YouTube Fail Videos

I found myself in The Principal's Office for different reasons growing up-- receiving accolades and awards, having been spit on by a boy I was tragically in love with (that was the day the Juliette in me packed her bags and left me to my own devices), and one time because I witnessed a fight between two kids that I didn't know, so I got to be an impartial witness. That was cool.

I'm also a teacher. I've been in The Office to get my yearly evaluations, which always end with "You're making great connections with your kids, Elizabeth. You care and because you care, they do."  That's a big deal when you teach high school English, by the way. 

I mean, when I go to dinner parties (hahahahahaaaaa, that's a lie. I don't ever go out, least of all to dinner parties. hahaa Oh that's a killer.). Ha. Phew. Ok. So when I meet new people, randomly, at the library or while shopping for bananas, and they ask me what I do, I say I teach high school.  I don't usually even tell them what subject I teach because as soon as they do, whoever it is abruptly stops talking to me as though I've got my red pen poised and am marking their every word in giant, fat, bleeding Xs. 

This is pretty much the beginning of every email I get.

I'm not kidding. I suppose if I were to be in some calculator conversation with a Maths teacher I might be all, "Man, my Cos is pretty angled because of the root of the hypotenuse, so, like, don't hate me, ok? But here's my question-- if a train leaving Chicago at 6am ..." Blardy blar blar. 

But I've just made an after lunch appointment to meet with the principal. See, Kiddo #1 has been having problems with a kid at school.  I have been assured several times over the past 6 months that this isn't "bullying" and that this kid "targets everyone" but that "Kiddo #1 seems to get most of it." I'm a strong proponent to self-advocacy, so I have been encouraging her to speak with her teacher about these incidents.  We've had a couple conversations with Teacher ourselves about it. Yesterday, though, she was spit on.  It's now time to move up the food chain; spitting is inexcusable, I don't care if you're four or four hundred.

So. So. So. 

I went into the school for the second time in two days, today. 

I spent the entire time Kiddo #2 was in nursery school this morning, to ready myself. That is to say, I put on my best outfit from my days as a ballroom dancer, did my hair and make-up, added the proper sequins and double-sided tape and put on my waltzing shoes.   I started out in my more dramatic Cha-Cha outfit but, frankly, I wasn't sure that I would be taken seriously with the giant, fake birthmark on my upper lip, so I changed. 

 What do you think of our porcelain skin? Jealous much?

 

Into my waltzing dress I dove-- Here's a picture of Husband and I at the last championship Ballroom Dancing competition we did.  We took home the gigantic trophy that night. It was truly magical. I put my hair in that bun, took the flouncy dress out of storage. While I did that I went over my speech and how I was going to address our issues at the school. I figured the dress would at least get their attention, and certainly point to the severity of spitting. 

I went in the day before, which was the day of the spitting incident-- but I didn't know about the spitting at the time. I was just checking in about the Bully and how anxious my daughter was because of Bully's behaviour.  

Yesterday, I was so polite. Yesterday, I was smiley. Yesterday, I was positive and very eager to make the situation go away.  Between all that happiness and the Principal not really wanting to deal with the situation, I left, ironically, feeling pretty hostile. I asked what we could do to help at home, but I didn't ask what they were doing at school. I mean, I had what my daughter was telling me (and I was then interpreting) but she's not an adult. I needed to hear from the Principal and I wasn't offered that information, nor did I ask. 

So, later that day, as I sat at home seething because I felt that nothing changed, I realised that all negotiations are like learning dance steps.  You say one thing, they return with another blardy blar blar. I just needed to be dancing the same number as the Principal for everything to get resolved.  

I had Husband call in and make the appointment for me for today (I didn't want them to recognise my voice and be on to me), I got Kiddo #1 to school on time, got Kiddo #2 to nursery school and returned home, smug as a bug in a rug. Or whatever. 

