%&$#@& lazy parents, part II

Yes... there's more!

The following Thursday, Tamon's attitude towards school work not having changed in the least, I decided to follow through with his mother's request, and asked him to read an age-appropriate novel and write a 1/2 page summary of each chapter, to be handed in on Monday morning before boarding the bus for Camp. Knowing very well his propensity for procrastination and avoidance, I asked him on Friday afternoon if he'd started his project. When he said he hadn't yet chosen a book, I asked him to select one from the classroom library to show me before leaving the class at the end of the day (of course, he didn't). I emailed his mother to let her know that I'd gone along with her "suggested" consequence, and went home for the weekend.

Night owl that I am, late Sunday night I checked my email before going to bed, only to find the following in my inbox, timestamped 12:26 am:

Thank you for your email, And yes I understand from Tamon that there has been more difficulty this week. I will be coming to the school this morning with him before the students arrive for the field trip. As I am not going to allow him to go until I speak with you directly. I have some concerns with how Tamon is feeling about this trip.

I don't anticipate that you will have received this email before tomorrow morning so I will leave it at that.

Thank you.

Although of course I didn't reply (office hours definitely not extending to past midnight!), I at least had something like advanced warning that trouble was brewing...

Monday morning, I arrived at school at 7:20 to find most of the kids with their parents and luggage, eagerly waiting for our departure to Camp. I rushed into the school to set up the class pets in the Kindergarten room, only to be ambushed in the stairwell by Tamon's mother. Desiring to get the message across that I was in a rush, I invited her to walk and talk, and continued my way down to the classroom.

Given what she had to say, I am surprised she didn't ask me to meet her at 6 am instead. I was informed in no uncertain terms that her son was supremely unhappy, cried himself to sleep every night, and hated coming to school each day - all thanks to me. "You are unfairly targetting my son, singling him out for supposed misbehaviour," she ranted. "I've asked other parents, and they said their kids agree that you're bullying him. No one else gets treated this way. I mean, what kind of person assigns a 10 page essay to a ten-year-old??"

I explained that I hadn't assigned a 10 page essay, but rather a series of 1/2 page chapter summaries. "Yes but you told him AGE APPROPRIATE! He's got a 20 chapter novel! You saw it, and you said nothing?!" I repeated to her the circumstances of the past week which had led up to this point - none of the other kids lie to my face - reminding her that, as I had pointed out in my last email, I had in fact not seen his book choice, as he had once again neglected to follow my instructions. But by then, of course, she was on a roll.

"I don't know how I feel about sending my son with you to this camp. I need to know that he'll be safe and happy, and right now I don't feel that being with you for three days will be an emotionally safe environment for him."

By this point I'd lost what little patience I had... especially knowing that I had 61 other students waiting to board the bus. "Look," I said shortly, "All the activities are run by the Camp staff. I'll barely see the kids, and they'll be way too busy to see or care about their teachers. I have to go, NOW! All the kids and parents are waiting outside, and we have a ferry to catch. Talk to your kid, and figure out what you want to do. The bus is leaving in 5 minutes."

In the end, of course, Tamon came with us (although as neither the permission form nor the cheque had been handed in, I had to call the school from the ferry to have the principal obtain them from his mother). I've had no contact with her since, although she apparently admitted to "being something of a bitch" when the principal called her about the missing papers.