One of my kids comes home with an assignment to complete. She brings it to me for help. Not wanting to do the work for her, I start by asking her to tell me what she knows.
“Okay,” I say, looking at the paper she’s handed me. “What are you supposed to be doing here?”
“I don’t know,” she says.
I hand the paper back to her. “Read the directions to me,” I say.
Reluctantly, she reads. As I listen, I realize I don’t quite understand the instructions, either. We wrestle with the task for a few minutes, I offer one possible approach, and when that idea is rejected, I offer another. As the conversation progresses, my kid gets more and more distressed; it has become abundantly clear that I’m not going to be able to tell her how to do it.
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