Back to School Night

In many ways, Back to School night is like flipping on a light after using one's sense of touch to discern, in the dark, the shape of an object. I looked forward to meeting my students' parents as a means of learning more about my students, not only because I believe parents are nearly always the best experts on their children, but also because the apple seldom seems to fall far from the tree. Tonight I was not disappointed.

I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to learn a bit more about my students by employing a Back to School Night strategy I learned from my cooperating teacher while student teaching last year. As parents entered the room, I gave them an index card and asked them to write for me one thing about their child that I ought to know--a special need, a particular difficulty, a hobby or interest--anything that would help me serve that child better. I remember getting a wide variety of great responses to that prompt last year. This year, there were fewer responses, but all were helpful, and several of them entertaining. Perhaps my favorite was the card that, after stating the child's name, simply said "He is a difficult boy. But you can handle him." A close second was the mother who asked for a card for herself and one for her husband, and then proceeded to fill both cards herself. Perhaps I shouldn't make light of parents' efforts to communicate with teachers, and I certainly appreciate their earnestness, but it did make me smile to myself.

A card that provoked a bit more thought came from the mother of one of my more troublesome boys. The boy she described on the card was an angel, "siempre amable y inteligente," and bore only a marginal resemblance to the young man I see in sixth period every day. My first reaction was an inward groan--oh dear, I thought, here is a mother in whose eyes the boy can do no wrong. So much for getting support from home when discipline is needed. Then I thought of another student I once knew--a fifth grade boy I tutored while in college. He was the sweetest, kindest, most sensitive eleven-year-old you could ever hope to meet, but for some reason none of his other teachers could see that in him. I often felt frustrated that they would cut him so little slack, and that authority figures were so often coming down so hard on him. Then, one day I observed him in a different context--among his peers--and saw what all the other teachers had seen. Fortunately, I also understood how this boy could behave in other contexts, as I usually worked with him individually. I knew which one was the real him; no matter how many times he lost his temper or his homework, I couldn't stop seeing him as the sweet and loving boy who wanted to badly to be good, even when it was hard. Perhaps this is why this mother sees her son so differently than I do.

That is why I need nights like Back to School night. Amidst all the parents with their questions about binders and homework and projects and grades, there will be one or two parents who will give me a vision of their child different from what I have been able to see, and then it becomes my task to see in that child what the parent sees.