Oblivious Teacher is... Oblivious
So, there I was, about to pop some chicken in the microwave for my lunch... and my phone starts ringing. It's Ms. Teacher calling me, telling me she got my message.
What? No, she had no idea the Impossible Son might be getting bullied! She's never seen anything, except maybe when they're standing in the lunch lines, and then they're only just kind of jumpy, wiggly, and just... acting like little boys!
What? Define acting like little boys? Well, they just can't keep still, can they? They jump, skip, kind of nudge each other, that sort of thing.
The playground? Well, they have a P.E. teacher for P.E., and I haven't been on the recess rotation this semester, I'm helping with testing and tutoring, but the teachers that are outside on the playground haven't reported any problems. Well, wait, I'll take that back. Last week, Mr. Manzie was put in time out for throwing a rock at another little boy. What? My goodness, how did you know, did X's parents say something to you? Oh, you mean X is the one you think is bullying Impossible? Well, I've never seen anything... but then I have 14 kids in my class. It's the biggest second grade class at our school, and it's a little hard to keep my eye on them all. And you know, the girls are so much easier to deal with than the boys!
I don't think I have to go any further, do I? The woman is oblivious, and she has mentioned to me repeatedly all year how overwhelmed she is by fourteen students!! Fourteen!!! Honey, when I was in elementary school, there were sometimes thirty six kids in my class with one teacher... and no teacher aides. And there were never less than thirty two. When I got into middle school, I went to a "magnet" school that boasted about smaller class size, which translated to 24 students to a teacher per class. And she's complaining about 14? Granted, at my son's elementary school, the usual class size is ten to twelve.
And the thing about the rock throwing? That is so unlike my son that I am stunned! What really blows my mind about this is the fact that we had to punish Mr. Manzie for doing the same thing last night. He threw a rock at one of the Fireman and Coffee Lady's kids. This, after the kid in question had been shouting something at him that the Impossible Son refused to discuss, but would get red in the face every time he thought about it, looking toward me with his lips pressed very tightly together before looking back down at his feet. In other words, he had put up with it as long as he could, until he finally snapped and threw a rock. The fact that he threw a rock at the kid who was bullying him doesn't seem to be much of a coincidence now.
The thing is, the Impossible Son is such an incredibly laid-back little guy. Stuff usually rolls off his back like water off a duck... but he can get his feelings hurt, and when it happens... he just wilts. He goes off to be by himself, just to get over his mad, and then he's back and all smiles again. He's very like me in that way. However, if you keep pestering him, and don't let him get over it... well... the results are never good. But it doesn't happen often, and it's very rarely physical.
*sigh*
I also asked about his math scores (again), hoping to get a more definitive answer. Ah, vain hope, how you fade against the light! Okay, that's me being overly dramatic, but, jays, I'm telling y'all... "Oh, he's doing fine, he's doing so much better, it's mostly a matter of him staying on focus, and yes, there's some test anxiety there, but I'm sure we can work him through it..."
Yes, because last semester, his math test scores were so much higher, and suddenly this semester, he's tanking, oh, yes, thank you, that all makes so much sense now! How silly of me to be concerned!!
I have higher hopes of the school counselor.
The Husbandly One wants to transfer him to another school. I pointed out to him that Mr. Manzie's problems are specific to one teacher, a teacher who is new at the school (and new to teaching), and not with the school per se. If I thought it was worth it, I would ask that he be transferred to another class, but we only have three and a half weeks left. He does have good friends in his class (his best friend is in the class), and I had told him this morning to stick with his friends and ignore anyone else. When I picked him up after school, he came racing to me as usual, and threw his arms around me, hugging me a little harder than he usually does.
"I really love you, Mom," he said, and I hugged him back, telling him I loved him dearly, dearly.
He grabbed my hand so we could start walking to the car. "My teacher said you called today. She said you called five times!!"
"Um... yes, yes, I did," I said, wondering what was going on.
He grinned and said, "I'm glad. I'm really glad!"
"Oh? Why?"
"Because she told me what a good job I'm doing in math, and that she's proud of how hard I've been working."
"I see," I said, wondering where this was going. "Well, so... how was today?"
"It wasn't too bad. I stayed with my friends, like you said, and I had a really good day." And he started skipping along happily beside me, chattering away like a little bluejay, and I wondered again about how resilient kids are, and that sometimes, all it takes to make me happy is to see him cheerfully skipping along beside me, talking about silly things, and making the odd little noises boys are so prone to making, all in an effort to gross me out...
