Our family vacation ended yesterday.
As we've done for many years, we sailed on an antique windjammer up in Maine for four days. Three of the four, we were completely shrouded in fog. On the last morning, the fog finally broke ... and it rained.
Not our best trip, weatherwise.
But, we saw four bald eagles, three harbor seals, and a pod of porpoises. We ate way too much (definitely held our own at the "all-you-can-eat" lobster bake). We met such nice and interesting people. We played with the captain's adorable four-year-old son. I got through ten back issues of The New Yorker. And, my daughter made a dent (a small dent, but a dent nonetheless) in her summer homework.
Last night, we came home to a happy, if slightly chubby, puppy. (He seems to have finagled his way into some extra treats from our housesitter while we were sailing.)
I also came home to 187 work emails.
Not spam emails. Not notes from friends emails. Not opt-in subscription newsletter or retail coupon or airline update emails.
Work emails. 187 work emails. Each more urgent than the last.
"Ah ha," you may be thinking, "She forgot to tell her clients and colleagues that she was on vacation." No, they knew. In fact, most of the emails began with "I hope you're enjoying your time off."
(Um ... I might enjoy it more if you weren't sending me emails.)
It's frustrating. You look forward to a family vacation (well deserved and not nearly as long as it should be). You work twice as hard as usual so you can actually go. Then you come home to twice as much work as usual waiting. So basically, in addition to unpacking and laundry and grocery shopping, you spend your last day of freedom trying to catch up so your head doesn't explode on your first day back.
Of course, this dismal situation isn't unique to me. My husband is catching up on his emails even as I type. And, my daughter still has two and a half chapters of bio, six more chapters of civics, three papers and Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. (In her defense, she tried reading that last one on the boat. She made it through page eight before she — literally — fell asleep.)
Back to my emails, though. I'm sorting through estimates from printers, feedback from clients, requests for proposals, background information to write copy, artwork to approve, minutes from board meetings, and an invitation to speak at a conference in October.
And I thought my head was in a fog on the boat!
Some of the emails are important. Some, not so much. Many could just as easily have waited until I got back officially. And, then there are the exponential emails on a single topic because everyone hits "Reply all." Too often, emails are sent after hours, even though nothing can really be done about them until the next business day. It feels like people are playing a game of electronic "hot potato." You see, once it's all in an email in my in-box, it's off their plate. Or their desk. Or maybe just their mind.
I'm glad someone can relax.
So, should we just forgo the family getaways? Give up on the mini breaks?
Is all the work and worry before, after and — in our almost always wired world — during a vacation really worth it?
You better believe it!
If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of my book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.
Lately, my teenage daughter has been complaining that she isn't having much of a summer. I have a mixed reaction to this.
On the one hand, I want to say "Welcome to my world, princess." My work doesn't stop over July and August. In fact, many of my ad agency's clients want their marketing campaigns out in September, so we are typically extra busy at this time. If there does happen to be a lull, I don't enjoy it because I'm too worried about grownup things like income and revenue, mortgage, retirement and college savings.
On the other hand, I have to concede that my daughter has a point. With what felt like countless snow days (six in reality), she was still in school, finishing classes and taking final exams, until the bitter end of June. She started one of her jobs, counseling at an equestrian camp, the very next day. She's had horse shows nearly every weekend, some of them out of state. These are all good things, but it's been too much.
And, speaking of too much, what a perfect segue to the point of this post.
My daughter, and every other high school student I know, has too much summer homework.
She has to read Heart of Darkness for Honors English. (Not too long but a guaranteed snore-fest.) She has to read A Brilliant Solution by Carol Berkin and write a paper on it, plus analyze two essays on Locke and Hobbes for Civics. And, finally, she has to read and take copious notes on chapters of her larger-than-life AP Bio textbook.
We weren't exactly blindsided by the assignments. And, this is nothing new for her; in fact, I've written about this before. But it still boggles my mind. I went to a super competitive high school and an elite university. I can only remember one summer assignment from either distinguished institution.
We were asked to read the novel 1984 prior to starting college. We would be the class of 1984, so someone thought it would be a good choice and would give us a shared literary experience to discuss during freshman orientation week. I had already read it in ninth grade, but I dutifully re-read it (Can you say "geek?"). Apparently, I was in a distinct minority. I think just two of the ten kids in my orientation group had bothered to read it at all.
