Skip to main content

Secret Sauce

I went to four parent teacher conferences at my daughter's school last night. Wednesday morning I have three more. Why? Because I can. Because I want to touch base with them and see if there is anything they want me to know about how my child is doing.

And I want to thank them.

Overall my daughter has been very positive about her classes this year. That matters a lot to me. We seem to have achieved the right balance of work expectation, interest in subject, supportive environment, support from the teacher. Anyone who has a student in high school these days knows that can be hugely difficult to achieve.

What I learned from my conferences last night is that my daughter's teachers have a good handle on who my daughter is but they're open to learning more. They love the subject they teach and they want to pass that love along. They have insight into how my daughter can grow. They can give me examples on how she interacts with peers in a classroom setting.

Wow, they are good.

They had a computer printout of her grades for me if that's what I wanted to talk about, but they didn't make it the only thing up for discussion. Thank goodness. I wanted to talk about how to support my kid becoming an independent learner, to challenge herself, and to be a better advocate for herself, because that's what she will need to have within her once she graduates from high school and leaves home.

It's possible that I was the only parent they saw that didn't care two hoots about grades and GPA. If I was, they didn't let that phase them. I really, really appreciate that.

Friends, take a moment in your conferences (if you have them) to thank your child's teachers. They are the driving force, the relationship-builders, the secret sauce of the educational experience. It's not fancy and expensive surveys, tests, iPad programs, or Central Office initiatives.

It's the teachers.

When you sit down to dinner on Thursday, make sure you give thanks for them. But don't forget to tell them in person.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Teacher Gifts

Today is the last day of school before the Winter Break. It’s a good time to remember the far-reaching nature of our public school system. You may not have children. You may have sent your children to independent schools. It matters not. You will be impacted one way or another. Yesterday I read a long thread on Facebook about several waves of illness in the schools right now. There’s influenza A and norovirus, I believe. And of course there’s COVID. Apparently in some individual schools the rate of illness is high enough for school admin to notify parents.  When I was little the acceptable holiday gift for a teacher was one of those lovely floral handkerchief squares. (I don’t know what it was for male teachers. They were rare in my elementary years.) These days the range of teacher gifts is wider and I have fond memories of Target gift cards which I have written about before. I think it’s safe to say that giving one’s teacher Influenza, norovirus, or COVID is not the ideal holiday...

They Can Wait

This is not a typical Saturday post. That’s because, in my community, it’s not a typical Saturday.  Oakland Mills High School, after years of deferred repair, needs massive renovation. It’s pretty simple: when you don’t fix a problem it gets bigger. The school system itself said the the OMHS school building was  "no longer conducive to learning" back in 2018.  2018 .  But Thursday the Boad of Education voted to push it out of the lineup of important projects which will be given the go-ahead to proceed soonest.  In my opinion it’s a terrible decision and sets a dangerous precedent. To explain, here’s the advocacy letter I sent in support of Oakland Mills High School. I was rather proud of it. I am writing to ask you to proceed with needed renovation at Oakland Mills High School in the most timely and comprehensive manner humanly possible. I have read the letter sent to you by the Oakland Mills Community Association and I am in complete agreement. You are extremel...

Columbia Chance Connection

  Last night, as my husband and I were about to sit down to dinner, our front door swung open and a cheery voice announced, “I’m ba—ack!”  We weren’t expecting anyone. Clearly the only people who’d walk right in to our house would be one of our offspring. I had my reading glasses on so I wasn’t seeing too clearly. It seemed too tall for our youngest, but we knew our eldest was at work. I took off my glasses to see a friendly but confused face scanning our living room. When her gaze landed on us we all had a sudden realization. We didn’t know eachother. “Oh I’m so sorry! I’m in the wrong house! My daughter just moved in and she needed hooks for the kitchen so I ran out to get them.” She waved the package. “All these houses look the same and I don’t know the neighborhood yet. I thought this was my daughter’s house.” We were all getting a bit giggly. “That’s okay. For a quick second we thought you were our daughter,” said my husband. I told her our names and said she should defin...