Defining Parental Involvement

Posted on March 29, 2012 by April McCaffery

I’ve struggled with the term “parental involvement” for years. My girls are currently in 6th and 9th grade, and every year, I have to ask myself that question again (and again).

Like every other parent, I’ve heard ad nausea how integral parental involvement is in our children’s education. But it’s rare that anyone actually tells us what that means.

As a single, working mom, I’ve never been able to sign up to help in the classroom or at lunch. Every so often, I see the girls’ schools in the light of day, but usually, I can’t tell you what time their school lets out because I pick them up from their after-school programs.

When they were in K-4th grades, I took parental involvement to mean standing over them while they get their homework done. That wasn’t always pleasant. I remember one particularly bad night with both me and my 3rd grader in tears because I wasn’t explaining the math problem in the same way as her teacher. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t in tears, but pretty darn close. That was the breaking point for me. I decided I wasn’t qualified to be a teacher’s assistant and if they truly didn’t understand their assignment, then we would notify their teacher.

After hanging up my homework enforcer hat, I decided that parental involvement would mean parental activism. I blogged about education for various sites, I wrote School Board supervisors, teachers, elected officials, and I read every article about education that I came across. In the meantime, I kept it local by joining the PTA board at one of my daughter’s schools, and attending almost every meeting for three years.

This year, as both of the girls were starting new schools, I decided to let them stand for themselves for the first year and didn’t volunteer myself for any parental board.

My daughter’s first year of high school hasn’t been easy for her. I’m on the road 3 hours a day getting them to and from school, 9 hours at work, and just constantly feel like I’m playing catch-up. When I tried to be the homework enforcer again, the results were just as effective as they had been in third grade. Not to mention, she’s 14 now and our relationship has a LOT of ups and downs.

I figured out that between the three of us, we have 21 classes (I’m back in school part-time myself). So I sat the girls down and spelled out my dos and don’ts in terms of my parental involvement:

I will buy the necessary supplies. Tell me in advance, and you will have everything you need for your project. I will not, however, do the project for you.
I will sign anything you need signed. I will, however, read it all and make sure we both understand it before I do.
I will wake you in plenty of time to get ready, and give you the countdowns (“30 minutes”, “15 minutes” and “5 minutes”). I will get you to school on time. I will make sure you have adequate after-school care.
I will proofread your essays, I will check your answers, I will quiz you for your upcoming test, and I will make the computer available (complete with ink and paper) for any assignment. I will not, however, stand over you and play “homework enforcer.” You have the space, the things and the time. Anything else you need, you have to ask.
I will not run back home and bring you something you forgot that you need for school…particularly if we’re 5 minutes away from your school and 45 minutes away from home. It is your responsibility to make sure you have everything you need. (I highly recommend having everything ready to go the night before, and suggest posting your schedule somewhere so that in the morning, you can double-check.)
I will not grant permission for you to spend time with your friends if you’re missing homework assignments. If you have time to go out with your friends, you have time to complete the homework.
I will advocate on your behalf, but only if you’ve made a genuine effort.

I finally figured it out. Parental involvement means whatever I feel is best for me and my family.

My list may not match your list, but it is what I can realistically do for my kids.

When she’s not at work, in school, on the road or making dinner, April McCaffery can sometimes be found at her blog, It’s All About Balance.

LAUSD Parents: Join the Homework Policy Discussion

Posted on February 24, 2012 by April McCaffery

LAUSD has announced that they will be reviewing the homework policy. Superintendent John Deasy has said he wants to hear from parents, so here’s your chance!

Take this survey that will be presented to the Superintendent of Instruction. It’s short, but there are plenty of opportunities to add your unique experiences and opinions.

Between my two daughters (in middle school and high school), they have 17 classes. I spend three hours on the road every day getting the girls to and from school and work, and my oldest daughter is usually up well past my bedtime still doing homework.

I think some homework is helpful, but I can’t possibly keep up with all their assignments. I’m a single parent with a full-time job and I’m also a part-time student myself. I value education, but I also value taking my daughters to the theatre and spending time with friends and family and yes, even just hanging out sometimes, too.

So what’s your homework story?

April McCaffery is the single mom to two daughters.

A Christmas Tradition Come to Life

Posted on December 6, 2011 by April McCaffery

I had the opportunity to take my daughters to see A Christmas Carol at the Glendale Centre Theatre, and would highly recommend making this a family tradition.

We all know the story, but it’s beautiful to see it come to life in the intimate setting that Glendale Centre Theatre provides. The experience starts with offerings like hot apple cider and holiday fare that you can take in the theatre with you. The theatre itself is in the round, and Tim Deitlein’s direction allows for good seats almost anywhere.

The cast’s energy moves the story along at a brisk, solid pace, with pauses only for some beautifully sung carols. Many of the performers are coming back to the show (GCT’s annual holiday production), and their ease with the material makes for a cozy evening with a familiar friend.

Mario DiGregorio’s Scrooge was played with depth from the start. A curmudgeon, of course, but more pragmatic than heartless, which brings credibility to the character’s evolution. Tosca Minotto’s Mrs. Cratchit is also a stand-out performance, Jaymes Dietlein brings exactly the right amount of sweetness to the role of Tiny Tim.

I took a few moments to see how the younger children in the audience were faring, and all were caught up in the happenings around them. I was delighted to see so many families making the theatre part of their holiday celebration.

Consider adding GCT’s A Christmas Carol to your family’s holiday calendar. It plays through Christmas Eve, and tickets are available on GCT’s website.

I also wanted to mention Lindsay Day, a friend and stand-out Narrator/Singer in the show, but didn’t want anyone to think it was merely because she comped us. She did not do so to get a good review, or even to be mentioned since I didn’t decide to write this until after seeing the show. Still, in the interest of FCC and all, I felt the need to disclose. And to add that all opinions expressed are my own.

April McCaffery is the single mom to two daughters (all three theatre-lovers).

Control…and our lack thereof

Posted on November 8, 2011 by April McCaffery

Right now, I’m all about celebrating not having little kids anymore. In that vein, here are a few things I eventually learned to accept about the early years of motherhood. I know we all take our jobs very seriously in terms of doing the “right things” as parents and making sure that our kids have everything they need, but sometimes, we want more control than we can actually have over any human being:

We can’t make anyone sleep. We can say that it’s time for bed. We can create bedtime rituals, and make sure the room is dark (but not too dark), but we cannot actually force (or induce) sleep into someone else. You’re not a failure as a parent if your child takes a while to get to sleep. You’re just a very tired parent.

We can’t make anyone eat anything. We can make sure they don’t eat certain things, we can keep our cabinets full of food that we find acceptable, and we can try blending or new recipes to make foods more appealing, but we cannot actually force anyone to swallow and/or like it. Children sense very quickly what kind of control they have over their own lives and often use mealtime to exercise a little independence. There are any number of ways to encourage a child to try something they claim they don’t want to eat, but what I found was that the more I’d get worked up about it, the more stubborn they’d become. Sure enough, the less attention I paid to it, the less of an issue it became. As they continue to grow and develop, their taste buds do, too.

We can’t make them use the toilet. We can encourage and praise, we can remind them and even insist that they try, but every child will get potty trained eventually. I was awful at it with my oldest child. My younger daughter pretty much potty trained herself! Still, with both of them, this hasn’t been an issue for many, many years, and yet, I remember stressing about it with my older daughter like the day would never come! This, too, shall pass.

We can’t speed up time. I’ve seen both of my children develop at their own pace. My youngest was slow to start talking, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t speak her mind now. My oldest was slow to crawl, but it didn’t stop her from becoming a gorgeous dancer. I remember just two years ago being worried about their sloppy writing and both of them now have beautiful penmanship. Most things that I stressed over are no longer issues. (Which is not to say that I’m not stressing about things now, but I try to keep it in perspective.)

We can’t slow time down. It wasn’t that long ago that my friend told me that this time of having toddlers would go so fast. I questioned her on that, and next thing I knew, it was true. They’re in middle school and high school.

I can’t make you stop worrying, I can’t even make myself stop worrying, but every so often, we can try and take that step back to see how far we’ve come and admire the wonderful jobs we’ve done so far.

No matter what happens, we will always be moms, and our children will forever be in our hearts. Nothing can take that away from any of us.

April McCaffery is the single mom to two daughters, in 6th and 9th grade.