Today, most high schools assign work in an attempt to reverse what's referred to as the "summer brain drain." Teachers will tell you (and research and test scores support it) that students lose as much as six weeks of learning when they shut down for the year. So, much of every fall semester is taken up with re-teaching what was taught the previous spring. There is definitely a strong case for continued learning.
But, and I really want to type BUT here, just because something makes sense in theory doesn't mean it will play out in reality. Since when do teenagers automatically buy-in to what's good for them? Here are just some of the issues as I see them ...
Teenagers are excellent at procrastination. I think it's the very odd over-achiever who actually starts a summer assignment at the start of summer.
The assignments are long and dull and dry. My daughter and her peers would be far happier to pick up a book if it was actually interesting or entertaining.
There's virtually no support from the teachers. Don't get me wrong, each of my daughter's instructors has posted his or her email address and invited questions and comments from the students. But I'm guessing that very few (or none) of said students are taking them up on it.
Summer homework takes teens away from other important activities. A lot of teenagers, including my daughter, work or volunteer. With better weather and more discretionary time, the summer months should also be used for socializing and physical activity.
And, perhaps, most importantly ...
Year-round schoolwork means year-round stress. Even though my daughter still hasn't started her assignments, they've been on her mind. And, not in a good way. Junior year was stressful enough, believe me.
A break would have been welcomed and deserved. By me, as well as by my daughter.
If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of my book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.
Quick! Call The Times!
My teenage daughter and I are in complete agreement about something.
OMG!
These days, this state of harmony is a rare and wondrous phenomenon. There's no doubt that I've raised an independent thinker. She has her own opinions about pretty much everything, and they differ from mine ... well .. pretty much all the time. What to watch on TV. What to have for dinner. The intrinsic value of a well-made bed. We don't see eye-to-eye too often.
But, we are both in accordance right now. We both feel strongly that homework over the summer is unfair, unjust, cruel and unusual punishment. It's a bum rap. It's a double-dealing, dirty pool of a scam. A travesty of justice, a sheer and utter misuse of authority.
And, given that it's mid-August and school starts two weeks from Tuesday, the summer homework heat is on.
WTF?
Lest you think I'm (we're!) complaining about some silly little reading assignment, try this on for size:
1. A 181-page book about the English language, on which my daughter needs to be prepared for a "rigorous test" day one.
2. Another 248-page book, also on the English language, on which my daughter has to write a 2-page analytical essay.
3. Two hand-outs (36 pages and 21 pages), supplementing the above volumes (because — apparently — 429 pages aren't enough), which will provide the guidelines for 2 more 2-page papers.
4. A final 524-page book on Thomas Jefferson, a 5 to 7-page paper and at least 3 blog posts about it.
In case you weren't doing the math, my daughter is expected to read 1,010 pages (that's serious, non-fiction pages; we ain't talkin' Gossip Girl, Twilight or Divergent) and write 4 analog papers plus 3 digital ones.
Did I mention it's mid-August?
Of course, if we were to complain, either of the offending teachers would ask a simple question. Could she have started sooner? Yes and no. She certainly had the assignments, and we ordered the books fairly promptly. But, she was away the first three weeks of the summer. Soon after, we had back-to-back-to-back houseguests. She's had multiple horse shows (some out of state), SAT prep and she holds down a part-time retail job.
Trust me, she hasn't been twiddling her thumbs. She also hasn't had a moment to enjoy a pool, a beach or much of a social life. And, perhaps most importantly, she wrapped up sophomore year (finals and papers and subject matter SATs, oh my!) and she was burned out. She was t-o-a-s-t.
I understand that teachers may worry about students losing momentum or forgetting what they were taught. And, no, I don't want my daughter's brain to turn to jelly while she watches reality TV reruns on our iPad. But, there has to be some happy medium. Couldn't the assignments be a little more open-ended? "Read 4 books. Your choice."
The classic song from Porgy & Bess tells us "Summertime and the livin' is easy."
My daughter and I agree to disagree with that one.
If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of my new book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.