Random note: If you are going to don an elaborate waltz dress and need to get somewhere, you should consider a few things first: 1) Is your car clean enough to enter without leaving dirty black marks on the dress?  2) If not, have you figured this out BEFORE getting dirty black marks on your dress? 3) If not, do you have a Shout stain-erasing pen? 4) Once you've erased the stains, is there a bus that happens to go right by your house, and with fewer than 3 transfers before you arrive at your destination?  

If the answer is no to most of the above, then you should really call for a cab and save yourself quite a bit of aggravation and Shout pen. 

3.5 hours later, I finally arrived at the school. Thank heaven I was able to leave Kiddo #2 with another mommy or this would have been entirely impossible. 

I waltzed (quite literally) into the office. 

I said, "Hello everyone. I just want to let you know that I've told my daughter that if she is bothered by anyone ever again, while at school, she is to retaliate with any physical or mental force she deems necessary.  I told her hitting, slapping, pushing, kicking and, newly added to the list, spitting, are encouraged and promoted while at school, and especially with Bully."  

The front office staffers pooped their collective pantses and The Principal ushered me quickly into her office and closed the door.

Her:  Mrs. Kiddo#1! I cannot believe you would tell your sweet daughter to really do that!

Me: Well, I can't believe you'd tell me to toughen her up and make her less sensitive and expect anything less.

Her:  Mrs Kiddo#1! You can't tell her to hurt other children!

Me: Why not? It seems to be the way we do things here.

Her: Mrs. Kiddo#1! What do you mean?

Me: Well, Bully, in her class, you remember him? That kid that is constantly getting red cards for pushing, slapping, kicking, and, as of yesterday, spitting on other kids, and especially my daughter. Well, since he's allowed to do it to his classmates so I figured you encourage this type of behaviour.

Her: Mrs Kiddo#1! How could you think that?

Me: Well, because I didn't even find out that he spit on her from the school. She had to tell me, so you must not think that is unusual or terrible.

Her: Spitting is a very grave matter.

Me: Well, not anymore. I've toughened her up and made her less sensitive. We watched YouTube Fail videos all night, so now she thinks people like to hurt themselves and she is ok with it.

Her: I cannot believe you mean this.

Me:  Why not?

Her: This is a school! If we permitted students to just run around and hurt their peers, this place would be no better than a zoo. An angry zoo!

Me: Huh. Hadn't thought of that. Oh well. 

Her: Have you been drinking?

Me: Yes. I've been drinking from the well of the Golden Rule. Do unto others as they've done to you.

Her: I think you have that wrong.

Me: Oh. Well, I'm not concerned with semantics.

Her: You should be. I cannot believe you would tell your daughter to hurt another child!

Me: Oh, there's one more thing.

Her: What could you possibly add?

Me: I do not expect any repercussions from the school when she does this. 

Her: That is not possible. 

Me: Oh, yes. Yes it is.

Her: I can't just not punish someone when they hurt another one of my students.

Me: You don't punish her Bully, ergo, you will not punish her when she acts accordingly to get him to stop. You can give her all the red cards you need to, but if I hear of any other action taken about her behaviours I will seek litigation.

Her: What? What?

Me: Oh, yeah. Sorry about that one-- forgot to mention that if you get her into any more trouble than simply putting her in the hallway for the day, I will be forced to sue the school for taking away my child's educational opportunity. 

Her: But what about Bully's? What about her classmates? Don't they deserve the right to an education?

Me: Once again, your inaction has sealed your casket, Princi-pal.  Bully has been disrupting the class since the beginning of the year. No one in that class has been getting an adequate opportunity, least of all my daughter. So you can't claim her retaliation is any more or less intrusive. 

Her: I am calling the police. And Children's Services. 

Me: Oh, yeah. Right, you can't do that either, sorry. I'm protected because I'm, now, officially insane. Ta-da!

(wee tap-dance motion as I shuffle out the door)

End Scene. 

Blardy Blar Blar.