Parent-Teacher Conferences

The snow hit yesterday, so attendance was light. Some parents came. One stepdad came with his girl, gathering information for her dad in hopes that dad would quit buying the girl new phones and shoes until her academics improve. I sense a battle for the girl’s affections and a future filled with new shoes, whether this student does her work or not. At least someone is trying to keep her on track. Stepdad seemed like a lucky draw, one I hope the girl will eventually appreciate.

Students with stronger grades outnumbered their counterparts. That’s always true in conferences. The students who most need help often manage to keep their parents home on conference night. The students who know they are academically in good standing will remind mom and dad about conferences, eager for their moment in the spotlight. In the larger scheme, I’m sure that this attendance pattern contributes to the results I see in my classroom. Conferences reinforce the need for continued academic effort.

I wish more struggling students had made it to last night’s conferences. I hope a few will come this morning. Grades this semester are very low, in part due to the scripted master plan provided by the strangers now running my school. I keep having to give tests I did not write that are years above the academic operating level of my students. Some students are seeking out extra help and tutoring. Others are staying in their cabins as the Titanic goes down. I need to talk with many parents, but day conferences are almost always much lighter than evening conferences. Contrary to preconceptions about the lazy poor, most of my student’s parents work. Many work two jobs. They are the working poor, putting in 50 hours at slightly over minimum with no benefits because their employers hold them below the threshold for benefits.

Eduhonesty: I have to put on my high-heeled shoes now, going off into the snow to visit with moms and dads. That day of evening conferences runs long. I worked twelve straight hours yesterday, gulping down coffee and Dunkin Donuts egg white flatbread in the short break between my regular day and conferences. I enjoy conference days, though. Moms and dads are my strongest allies, shoe-and-phone-dad notwithstanding. Sometimes they can get the homework done. They can make a student understand that schoolwork and school behavior matter. I give a lot of talks, but parents walk the walk. When they step out into a night where the air hurts their faces, and white ice crystals cover the road, they tell their children how very much school matters.