Waxing Philosophic About Teachers/Parents

Tonight I was at my school doing the audition callbacks for the school musical. We had a parent come, very upset about some issues with her child. I was not the one under fire--but it made me think about the whole parent/teacher relationship in the public school system.

In elementary school they're all friends. Parents come to help in the classroom--they read with their kid and other kids, help with math, and do all sorts of things to make the teacher's life easier. It's a wonderful partnership--and much needed. I subbed enough for elementary school teachers to know that they have it as rough as we junior high teachers do, if in a different way. I guess it depends on what kind of "rough" you can handle. They get no breaks! They can't get stuff done while their kids work! If they mess up, their kids CAN'T READ. I mean, they have a tough job.

Anyway, then Junior High comes along. And suddenly the parent is the enemy. We don't want them in our rooms, and they don't want to be there either. They don't know how to handle the swearing, the crowded hallways, the chance that there will be a confrontation with a student. They don't know the advanced subject, they just don't seem to BELONG. We don't want them to know how much we get frustrated, how often we have to yell, and listen to any critism from someone who just doesn't understand. We don't really know what to DO with them. I imagine it must be a shock for them, this sudden change in attitude. I guess one day I'll find out.

Most parents I deal with are awesome. I'd say about 95%. And honestly, I have very little interaction with them other than an occasional email, a phone call with a question, parent teacher conferences. I teach an easy exploratory class, where most kids get an A to a B. I have very few parents mad at me. I really feel for those Math teachers, man. I make a point of answering every parent email immediately, I try to be as respectful as I can. I know they've got a tough job too, raising teenagers.

But parents can really be the enemy sometimes--I try not to feel that way, but every now and then you have an experience that just makes you wonder why you bother. On Monday we had play auditions--I was there from 7:00 to 5:00. Then I drove home, gulped down some food, picked up Afton, and returned to school for our Literacy Night. (you are supposed to bring your families to it.) I was tired, hungry, and cranky. I had a baby to take care of. I had to be at a booth all night and take pictures of the event, and I had let my battery run down in my camera and had to run to my classroom to get it. They blocked all the hallways and the only way to get to my classroom was through the libary--where a line of parents and students extended forever, waiting to get their Fablehaven books signed by Brandon Mull, who was visiting our school. I was tired, hot, and overwhelmed. I tried to get past the line to get to the far doors that woudl lead me to my hallway. A student was standing in my way and I called out, "Excuse me!" she didn't hear me. I raised my voice, trying to get my massive baby stroller past her. Again she didnt' hear me so I raised my voice again. I imagine I sounded exhasperated. I didn't want to just tap her with the stroller. And some old bat mother says, "Just CALM DOWN!" (telling someone to calm down, by the way, is a SURE FIRE way to wind them up even further...) I turned to her and apologized, saying something incoherant about how I had to get through to get my battery. "WELL," She says again, totally rude, "You can just calm down!" I turned again and said I was sorry. A student next to her nudged her and said under her breath, "She's a teacher!" I didn't have my badge on, see. Then she says it AGAIN all rude. And I got all quiet and said, "i'm sorry--I've just really worked hard for tonight," (and I HAD. I'd made the passports we used on Photoshop, printed 800 copies, sliced them into fourths, made the posters for the school, etc) And then I left. And started crying. Because I'd worked so hard, for free, to make that night possible, to help with the school play, to do ballroom team--all this stuff, and some old BAT yells at me like that? I was so upset. It's parents like that that I dread. (CLEARLY it's been a long time since SHE had to maneuver a stroller...)

Do parents realize that we are PEOPLE? That they can cause us just as much emotional damage as we can cause their kids--MORE? I had an email from a parent once--totally unprovoked, totally unfair, which accused me of everything from being the worst teacher in the school to destroying her daughter's confidence. She even threatened to get me fired. Why? No idea. Had her student 3rd quarter, (this was the end of the year) and she got an A. Never had a trouble with her. Not a THING. It was such an awful email I went into my back room and cried for twenty minutes. I called one of the administrators who talked me through it. And to this day, every time I open a parent email I think of taht woman--I remember those awful, cruel words. I'm afraid it's another one like that. It doesn't matter that she later apologized, that she spoke to one of my former students who praised me to the skies and explained what kind of teacher I really was. It doesn't matter that she was wrong and admitted it. I've been emotionally damaged. I'm terrified of parents. And her kid is FINE.

It's a scary profession. Good thing I love teaching. I love being in front of these students, being a part of their lives, having an influence over even small aspects of their world. I am fascinated to watch them become who they are going to be. They come to visit you from the high school and they've grown so tall and gotten so grown up. It's the beautiful thing about my job. But parents scare the tar out of me.

Sorry. This was SO LONG.