some lights seem eternal
in this springtime of hope

I wear a tie because it feels like a noose

September 22, 2004
We had parent night tonight. Regardless of the opinions of people who dislike me, I was well received by the parents of students in my class. I think that everything went well; with the exception of one parent�s insistence that we do something, that Board of Education has said, �No,� to. It is not my place to argue policy with parents but I had to explain and then defend the policy to her. I am fine with that. I wish she had been fine with my answer.

I had a long talk of a short pier with one of the parents about her husband who died over the summer. I told her that I would keep an eye on her son this year and that I had cried for her family when I had heard the news of her husband�s death. He was such a good father and they have a beautiful family.

Then, after parent night, I had to meet with the school board president, the principal, and the music teacher to come up with a plan of action of how to approach the problems that the music teacher has caused.

I am a firm believer in home to school and school to home communication. I communicate the parents of my students to death. When there is a big problem in our classroom there is no huge, ugly incidents. The parents know what is going on and we work on problems. Things do not blow up in my room often either because I keep a lid on things. The music teacher goes so far as to avoid parents. In one case, a parent retained a lawyer to solve the issue.

Now, I have to work with her and the school board to resolve the issues that could have been solved years ago with simple phone calls and notes home. She has children. I do not. I understand that parents value their children over their ability to look like an adult in public. They consider their children important and want the near constant 411 on their children�s lives. She feels put upon to do the simple tasks of teaching, let alone something that requires consideration of others.

Also this week two people took time out of their day to tell me that I was not funny, or smart. One of them was a diarist and one was a teacher at the school. It is strange but not ironic that the diarist�s comment was valid and the teacher�s was not. I also care that the diarist thought that but could care that the teacher had something awful to say about me. I told the teacher that if she had something to say about me that I would appreciate it being said to me so that I could fix the problem that I was causing. I told the diarist I was sorry.

However, despite this week I am incredibly depressed. I want to wake up next Tuesday.

12:13 AM :: 5 comments so far ::
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