Plastic...

Today was parent teacher conferences. It's a two day, half school day, half hell on earth, extravaganza of solutions, questions, excuses and promises. For the most part I present a case and then just listen.

"Hi, I', Miss X. I'm your child's English teacher, or babysitter."
"Thanks for seeing me, today, even though you had to call every number I have including my work where I was embarrassed into having to talk to you and because my boss was listening agreeing to come to this stupid meeting that is probably all your fault anyway because you are a lousy teacher who doesn't recognize the genius angel that my child is."
"No problem, it speaks well of you and your child's future that you were willing to come... Maybe you will visit them in prison too!"
"You know, my child tells me all the time how much they enjoy your class, you have the most comfortable desks for sleeping."
"Really? I didn't know they had moved beyond monosyllabic conversation"
"Oh, yes, you are one of their favorites, especially to put on their dart board."
"How nice. I'm glad to hear you say that because your child is the most obnoxious and insincere little twerp I have ever had the pleasure of working with and now having met you I can see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'm glad I've met you, now I don't feel bad about this kid's failing grade anymore, I'm just sorry I didn't do it sooner!"

No, that conversation did not happen... out loud.

Seriously, I present the child's progress, record, behavior, etc. They ask a few questions, I answer, then they make excuses, I suggest solutions, they make promises and then the whole process starts over with the next group.

When my Dad used to go to parent teacher conferences he made me come with him. I was not allowed to talk until spoken to, I had to listen to every word the teacher said as they presented my record. Then my father would ask me if there was anything I wanted to add or that I disagreed with. Then the teacher and my father (this was back when parents and teachers were on the same team by the way) would tag team me into working harder, getting better grades and behaving better.

Now, I have to say a bunch of flattering things to the parent (And occasionally the child) to get them to agree to try a little harder, be a little quieter in class or a bit more respectful. It's a funny kabuki dance where I essentially end up giving parents my bottom line and from then on the kid knows exactly how far they can push and no farther. Don't I sound cynical? It's not always that bad. And sometimes it's worse.

I have a student who puts a new spin on rude. She is a beautiful girl, and smart as a whip. She will also have puppies when she gives birth some day, if you catch my drift. Seriously. Out right rude, disrespectful and malicious! Oh my. So I started with what a great mind she had, all the potential, and then I moved onto the bad grades and worse attitude. I ended by telling the mom that I was frustrated because I felt like the girl wasn't learning anything in my class and I so wanted her to be successful. The mother asked the child to leave and then burst into tears. "Our life has gone to hell, you can't understand, and so it's not her fault and I can't let you say she can't learn!" OMG! "Ma'am, I didn't say that she couldn't, I just feel like I am failing her as a teacher and I was hoping you could offer some solutions to the problems of her behavior and inability to complete assignments." More tears, more excuses. I went and got the kid back. We created a plan to help her make the work back up and succeed. Mom was so happy and appreciative. I saw the look on this kid's face. What a con job the whole thing was. Yet I'm stuck there, bound by decency to act like I buy it.

We'll see.