Parenting for Parenting’s Sake

Posted on September 20, 2011 by April McCaffery

So many posts are written about motherhood struggles. We fear we’re becoming helicopter parents. We fear being perceived as uninvolved parents. We fear being known as that mom.

Recently, I was put in a position where I had my opinion on what I thought was right for my daughter, and yet still needed validation that my decision wouldn’t be perceived as me being that mom who said “no.” I said no because I truly believed that it wasn’t in the best interest of my daughter. But it took me 3 days and too many words in my email where I tried to decline as politely as possible.

As a single mother, I feel particularly vulnerable to the types of labels that others may put on my mothering skills. But over the years, I think I’ve finally come to accept me as the type of mother I am.

I hover sometimes, sometimes I back off completely. I am strict on some things, and completely laid back on others. While I’m sure some think they’ve got me all figured out in terms of what kind of mother I am, I am almost positive that they’re wrong.

And just saying that may have some label me as “inconsistent.” Others might correctly assume that I’m a mother who chooses to pick my battles.

Every day, there are a million little decisions to be made. Do I remind my teenage daughter that her homework is still on the table, or do I let her forget it? I try to assess which consequence will be most effective.

If I repeat myself enough times, will my voice soon be ingrained in the back of her head to double-check before we go? Will she learn from getting points deduced for not bringing it today? Or could she use a little moral support today because she’s frazzled?

I won’t make the same decision every day because the extenuating circumstances matter. I will remind my 10-year-old more often than I will remind my teenager because she’s simply not as mature.

Schools are probably the most intimidating place for me as a parent. I’m sure some teachers and administrators that have gotten one (or 10) too many emails from me think I’m going to be that mom that insists on accompanying my child to their first day of college. Totally not the case; I’m simply trying to do everything I can to prepare them as much as possible for that day. Other teachers might see me as completely uninvolved; they don’t realize that in those cases, I’m generally too uninspired to even try.

They (yes, the collective they) might not appreciate how much I’ve agonized over each decision. How many emails I’ve written to friends, how many times I’ve cornered those I trust and discussed the issue ad nauseum, how often I’ve turned the issue over and over in my head as I’m driving. That’s me most of the time. Except when it’s the other times; when I’ve had to make a split-second decision at 6:30 in the a.m., and just go with my gut.

I’m no parenting expert, even after doing this for nearly 14 years. As the girls grow and I try and assess how each moment will affect who they are for the rest of their lives, I’ve come to one conclusion. I can only do the best that I can. I will make mistakes. I will err to one side, and then back again. I will keep trying to take that step back and gain some perspective.

What I will stop, however, is trying to parent out of fear of what others might think. Some will be right, some will be wrong, but only time will tell if I’ve accomplished my personal goal of raising two productive, capable adults.

April McCaffery is the single mom to two daughters, in 6th & 9th grade.

13: the Most Special Age of All

Posted on September 6, 2011 by April McCaffery

Parenting After Diapers: This post is part of a series about what it’s like to parent children from middle school to adulthood.

I’d had another “moment” with my 13-year-old daughter when my 10-year-old daughter told me something extraordinary. She’d read in her 6th grade English class that 13-year-olds aren’t just 13, they’re also 1, 2, 3….all the way up to 11, 12 and 13 all at once. What she read said that 13 was the only age that behaved in quite this way. I’ve asked her to get me a copy of this whole work.

My oldest only has less than 2 months of being 13, but I hope to have the information handy when my 10-year-old reaches this special age.

I don’t have anything but my own anecdotal experience to say it must be true. I see glimpses of who she was in younger years and who she will become years from now with my teenager. She can be as wrapped up in her own id as she was as a two-year-old, and she can want to share things with me that remind me of when she used to greet me with a hug and kiss in her younger school days. She can have moments where she loves playing with her younger sister, and moments where all she wants to do is be with her friends.

I often compare these last few years of motherhood as psychological whiplash. One minute, I’m talking to her about abstract ideas and complex theories, and the next I’m shocked and surprised that she still doesn’t remember to throw the remains of her lunch in the trash!

I think I know, though, how most mothers (including my own) have survived having teenage daughters. As impossible as they can be at times, they can still make your day with just the little things. A kiss and hug goodnight, a particularly witty remark, an open and honest (and respectful!) conversation. If 13 is the year you get all the years you’ve had, it’s a year full of being wanted and not, being needed and not, and practically never being bored.

