christmas frenzy, however, she is gracious about "returns." "If it doesn't fit, I'll take it back for you and get you the right size." Blessedly, she rarely follows through and no exchange mis-fit, odd colored replacement is in the offing at Easter.

However, one can usually count on the offending article of clothing showing up in yours or someone else's pile the *next* CHristmas. Or the next. And the next. Remember, it's not the thought that counts. It's the quantity.

Who is to say what are "personal defects" and what are not? According to Ms. Wilson's article, being "Famous for being famous ...," "Former stripper ..." or a "Playboy playmate ..." fall into that category. While I might personally disapprove of living such a life, Ms. Smith apparently had no problem with her choices. A pundit who would refer to Cintra Wilson as a "Salon reporter" would be not more guilty of sniggering than one who refers to Anna Nicole Smith as a "playboy playmate."

Obviously, what is worthy of both sniggering and labeling a personal defect is our obsession with celebrity. What level of social decline leaves a people more interested in Anna Nicole Smith, and OJ Simpson than Vaslav Havel or Las Madres de Plaza de Mayo?

Gosh! I never heard the clock ticking quite like Ms. Lipkin implies I should have. Here I am past 50, past my prime and I didn't even know it until reading it in Salon. I am afraid what the author is looking for is not just an agemate, but someone as immature as she. I sure am glad that those who I share life's passages with love me for more than just my good looks.