Target Practice

There is a profound sadness enveloping me from within as my retirement date looms large in my future, even though I know it is time for me to move on and that is what I want to do. An unknown future is intimidating, but staying where I am/doing what I am doing is no longer an option. Each time that I have a mood swing and question my decision to move on, I have another one of those days that reaffirms that it is time for me, myself, and I to find and live our life.

Two parent contacts, coming on the heels of progress reports finally arriving home (there is a 2-week lag time when the system works well; a lot happens to change a grade in 2 weeks). One parent explains to me that her daughter is missing class 2-3 times a week, so isn’t getting important instruction she needs to complete the assignments, which means she’s not earning full points. I concur.

The parent’s next question: what can you (the teacher) do to improve her grade?

The reason she’s not in class is that she is a year-round sports athlete, and with the new schedule (designed to cut down the first period tardy problem), athletes leave class during 5th period, rather than 6th, which means they are now missing 2 class periods every time they have an event, even when that event is a home event.

The problem is obvious, but the solution isn’t so clear-cut, especially when the counselors continue to tell the kids they HAVE to build a rich curriculum vitae of extra-curricular activities if they plan to get into the 4-year college of their choice. Yes, that is true to a degree, but the student who is earning B-C-D grades, especially in honors’ courses, isn’t going to have to worry about that dilemma because (s)he won’t be academically eligible for the college of their choice.

It’s all about choices, and choices are based on individual priorities. For me, it’s a no-brainer: drop out of the athletics, but that is not a palatable option for most students/parents.

The other issue is one that rears its ugly head far too often: a student arrives home to find furious parents holding a progress report over his head. When the heat gets too intense, he fires back, deflecting the attack off his failure to perform and puts it onto my shoulders, embellishing a conversation we shared mere hours before so I became not just strict/mean, but a teacher on the verge of doing something that could involve a reprimand. His motive was simple, get the parents off his butt, but he didn’t realize that his creative story-telling was potentially serious for my career.

When I was called to account by an administrator, he understood that the kid had enlarged and embellished a simple discussion into something much more to save his own ass, but it was uncomfortable, to say the least. The parent demanded (and I do mean demanded) to talk to me in person, but refused an in-person conference, which I requested. The admin tried to pave the way, but the mother had an agenda that was going to be fully exposed—and there were no 2 sides to the story.

The phone calls did not go well: dad, who was abrupt and rude, hung up on me after directing me to speak to his wife and demanding to know where I got his phone number. There was no one at home, so I left a message, and when I called the mother’s work number, I got a tone, like a fax phone. When I was able to call back during my prep, the mother was … arrogant bitch comes to mind … unpleasant.

She did not care that I had called home, called her work, and talked to her husband: why had I not immediately called her? Hello? I did call her, at 3 different numbers, but could not make immediate contact with her personally. Well, her husband's cell phone number was on the contact card, not her cell phone number, so I could have called all day and never reached her. As for the fax tone, that could not have happened because that phone is set to go directly to message. I bluntly asked her why she thinks I would waste my time explaining the delay in getting through to her after trying 3 different numbers and then waiting for my prep period so I could try again.

It took a minute to realize that her frontal personal attack about the phone calls set the tone for the rest of the conversation.

She made thinly-veiled references to the “horror” her son has had to endure in my classroom, several times accusing me of being unfriendly, distant, and aloof. I told her frankly that this was an uncomfortable situation for me, especially since my concern was her son’s classroom conduct and his grade, and it seemed that her agenda was a personal attack on me. I stuck to the script, classroom conduct and academic failure, but she kept coming back to the personal attack.

I refused to respond to her accusations, and just waited for her to resume the conversation before I replied to anything she said. If it was personal, I said nothing; when I did respond, it was about her son's classroom conduct and academic failure.

The thought flitted through my mind that this marriage must be an endurance contest: the father was rude, abrupt, and domineering, and the mother filled in any missing gaps in his arrogant domination of the family dynamic. No wonder the kid lashed out at me when I reprimanded him for his inappropriate conduct and failure to hand in assignments: he’s been trained by masters.

It was a very long, difficult conversation, but it seemed to end on a more positive note than it began, as she realized that I was not going to respond to the personal attack because this is about her son’s classroom conduct and academic failure, not about my personality. I offered several suggestions to improve his conduct and his grade, and she finally relented somewhat and seemed willing to work with me, rather than attack me for what she perceives are my personal shortcomings. I can see that her relentlessness must completely tear down her son, who then comes into the classroom determined to make a name for himself any way he can. Unfortunately, they’ve taught him that acting out will get him farther faster than plodding away, one day at a time.

An hour later, her son walked in the door for class; the good news is that his conduct today was exemplary. There is, of course, the “other shoe” syndrome, waiting to find out what’s going to hit me after school lets out, but that is part of the employment package for teachers. The truth is always someone else’s perception, including that of a parent who has never met me and believes every word her 15-year-old son tells her is gospel.

It’s a challenge to feel like a target, especially when there is no defense allowed, but each day past is another closer to June 15.