I guess we'll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings...
What? No, she had no idea the Impossible Son might be getting bullied! She's never seen anything, except maybe when they're standing in the lunch lines, and then they're only just kind of jumpy, wiggly, and just... acting like little boys!
What? Define acting like little boys? Well, they just can't keep still, can they? They jump, skip, kind of nudge each other, that sort of thing.
The playground? Well, they have a P.E. teacher for P.E., and I haven't been on the recess rotation this semester, I'm helping with testing and tutoring, but the teachers that are outside on the playground haven't reported any problems. Well, wait, I'll take that back. Last week, Mr. Manzie was put in time out for throwing a rock at another little boy. What? My goodness, how did you know, did X's parents say something to you? Oh, you mean X is the one you think is bullying Impossible? Well, I've never seen anything... but then I have 14 kids in my class. It's the biggest second grade class at our school, and it's a little hard to keep my eye on them all. And you know, the girls are so much easier to deal with than the boys!
I don't think I have to go any further, do I? The woman is oblivious, and she has mentioned to me repeatedly all year how overwhelmed she is by fourteen students!! Fourteen!!! Honey, when I was in elementary school, there were sometimes thirty six kids in my class with one teacher... and no teacher aides. And there were never less than thirty two. When I got into middle school, I went to a "magnet" school that boasted about smaller class size, which translated to 24 students to a teacher per class. And she's complaining about 14? Granted, at my son's elementary school, the usual class size is ten to twelve.
And the thing about the rock throwing? That is so unlike my son that I am stunned! What really blows my mind about this is the fact that we had to punish Mr. Manzie for doing the same thing last night. He threw a rock at one of the Fireman and Coffee Lady's kids. This, after the kid in question had been shouting something at him that the Impossible Son refused to discuss, but would get red in the face every time he thought about it, looking toward me with his lips pressed very tightly together before looking back down at his feet. In other words, he had put up with it as long as he could, until he finally snapped and threw a rock. The fact that he threw a rock at the kid who was bullying him doesn't seem to be much of a coincidence now.
The thing is, the Impossible Son is such an incredibly laid-back little guy. Stuff usually rolls off his back like water off a duck... but he can get his feelings hurt, and when it happens... he just wilts. He goes off to be by himself, just to get over his mad, and then he's back and all smiles again. He's very like me in that way. However, if you keep pestering him, and don't let him get over it... well... the results are never good. But it doesn't happen often, and it's very rarely physical.
*sigh*
I also asked about his math scores (again), hoping to get a more definitive answer. Ah, vain hope, how you fade against the light! Okay, that's me being overly dramatic, but, jays, I'm telling y'all... "Oh, he's doing fine, he's doing so much better, it's mostly a matter of him staying on focus, and yes, there's some test anxiety there, but I'm sure we can work him through it..."
Yes, because last semester, his math test scores were so much higher, and suddenly this semester, he's tanking, oh, yes, thank you, that all makes so much sense now! How silly of me to be concerned!!
I have higher hopes of the school counselor.
The Husbandly One wants to transfer him to another school. I pointed out to him that Mr. Manzie's problems are specific to one teacher, a teacher who is new at the school (and new to teaching), and not with the school per se. If I thought it was worth it, I would ask that he be transferred to another class, but we only have three and a half weeks left. He does have good friends in his class (his best friend is in the class), and I had told him this morning to stick with his friends and ignore anyone else. When I picked him up after school, he came racing to me as usual, and threw his arms around me, hugging me a little harder than he usually does.
"I really love you, Mom," he said, and I hugged him back, telling him I loved him dearly, dearly.
He grabbed my hand so we could start walking to the car. "My teacher said you called today. She said you called five times!!"
"Um... yes, yes, I did," I said, wondering what was going on.
He grinned and said, "I'm glad. I'm really glad!"
"Oh? Why?"
"Because she told me what a good job I'm doing in math, and that she's proud of how hard I've been working."
"I see," I said, wondering where this was going. "Well, so... how was today?"
"It wasn't too bad. I stayed with my friends, like you said, and I had a really good day." And he started skipping along happily beside me, chattering away like a little bluejay, and I wondered again about how resilient kids are, and that sometimes, all it takes to make me happy is to see him cheerfully skipping along beside me, talking about silly things, and making the odd little noises boys are so prone to making, all in an effort to gross me out...
I guess we'll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings...