Limiting Parent Access

It's fundamental that teachers and parents communicate, and for me as a teacher, parents are my first and best support. The first thing I do when I see a problem I can't resolve one on one is call. And while I get a lot of feedback from commenters and colleagues who say the parents are never home, they don't care, that it's a waste of time, or whatever, I haven't found that to be the case. Of course I am pretty determined to make contact and I search under every rock for that number.

It doesn't always work. Sometimes the parents are frustrated and don't know what to do. Sometimes they are unwilling or afraid to do anything. No one's perfect. But now, after thirty years, I'm hearing about letters to limit parent access. They say they're being used unfairly against parents of color, and that white parents don't even know about them. For all I know, that's true, because I'm a white parent and this is the first I've heard of them.

In fact I know of multiple instances of parents coming to school and confronting teachers. Our UFT consultation committee has addressed this and we now have a procedure. In our school, all non-employees sign in and wear guest stickers. The guests write that they're going to this office or that, but we don't actually have anyone following people around the building.

So if some parent decides to come to my classroom and scream at me for being a terrible human being, or whatever, there's not a whole lot I can do to stop it. And we have indeed had cases where parents sought out teachers while they were working. I'm available to see parents by appointment. I cannot address parental concerns while I've got 34 students in front of me. I particularly cannot deal with disagreements in front of my students. It's especially egregious if the student happens to have done something wrong. Should I discuss it in front of her peers, so that they can talk about it all day?

I'm really kind of gobstruck that there is this mechanism and I've never even heard of it. I wonder how it even works. We have over 4,000 students in our building. When someone signs in, are the security guards expected to check the name against a limited access list? How large do these lists get? I suppose it's viable, but what happens if they have a hit? Does this person, unlike everyone else, have to make an appointment before meeting in the school?

I can understand how that would make a person angry. And it would be particularly egregious if an incompetent administrator (and yes, there are one or two of those here and there) saw fit to just shut out everyone and anyone who reflected potential inconvenience. That seems to be the case in some places. Of course, incompetent administration isn't headline worthy, and the papers are mostly focused on so-called bad teachers, who are evidently the scourge of western civilization.

I think these letters could be used for parents who've been abusive. There's no excuse for a parent stalking or confronting a teacher in a classroom setting. There's no appropriate response for a teacher beyond, "I can't discuss that at the moment," or calling security. I can understand how frustrating that would be to a parent. But there are reasons why administrators are not in classrooms, and a very good one is so they can deal with theses issues while we are.

If they're dashing off letters so as to lessen their workload, well, perhaps they ought to find jobs more suited to their talents. The problem, though, is that individuals who don't enjoy dealing with people often find their way out of the classroom. They become administrators. Quite unsurprisingly, individuals with little or no people skills are miserable administrators. Just as they deal poorly with students, they deal poorly with teachers. And just as they deal poorly with teachers, they deal poorly with parents.

Of course it's to be expected that if you give incompetent administrators a convenient tool like a limited access letter, some will abuse it. It's too bad because there are certainly cases where such a letter is appropriate. Systemic abuse, of course, could result in it going the way of the dodo bird, like suspensions for kids who publicly instruct teachers to perform unnatural acts.

There is another option of course, and that is holding administrators accountable for their lack of discretion, lack of competence, and lack of skill in dealing with humans.

But I'm a dreamer.

Progress Marches On

For years I've been hearing people say, "Kids today don't know how to read because all they do is watch TV." I doubted that because I've been watching it ever since I could remember, and it never stopped me from reading.

Later, with the ubiquitous calculator rearing its ugly head, people started saying,"Kids today can't add or subtract because all they do is use calculators."

I always thought such people were being ridiculous. Kids have always been pains in the neck, and they hardly ever do what you want them to without a good fight. Read Tom Jones. They weren't any better then. It's their job to be pains in the neck, when you get right down to it.

However, despite my best arguments to the contrary, I'm coming around to the point of view of the Luddites. Wait a minute, I can explain.

My MO for getting new classes into shape is frequent phone calls. I have a particularly rough afternoon class, and I've been putting a lot of time into it. Anyone who's serious about calling homes knows kids whose homes you want to call are fond of providing incorrect numbers.

Kids will stand there, in front of God and everybody, and loudly declare they just moved yesterday, they only have a cell phone, and give you a multitude of even less plausible reasons they don't know their own phone numbers. Much of the time it's total crap.

But yesterday, I met a kid in the hall who'd cut my class three times in the last four days. I told him the phone number he'd given me was no good. He insisted it was, and showed me where it was written in his notebook (He really didn't remember it!). I'd called it twice, though, and told him it was disconnected.

With a knowing look, he pulled out his cell phone to demonstrate that, like all teachers, I was a total idiot. However, his cell phone revealed that he'd copied the number incorrectly.

Incidentally, if you're a teacher looking for more genuine numbers, the first place to check is the medical office, where something better usually turns up, even if it's an emergency number for an aunt or uncle. This year, I'm becoming very well-acquainted with the medical office personnel, and I'm fortunate they're so friendly and helpful.

Here's my point, though: Kids today don't even know their own phone numbers because all they do is use cell phones.