Don’t know much words.

 Parents’ Evenings are always a bit of a nervous moment. Probably not helped by the fact that I wasn’t remotely academic when I was at school and so often feel like an utter fraud, waiting to be unmasked by an observant mum.

I’ve never had a bad Parents’ Evening though, we’ve all heard the horror stories of drunk and aggressive parents who try (and sometimes succeed) to kick the shit out of a terrified teacher for perceived wrongs against their offspring. Mostly parents seem to pleased to hear that their children are cruising along at expected levels, don’t get in trouble and aren’t nasty little bullies or falling in with a dubious crowd. Sometimes you have to break these little nuggets of bad news to the folks and on the whole it’s met with a sigh and a solid commitment to sort it all out. What I’m saying is, most parents are brilliant and help the evening go smoothly for everyone, and genuinely care about their child’s progress.

Some aren’t like that. Here are some of the negative stereotypes:

• a) Parents who honestly believe that the little witch they’ve raised is incapable of being the backstabbing little bully she is.
• b) The parent who think their child is a genius. It’s a good thing to have faith and believe in your child, I wish all parents did that. However you do struggle to diplomatically imply that not only is their child not a genius, but actually is a bit, well, thick. In fact, they’re achieving at the same level as a child two years younger. (this, naturally, is the teacher’s fault for not ‘leaning them’ properly)
• c) The parent who constantly claims that their child is the victim of constant bullying, when in fact their child has no social skills, plays too rough, has the grace of a pig or is spiteful. The child isn’t bullied at all, it’s just that not many children like them or want to play with them. For pretty fair reasons.
• d) Parents who do not understand that they have some responsibility for their child’s education. We have them for a few hours a day, for 39 weeks of the year. It’s amazing how much you learn during your childhood which doesn’t come from school. Here’s an example of parent type D…

I had a boy, going on nine years old, who was constantly achieving at the bottom end of ‘average’ in all subjects. That’s fine, some us are just average academically. When I was his age I was way below average. Anyway, I have ten minutes with his mum and dad. Mum’s a serial complainer. Every teacher who has taught her child has had her constant criticism over the years. Dad sits in silence, looking progressively more embarrassed as his wife becomes more thin lipped and flustered.

Mum: “You’re not giving him new reading books to bring home.”

Mr.C: “Well, he knows that when he finishes one reading book he’s to go and choose another from the collection of book boxes over there, they’re arranged by reading level.”

Mum: “But he don’t like reading, you have to make him take a new one.”

Mr.C: “It’s not that easy Mrs…., I don’t have time to go through twenty-odd book bags every day to check, the children do know it’s their responsibility. He’s in Year 4.”

Mum: (becoming more flustered) “Well if you don’t make him he ain’t gonna read at home is he?!”

Mr.C: “To be honest, once he’s at home there’s not much I can do, how often do you manage to read with him?”

Mum: “I don’t.”

Mr.C: “Oh. Why not?”

Mum: “He doesn’t like it and I don’t want the hassle.”

Mr.C: (getting annoyed). “To be fair Mrs…, if he won’t read for you at home when you’re standing over him he’s not going to read for me just because I told him to before he went home. Is he?”

Mum: “Well. I suppose. You don’t give him enough homework either!”

Mr.C: “I think reading and learning spellings is more of a priority for him at the moment.”

Mum: “Well it’s pathetic….he don’t even know much words!”

Mr.C: (stunned silence)

Dad: (finally having enough) “For god’s sake babe, he’s only eight!”

Don’t know much words. Don’t know much fucking words…no love, he doesn’t have a very good vocabulary. And I think I know why. This is a woman who doesn’t know the word ‘vocabulary’, will not read with her children at home and yet wants to know why her son is not top of the class. Jesus fucking wept.

I could hear mum and dad arguing down the hall, she was giving him a ton of shit. Good old dad eh.

I’ll be back next week, I have to go to the country. Shit.