What will 14 be? I don’t know, but I highly doubt it will be boring, either!

April McCaffery is the single mother to two daughters.

Most Needed Back to School Supply: Patience

Posted on August 23, 2011 by April McCaffery

Photo: Stock Xchng/mrsmas

Parenting After Diapers: This post is the first in a series about what it’s like to parent children from middle school to adulthood.

On the eve of my daughter’s first day of middle school as she was preparing her backpack, she commented, “wow, I’m going to middle school and Sylvia [her sister] is starting high school! We’re really growing up, aren’t we?” You certainly are.

My preparation for their entry into middle school and high school was different than previous years. We’re all already enthused, so no need to play cheerleader. Some things were the same, of course: getting the backpacks, the paper, the pencils. I’ve always let them (reasonably) choose their supplies. They knew to have everything ready the night before school started. Experience has made some of it easier for all of us.

The preparation that I most needed was peace and relaxation.

The girls had an opportunity to take vacations with their grandparents and other family members, and I decided to take time off work, too. I used that time to do as little as possible.

The girls are old enough that I knew a few days away from each other is not the end of the world. They have their phones and can call or text me anytime, and I know they’re with people that love them dearly. I have no angst when they’re gone. I can enjoy it for all that it is.

And a funny thing happened while they were gone. My patience bucket was fully replenished. When they came back home, I was able to not take things personally when they got anxious or overreacted. I know they’re about to start something new, so I could remain completely calm as we got through the rough moments.

When they were ready, they could openly discuss their sadness of the schools and friends they’re leaving behind. They are losing something. They can be sad about it without taking away any of the excitement they have about their new journeys.

The first week of school has been mostly excitement and happiness, but all that adrenaline can make them crash every so often. And yeah, I’ve had my moments as well, but having had the chance to clear my head has definitely helped me prepare in the most important way possible for the start of school.

The most important supply I need for surviving back to school is loads and loads of patience. And a little empathy goes a long way.

April McCaffery is the single parent to two daughters.

Let ‘em Slide

Posted on July 5, 2011 by April McCaffery

Every summer, parents get bombarded with summer reading lists and homework packets; sometimes mandatory, sometimes recommended. We’re told it’s imperative that our children continue the schoolwork outside of school because students lose about two months’ worth of learning over the summer. And no one is talking about the elephant in the room.

This is what happens when we teach to the test. This is the message our children receive when most lesson plans are over as soon as standardized testing is over. And it is the true “test” of our education system.

One of the most haunting quotes in Race to Nowhere was the student that exclaimed after taking her AP French exam, “I never have to speak French again!”

We lecture on the importance of drilling vocabulary words and math equations, but students’ only sense of what it all means is in connection with grades and college entrance applications. We rationalize it by believing that the higher education system will teach critical thinking and how education translates to the real world. And we imply that parents that don’t play along are uninvolved, and don’t care enough about their children’s education.

I care so much about my daughters’ education that the last thing I want them to do is worksheets. I want them to be in the kitchen with me, learning about fractions by helping me with a recipe. I want them to pick up a book that they want to read, and ask them about it so they can summarize it in their own words. I want them to have the freedom to be left to their own imagination, and ask me whatever crazy questions come into their head so that I can assist them in how they can research the answers for themselves.

I want them to see for themselves what they’ve learned by using it in real life. I want them to feel the satisfaction and pride of figuring something out; a reward that’s usually more gratifying than any test score. I want them to be motivated to learn because they see the results in having more intellectually stimulating conversations with adults. I want them to love learning because it makes for a more fulfilling life.

My oldest was assigned three books to read over the summer, but thankfully, she’s enjoying them, and I’m not having to hover to make sure she reads them in time. My youngest daughter has been left to her own imagination, and she’s been reading, making up math games, and writing in her journal.

They might slide, but if they have a greater appreciation of the value in learning, their upwards swing might be a greater understanding that stays with them long after they put their number two pencils down.

April McCaffery is the single mother to two daughters, going into 6th & 9th grade.

Balancing the Hype

Posted on March 21, 2011 by April McCaffery

The biggest trap I need to avoid as an LA parent is buying into the hype.

