Lefty’s second-grade daughter faced the “dread diorama.” After sacrificing every shoebox in the house, parent and child rebelled:
. . . this morning, my daughter walked into school empty handed, her depiction of her favorite scene of her favorite book rendered not in 3-D cardboard, but in words on two sides of a sheet of paper tucked neatly into her backpack, along with a note from yours truly.
The males in my family have problems with small-muscle coordination: For my brothers (or my father), building a diorama would have been frustrating and tedious, a real turn-off. Writing a book report? No sweat. I’m a little better at arts and crafts, but not much. Do teachers really believe that all students must master the cardboard diorama to be useful citizens of the 21st century?