I recently posted a fairly innocent Facebook status update about how I felt learning that my 5th grade son received a 2 (out of 4) on a Service-Learning project, and I must admit, I was surprised at some of the responses I got. In fact, I pulled the entire thread because I felt the discussion was mostly missing the ENTIRE POINT and was becoming bogged down in defense of teachers (and not children) and with instructions for dealing with my upset. Do not go in there with guns blazing! I was warned. The teacher must have had a rubric—ask to see it, another person said. His poster should have counted for no more than a third of his grade, still another person said. Ugh. My head hurt and I did not want to read it anymore. Childish of me? Perhaps, but friends, I promise you, I have never gone off half-cocked on an educator. I used to BE one for god’s sake. It’s hard, thankless work! But as far as the rubric goes—I’m sure there was one, but it is a moot point because the point I was making was this: GET RID OF IT! Service-Learning is a lovely idea, but in practice, it can be sucky if you aren’t very careful! Because the minute you attach a grade to it and encourage kids to compare and compete and judge, you have completely missed the point and taken a class full of young people with you! If an 11-year-old plans and executes a service-learning project and pretty much walks away feeling like a failure, whose failure IS it? Service is LOVE. Service is a GIFT. It is FREE. It knows no VALUE for the cause you are serving NEEDS people to CARE for it. You can no more grade service than you grade feelings. And it is a very lonely person who goes around grading the LOVE and GIFTS in their lives.
The assignment was for students to assess a need in their community, plan and execute a way to impact that need, and present a poster to the class about it. Sounds kind of awesome, right? Well, maybe it had stopped there, but there was more. Students were additionally tasked with going “above and beyond.” He told me his teacher really wanted him to get out of his “comfort zone” with this project. Am I wrong in assuming that each child’s “comfort zone” is different? For my son, this entire project was out of his “comfort zone” but whatever. He knew he wanted to help animals, and I helped him narrow his plan to something that could be accomplished given our demanding work schedules. He collected and redeemed bottles for cash, Dad and I matched his funds with a donation, and then we took him shopping for items from the local Humane Society’s Wish List. He chose dog food, laundry detergent, dish detergent, towels, and cat litter. His poster wasn’t perfect, but it was HIS.
Now, I think our family is pretty service oriented. We give every Christmas and sometimes in between if we have the money, I volunteer a lot, and his Dad is a soldier. This kid made the ultimate service oriented sacrifice when his father got shipped to a warzone before he even knew what philanthropy was (which his teacher was aware of, but I digress). When I asked him why he thought got a 2, he said it was because he hadn’t gone “above and beyond.” I asked what he would have had to do to get a 4, and he kept talking about “comfort zones” and “above and beyond.” I asked about some of the other kids projects—what did a 4 look like? He did not know other than they had nice craft paper backings on their poster photos, and their posters were nice. Some of them went “above and beyond” by volunteering at the food bank or wherever. And I thought is more value being placed on volunteering or on pretty posters? I honestly have no idea, and I’m not sure I even care. Because I’m exhausted with frustration and sadness. And I would like to get back to being a nice, happy person. All I DO know is this: when a child spends his own time and treasure giving and loving his community, how do you then attach a substandard grade to it because another child was more excited about the project? More eloquent talking about it? Donated time instead of treasure? Or perhaps made a more visually appealing poster?
It’s sad is what it is. I am angry, yes, because I am a mother. It is my job to guide my son’s heart and teach him values. My son loves like no one you have met! He is an incredible empath. I am SO grief-stricken that he put his time and heart into something lovely and had to walk away feeling that it wasn’t good enough. (For telling an empath not to take such things personally is pointless, my friends, an empath IS the love he gives. When you degrade that, you degrade him. He will feel it really deeply and that can’t be helped.) I am sad that when he walked away from this project where he cared for animals, that his final thought was that he should have spent more money at AC Moore on craft supplies for his poster. I’m sorry that he thinks he should have volunteered at the soup kitchen, like so-and-so who got a 4, and then he would have done well and had the approval and respect of his teacher.
To my son’s teacher, I know you meant well, and you may have had a rubric, and bless you, but I hope you learn from this: he did not really earn a 2. You did. What you taught him was that service is about tooting his own horn. You taught him that his gifts don’t matter unless they are prettily wrapped in fine paper with expensive-looking ribbons. You taught him that service doesn’t feel good in his heart if his teacher doesn’t like it.
And now, I am going to go love and serve my family. I’m going to teach my son that it feels better to give without expectation of getting applause or a grade. The best payoff may be a thank you that you never hear, a smile that you never see, and a hug given to someone ELSE. I am going to teach him that you do NOT have to get out of your comfort zone to be a philanthropist. You can give a million ways, right in your own living room to your family—because where would we be if we didn’t have each other? Raising a healthy family is the ultimate service.
For the record, the Humane Society was so very grateful. Someone else made a large Wish List donation the same day and they were overcome with happiness. And I think seeing that and patting the kitties helped my boy realize that his efforts were not wasted. We just may do it again!