People in LA are always hyping “the next big” something; the next big movie hit, the next big restaurant, bar, etc. Parenting, I’m finding, also has the “next big” crisis. Bullying and food are the current “big” topics in parenting.

Now, they’re both real problems, to be sure. I think bullying has been around for longer than we’d like to believe, but people weren’t talking about it as much. I think it’s good that we’re talking about it, but there are dangers as well in zero tolerance policies, and turning children into criminals. Kids are not little adults, after all. Part of their developmental growth is in making mistakes. Of course, one child should never be allowed to hurt another, but we also have to take care to make sure that children who have made mistakes are given the chance to learn and grow from them, and not have to wear a capital “B” on their chest for the rest of their lives.

Food is also a real issue. We all know the obesity levels are totally out of control, and it’s worthwhile to let the food industry know that we want real food.

Where I got myself into trouble with my children is in assuming a national problem was theirs. My oldest daughter dances nearly every day. In school, the most limited activity she has in P.E. is running a mile every day. She’s fine. She’s in great shape. My youngest daughter is also completely within the healthy percentile in weight.

But I admit, I got sucked in. I started to feel guilty and see words from blog posts in my head whenever I gave them a Goldfish cracker or let them eat carbs. To the point where my neurosis was giving them anxiety. My oldest daughter began wondering if my “no” to food requests were because she looked fat.

At that point, my own brain started to kick in again. I remembered my own motto: “It’s All About Balance.” The truth is, they are not starving, nor are they anywhere near obese. They are just as likely to ask for a banana as a Girl Scout cookie. The only possibility of them getting a food complex is if I gave them one. Enough.

For the most part, I’m proud to stay out of LA trends. I dress the way I dress, I don’t change my hairstyle according to any magazine, and no matter what any movie says, I still enjoy Merlot!

We’re going back to balance. The girls still have organic snacks in their lunchboxes, but I’ve stopped trying to force them to like organic peanut butter (it’s nearly impossible to spread anyway). As I write this, my oldest daughter is enjoying making chocolate chip cookies for our family’s party, but she’ll also munch on celery and carrot sticks served, too.

She enjoys a life of balance. When I don’t let the hype get to me, I’m a better mother when I live a life of balance.

April McCaffery is the single mom to two daughters, in 5th and 8th grade.

The Upside of Traffic

Posted on March 7, 2011 by April McCaffery

Ahh, the L.A. commute! The quintessential symbol of SoCal living. One that I’ve managed to avoid for 3 years, and can’t wait to go back to it!

When we moved to Burbank, I was looking forward to saving on gas by living and working in the same city, and having the girls’ schools blocks away. I still have not adjusted to losing my commute, though.

Prior to that, we lived about a half hour away (in L.A. time, still pretty good). I didn’t realize how much I relished that driving time to go from mom to employee, and then back again. After work, I’d take a few minutes to close up the “work box,” enjoy a few minutes to think about anything or nothing, and at a certain landmark of the commute, think about what we’re having for dinner, what I want to ask the girls, and just generally morph myself back into “mom mode.”

My youngest has just been accepted to a charter middle school about 25 minutes away, and I couldn’t be happier about it; not just because I think it will be a more enriching educational experience for her, but also because I will get that time back again!

I can’t text or check my email, even hands-free calls can be hard as I slip in and out of dead zones, and those 25 minutes will be the only ones until the girls go to bed that will completely be mine. (And, given that I have a teenager now, bedtimes aren’t what they used to be.)

The commute time has also proven to be a good time for chats when the girls are with me. There’s something about not having direct eye contact that can make it easier for them to talk to me sometimes about things that are hard for them to say. They’ll admit to mistakes they’ve made or ask my advice. Or we might just all sing along with the stereo together.

I have my certain routes to make the commute more appealing. I generally avoid freeways and take surface streets, where the traffic tends to be more predictable. And I consider myself lucky that part of that commute takes me through Griffith Park, reminding me that there’s more to L.A. than asphalt and billboards.

Sure, there are downfalls: gas prices are rising again, more time on the road means less time at home, getting up earlier. But those costs seem so worth it for that precious gift of me-time.

April McCaffery is the single mom to two daughters, in 5th and 8th grade.