Back To School

Back To School Night for the middle school two days ago: I attended, while Himself dealt with the soccer practice taxi runs.  The usual division of labor.  It will be repeated later this week for the same occasion at Thing One’s high school.

Unfortunately, there being two middle schoolers in this family these days and only one of me, I could only follow the schedule of one child.  In practice, an easy decision.  I am now on my third sixth grader at this school, so I’m pretty familiar with the logistics and demands of that grade; she has neither of the new teachers and in general, sails through school like a Sunfish in a stiff breeze anyway, so I told her ahead of time that I would be seeing her brother’s teachers.  She understands.  I did take the opportunity over the evening to stop in and say hello to her math, science, and LA/SS teachers, though, so I don’t feel that I entirely neglected her.

The procedure is that you follow your child’s Monday schedule in its entirety from class to class. Each teacher has about 10 minutes to give you an overview of who they are and what they plan to teach that year. As veteran parents, most of this we’ve heard several times before. We know the drill courtesy of Thing One, our ‘trial balloon’ through the system. My goal for the evening was twofold: unusually for us, we have two new teachers this year, whom I wanted to meet, and secondly, I wanted to have a talk with Thing Two’s language arts teacher and get a bead on the aide who will be with her this year, since she plays an important role in his IEP.

I walked away feeling very good about the two new teachers. Granted, I also felt very old, since the new math teacher looks like she’s 12. I understand that she’s in her early 20s: like I said, I’m just old. The new Spanish teacher is actually one of the very few minority teachers we have, in addition to one of the few males. I love his enthusiasm and I think he’s going to be a great role model as well as a good teacher.  These evenings are always very stressful. The teachers frequently mention the homework they assigned for tomorrow and the tests that were today or are tomorrow or next week and of course I haven’t heard about any of these things. This is by choice because I want to see how much Thing Two can handle on his own, but I couldn’t resist texting my husband and asking: did he study for that test? Did he do that homework? The answers were invariably reassuring. But I think in general, as long as he is able to manage his own affairs, I am better off just not asking those questions.

I have to say though: the best part of the night was a conversation with another parent that I had while I was walking into the science classroom and she was walking out of it. It was almost at the end of the evening, I was tired and overwhelmed and I wasn’t paying attention to who was walking by me. All of a sudden, I heard my name called and I turned to see a woman whom I know well. Her sons are a year older and a year younger than Thing Two, so I’ve seen a lot of her over the years.

What she wanted to tell me was that her sixth grade son had had a tough time in band that day. He made a couple of mistakes and he was upset with himself. Thing Two, who plays the same instrument, apparently told him that it was OK and that everybody makes mistakes and not to worry about it, which made him feel a lot better. Not a big interaction, but apparently it meant enough to her son for him to go home and tell his mother about it, and then for her to turn around and tell me about it at school.  Absolutely made my evening. He’s a good kid.