Posted by: rocketbride | January 14, 2013

hot steaming pile of essay

Friday was the absolute last day to accept papers, so naturally some kids tried to slime up to my desk and pretend they didn’t know that, and would I please accept this essay? No, children. I’ve been working overtime marking essays for another class; I had to get a lesson for you chuckleheads ready in five minutes; and I was up late last night and my eyes feel like I wore a sandpaper sleep mask. No, you wasted time for three days in class. No, you can’t ooze up to me at the end of the day after saying nothing in class and dump a hot steaming pile of essay on it. Why? Because three different people have told me that you cheated, and I don’t even care about that because the due date was three days ago.

“Miss, why are you so mean today?”

“Why, because I won’t accept this guy’s assignment?”

“No, why are you so mean?”

“Is it my eyes?”


“I’m just tired.”

When I went in for a teacher conference in November, I asked that Blake’s agenda be sent home every day. Little did I know that it would be sent home as asked, stamped every day, but containing no information. (To be fair, sometimes he would draw a bowling ball rolling toward a set of pins. But no due dates, no homework, no useful items.)

After three weeks of having the same conversation with him twice a day (why aren’t you writing your agenda/you need to write in your agenda tomorrow), I’m moving to Phase Two: I’m going to call his teacher every day at lunch and ask for the day’s reminders. I’m going to do this until something useful shows up in his agenda. I’m done with putting pressure on only one point of this teacher-student-parent triangle; it’s time to use both hands. I don’t want to be a troubling parent, but I’m tired of Blake & I being the only people with expectations on us.


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