Inside a very warm and muggy high school classroom last night, I sat, alongside thirty or so other parents as their teacher ran down their itemized lists of the students expectations in the classroom and I was impressed. The 2016-17 school year is only four days old and many already they knew who my children were. “Hi, I’m…” “Oh, yes, you’re the boy and doll’s mom…” One teacher said as she reached out to shake my hand. For the briefest of moments, I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or worried. “I’m only following the doll’s schedule tonight so I’ll miss the “Newspaper” information. “I see, well I can tell you I’m looking forward to working with your son…” She said with a smile. “As he is with you. Just please push him, he needs to be pushed…” I said and she smiled again in agreement before turning her attention to the next parent in line to meet her.
Three years ago when my husband and I attended the first “Meet the Teacher” night, we took notes, discussed with teacher’s where our fears for the boy might land, asking what we could do to help them out, etc. Yesterday when I told my husband, “Tonight’s meet the teacher night at school. If you want you can follow the boy’s and I’ll follow the doll’s schedule,” He replied, ‘I’d rather not. “What? “Would you rather take the doll’s schedule?” I tried. “That is not something I planned for this evening…” He began, “Marsh, the boy’s a senior. I think most of the teachers there know who he is…” He argued. “Fine, whatever…” I said resigned. He was right after all. The boy is old and smart enough to know what is expected of him. In addition, he is well liked among the faculty and staff at the school. As such, I went to the school while my husband went to bed for the evening.
When I reached the 6th period, of my doll’s schedule I ran into some old friends. “Wow, this used to be Ms. Dido’s classroom…” I said looking around the room. “You remember that?” Liz asked. “Oh yeah, the boys used to sit in the corner over there and play poker and smoke pot… she was just out there, unawares…” I said and laughed at the memory. “Seriously they smoked pot?” Liz asked, her eyes wide. “Maybe once… I just remember we used to call her Ms. Dodo because she was not all there…” I said with a laugh. “Well one thing hasn’t changed in these many years…” I began, “Still warm as hell in this classroom…” Nodding in agreement Liz added, “Yes, unfortunately, that’s the truth…”
As I exited the school and walked toward my car, a small terror filled my chest. I only have three more of these “Meet the Teacher” nights to go, which made for a very solemn drive home. “Mom what did you think of my Latin teacher?” My doll asked when I entered the house. “You were right, he is kind of scatter brained…” I said and she smiled. “I know right? But I think he’s going to be fun…”
Sigh… This four years flying by shit is for the birds…