So, I don't think I actually told most people about the
Parent-Teacher conference at our high school. For me, the experience was a total alternative reality. When I normally think of Parent-Teacher conferences my thoughts involve an experienced teacher who probably has child development bench marks ticked off on a scatter plot...or at the very least a vague idea of what is going on in their own classrooms. There are parents who...well…I'm
not a parent so I don't know how they feel normally (...besides tired.My guess
is you are always tired...)
Anyways, it was told to Izora and me that Term 2 was Conference time. Thus, I needed to try and be a real adult for just a
few hours and give off the impression that I know not only how each kid is
doing in my class but which one is which (African names are haaaard). However, I had just changed from working with the Grade 9s to the Grade 8s a few weeks before. So I did not know how each kid was doing in my class and I had absolutely no idea what their names were. Minus Isaac. That one was easy.
I also needed to find euphuisms to explain to some parents that their kids totally suck and ruin everything- and do so through a language barrier. I wore a red blazer and purple dress- hoping I could be at least DISTRACT with a LOUD and ABRASIVE color palette if things got weird.
I also needed to find euphuisms to explain to some parents that their kids totally suck and ruin everything- and do so through a language barrier. I wore a red blazer and purple dress- hoping I could be at least DISTRACT with a LOUD and ABRASIVE color palette if things got weird.
Out of my 80 or so Grade 8s, I had about 20 families come to see
me. I did have some parents looking for
an explanation for the super low English marks for the Grade 9 classes I was
shortly responsible for (and who's exam I marked). I felt really bad but those
classes where so enormous I had absolutely no idea who anyone was with just a
name on a paper. In my most "compliment sandwich" way possible I
tried to tell them that the entire Grade 9 sucked and
wouldn't listen...but hey, maybe that wasn't your kid!
**Interjection- as I write this, two learners, who are not
mine, just walked in for the sole purpose of taking selfies with me....
"don't say she's your girlfriend," one of them said to the other…
Oh God...
I'm going to be blasted so hard on teenage PLK social media**
Most of the conferences went OK; unfortunately I couldn't answer most parents’ questions about the Grade 8 Term 1 exams
because at the time I too busy crying in the library because Grade 9 was mean to me. But, I could tell them how many times their kid was late to
class and if they make my head hurt or not.
I had one older brother come in HOT, both literally and
figuratively (he was cute and his shirt was tight), for his younger brother.
The learner had skipped my class so many times in the beginning of the term I didn't believe him when he tried to come into my class one day:
"You're not in this class," I yelled at him as he slinked through the door.
"Yes mem, that's me!" ::points to roster:: ::takes out ID::
"Well, I've never seen you before. That means you're really far behind and have a lot of work to do."
The second time her appeared I made him stand up in front of the room because he was talking, we got in a physical wrestling match over his backpack, and thus solidified a rather fantastic and productive student/teacher relationship. His brother was as frustrated as I was by the learner-pissed that he had been skipping, lying about it, and saying he didn’t have homework. “I’m taking your number, and I’m going to set up meetings! He will be in class the rest of the term, and if he’s not, I will know about it!” the brother told me. YOU GO BRO. Let’s educate together!
And maybe the best part of all the conference chaos was that in our school the learners attend the conferences with their parents. They either cower in fear once the gig is up and their lies have been uncovered or they receive direct praise for a job well done. It greatly changes the dynamics of my meetings with parents to have the leaners there, but also allows a rare moment for me to chat individually with each student. Maybe something resonates.
"You're not in this class," I yelled at him as he slinked through the door.
"Yes mem, that's me!" ::points to roster:: ::takes out ID::
"Well, I've never seen you before. That means you're really far behind and have a lot of work to do."
The second time her appeared I made him stand up in front of the room because he was talking, we got in a physical wrestling match over his backpack, and thus solidified a rather fantastic and productive student/teacher relationship. His brother was as frustrated as I was by the learner-pissed that he had been skipping, lying about it, and saying he didn’t have homework. “I’m taking your number, and I’m going to set up meetings! He will be in class the rest of the term, and if he’s not, I will know about it!” the brother told me. YOU GO BRO. Let’s educate together!
And maybe the best part of all the conference chaos was that in our school the learners attend the conferences with their parents. They either cower in fear once the gig is up and their lies have been uncovered or they receive direct praise for a job well done. It greatly changes the dynamics of my meetings with parents to have the leaners there, but also allows a rare moment for me to chat individually with each student. Maybe something resonates.
Then, there was an extremely awkward conversation with Watch Girl
and her mom. Remember that tiny precious learner I drove home one day when she
missed her transport and she gave me a watch the next day to say “thanks?” Yah.
So. That watch was her mother’s. She stole it off her bureau. Mom had been
looking for it for about a month. Watch
Girl, I thought we had something going on! Now I look like an asshole thanking
your mother for the gift she didn’t know she gave me. Now, I trust no one.
In all, the conferences took hours and I was at school from 7:15am
to about 8:15pm. Once we started I had a queue for a solid 2 hours of parents
waiting to talk to me. It was overwhelming and my face got red and sweaty.
Still, I think I fooled most people about being an adult. Izora and I
celebrated by going home and throwing a 5-month birthday party for Nana.
Because adults throw parties for dogs on school nights, right?
