[School is still going strong: academics, end-of-year events, and the sign-in book for late arrivals. Yesterday I sent the following to my child’s teacher]

I would like to submit an essay on what I have done in an effort to persuade [child] to do her persuasive essay.

It is the condition of some kids who have strong opinions to not feel confident in sharing those opinions persuasively. Persuasive, as a descriptor, may incite suspicion on par with “healthy” and “character-building.” These words are a precursor to unpleasant, effort-driven success traps (i.e., the more you succeed,  the more is expected of you).

Furthermore, the strategies purported to budge the reluctant writer from a place of indignant indifference to a place of willing progression rely on tools of persuasion.* These tools are subject to the neutralizing abilities of the student whose opinion is unwavering. In the case of my favorite fifth grader, the following methods have been neutralized in her mother’s efforts to bring resolution to the essay titled, “Why Elementary Students Should Not Have Homework”: Tip the Scales of Disinclination with Ticket to Amusement Park, Reward Positive Approximation with Bursts of Affirmation at Every Step in the Right Direction, and Say No to Every Request for Screen Time Until the Essay is Turned In.

In the case of the Tipped Scales, a Berry Pass for summertime outings in Marion County caught my eye: “Fifty dollars to go to Get Air, Athletic Edge, The Kroc Center, AND Enchanted Forest?! I can’t NOT buy those!” And because the website said supplies were limited, I couldn’t buy them for the other kids, dangle that carrot in front of the third kid, and then discover that it was too late to purchase hers when she completed her task. So I just bought them all, forgot about the conditions, and made the expectations the same for all the kids.

In the case of Affirmation Bursts, I created a Treasure Hunt with little sticky notes that led to small rewards along her path to progress. Starburst candies started her off in her quest to open her homework folder and search for the buried treasure within. The treasure was not only her essay packet, but an invitation to get some side-by-side support and a gift from her mom. The dollar she received got us as far as a single online source with credible, timely, and useful material. Then she needed a break to play Prodigy…for the rest of the day.

We closed out yesterday with the Denied Requests when my most recent suggestion–that we could record and transcribe an interview I had with her on the topic–was also rejected.

It would seem that the strategies employed in prompting a persuasive essay from my daughter are no match for her power to resist them. In this case,  resistance art  may be the only answer. The assignment will speak for itself when found at the bottom of your inbox, torn, smudged, patched back together, and containing thoughts conveyed in ALL CAPS where formality would dictate otherwise. You may display it, charge a fee for viewing, and grant interviews when Resistance Art trends among young students go viral. I’m signing over the rights as her guardian–for the assignment; I’m keeping my daughter–so that I never have to see it again.

PS–If an essay should appear in proper form by June 6th, it is my husband and his resistance to resistance that has carried the day. You see, he grew up on Star Trek and is of the firm opinion that “resistance is futile.”

*I finished the ADHD Masterclass for Parents on this topic today, and learned that the teacher has no children of his own. I rest my case.

I received this note in a sealed envelope after school, and I sure was pleased. Wish I could stick it on my fridge without giving away my underhanded methods…