Kleenex and peppermints
March 8
“Kleenex and peppermints”
Let me begin by saying that the majority, close to 95%, of my parent teacher conference are an exercise in
self-congratulations.
“Isn’t SamSusie doing beautifully?”
“ Her writing is lovely.”
“ His projects are so creative.”
“ She gets along very well with her peers.”
“ His reading comprehension and complex questioning are impressive.”
“No, I don’t think there is any more you could do at home to help support us here at school.”
“You would like me to send home extra work, so they can improve their grammar skills? Great! will do.”
“Thank you so much for all you do already.”
“Summer school? No no need for summer school.”
“A summer enrichment program at a writing school? Here are a few suggestions…”
Most of the conferences go this way; it is the other 5% stay with me.
Kleenex and peppermints.
Kleenex for those who get a little weepy when they talk about how much they love their children and how concerned they are. Peppermints for the morning coffee breath and the slight scratch in the throat that won’t go away from winter’s cough. They will ask me if their child is normal, they will search for answers. They are exhausted. They have tried everything. “It’ll be fine, right?”
My old boss told me years ago, before I had ever had children, and this was after she’s had her second child: "You don’t know the meaning of the word anxiety until you’ve had children." And now I see the anxiousness on every face that walks through my door.
How to begin: vaping, sexting, bullying, racism, cat calling, bulimia, anxiety, stress. So much of it bundled up in these 14-year-old bodies. And their parents watch helplessly wondering what to do.
The age-old question of a parent seems to be - how close to hold them and how much to let them go.
There is no solid answer, and the ground shifts beneath your feet minute by minute.
“Should we check his or her notebook everyday?”
“Should we take away the phone or the computer?”
“Am I being too much of a helicopter parent?”
“Should I let them fail?”
“Should I let them learn their lesson? Or do I help them out now?”
“How are they gonna learn to live on their own?”
They are only 14. but college, and SATs, and perfect scores loom large in the very near future. Everyone wants the perfect life and yet the perfect life is very seldom ever achieved. And slowly these parents are beginning to realize that this child may be different from what they had planned. Is it going to be fine? No. It is not. It is going to be rough. But it is going to be OK. Hopefully.
The 14 year olds with their complicated lives need compassion. So do their parents. You take care of them with lots of compassion. I'm glad that majority of the conferences are positive.
ReplyDeleteYour great title pulled me right in. I love your questions in a row- so revealing of the worries and uncertainties. Compassionate piece.
ReplyDeleteI hear you. We just had conferences in my middle school too. The kids come in a little anxious as home and school worlds collide. With most kids, I joke and say, "I haven't made anyone cry yet!" until I do. This time around it was a boy. It broke my heart. I wish I;d had peppermints to sweeten the conversation.
ReplyDeleteThe conversation snippets add to the intensity of this post. This line sticks with me, “There is no solid answer, and the ground shifts beneath your feet minute by minute.” So very true!
ReplyDelete