| By Paul Smith 
Paul Smith teaches special education in the Cognitive Disabilities
Borderline program at Oshkosh West High School. He began
his teaching career in September of 1998. | It was a funny feeling when I got called at school that morning.
Kevin’s teacher wanted to know if he had taken his pills.
Oops. I had forgotten to give them to him. So there I was on the
receiving end of the phone call that I had made so many times
before. When I was the one making the call, I usually had some
uncharitable thoughts about the thoughtless parent on the other
end. Now here I was on the other end, and I could only assume
that the teachers at Kevin’s school would be talking about
me that day. That is, unless they’re nicer than I am, which
is highly possible. I was in this situation because my partner
and I had just started doing foster care, and one of the children
in our home had significant behavioral issues. There was also this note that came home: “It’s Kevin’s
turn to bring in snack for his class. He will need to bring in
enough for 22 children.” (As if Kevin is going to take the
responsibility for this on his own.) Of course I realize that
kids need their snacks. And I am all too familiar with the budget
constraints of our school district, and how they necessitate parents
pitching in to provide the extras. But, I think this might be
the “one more thing to do” that pushes me over the
edge. Teaching all day at the high school, and then coming home
to make sure that two highly energetic, attention-starved children
eat dinner, take showers, do their homework and go to bed pretty
much depletes the energy I have. I’ve already given up yoga
class, the New York Times and Entertainment Weekly. Nothing is
left to cut out to make time to comply with all the requests that
come home in that overstuffed backpack every day. So I’ve resigned myself to being a bare-minimum sort of
parent. I’ll get him to school every day clean, rested,
and fed. But I can’t volunteer at school. And I can’t
do fundraisers. And I can’t go to PTO meetings. I’m
sorry. I just can’t. And I wonder – how do other parents
do it? Who are all those other parents on the playground in the
morning? The ones who, when it’s their son’s turn
to bring in snack, bring in individual cups of freshly cut fruit
with a homemade yogurt dipping sauce? (Kevin brought in cups of
chocolate pudding. Sorry. It was easy, and he liked it. I swear,
I used to care a lot about nutrition.) And as this school year has progressed , Kevin’s teachers
have contacted me quite a bit about his behavior and progress
at school. And that’s great – we all know how important
that communication between teachers and parents is to the success
of the student. I just wish that once in a while the news from
school was good. And I can’t help but feel that the notes
and e-mails sound accusatory. Of course, Kevin’s only been
with us for a couple of months, and his problems are several years
old. And of course, his teachers are wonderful people who were
only providing information, and certainly not pointing any fingers.
But for the first time I’m feeling the disappointment of
a parent whose child is not performing well. And living with the
disappointment day after day as we review point sheets and progress
reports can be quite devastating. So now I wonder if my notes and phone calls home have ever inspired
such dismay. I think of myself as a relatively laid-back and undemanding
teacher. And luckily for me, high school teachers don’t
have to think as much about snacks and class fundraisers and parent
volunteers. But I have sent notes home about school supplies that
need to be obtained, and homework that needs to be completed.
I’ve certainly made the “Has your child had medication
today?” call many times. I’ve talked to parents all
about the things they should do to help their children. I would
now venture to guess that many of them are just unable to do all
I suggest – especially since some of them are single parents,
or have several children, financial difficulties, or health problems.
I’ve made countless phone calls and held many conferences
and IEP meetings where I am the bearer of bad tidings. And I have
a newfound sympathy for how the news feels when it’s received
by a parent who has heard a lot of the same bad news before. And now, as a parent, I appreciate even more the talent and
dedication of the teachers and staff in our school district. Both
of the kids' classroom teachers are amazingly creative and caring.
Kevin’s special education teacher is so competent and helpful.
The principal and the school secretary go out of their way to
make every family feel welcomed, and every child feel cared for.
I’ve known these people were amazing before, because I’ve
worked with them for going on four years now. But it’s something
else entirely when it’s my kid on the line, depending on
them for his education, health, and general well being. So, even
if I’m not in the running for a Parent of the Year award,
I’m happy to have had the opportunity to work with my district
colleagues in a new capacity. Return to New Teachers page Posted November 29, 2005 |