What Teachers Wish They Could Tell Parents

Yesterday I was having a conference with a parent after school.  Let's call her Billy's mom.  In the middle of the conference I had got up to retrieve a writing sample from his desk to show her when a former student (let's call him Matt) glided into the room and stood flush against the wall inside the closet.  

I gaped at him.  "Matt.  What are you doing?"

"I'm just trying to hide from Bobby."

"Matt...I'm in the middle of a meeting."  I nodded at Billy's mom.

"Oh.  Right."  He zipped back out.

You can imagine the look on Billy's mom's face.  I apologized on his behalf.  I let her know he was a former student.  There was so much more I could have told her about Matt, but of course confidentiality doesn't allow it.  And of course she wants to talk about her own child.  But the thing is, knowing Matt would have put Billy into perspective for her.

Although most of our conference was all about how Billy is making adequate progress, she was concerned when I told her about the first time we met as a small group to read a book together.  It was a book he'd read to himself before, and it was at his instructional level.  When he sat down to join the group he said to me, "I don't know why my eyes are wet." I told him that he could take a few minutes to get a tissue and or wash his face, then look over his books himself.  I could read a page with him later.  And I did, 20 minutes later.  And he was fine.  And the next time we met as a group he was fine.  Out of 50 days of school, this was the one and only time Billy got anxious enough to almost, but not quite, cry.  So when she told me she's worried about how anxious Billy is, I couldn't stop thinking back to Matt 4 years ago.

Matt cried almost every day for weeks.

Matt cried when he missed his mom.

Matt didn't want to go into the gym for the first few weeks.

Matt refused use the bathroom because other kids use the bathroom and it might have germs.

Matt didn't want to eat in the lunchroom because someone threw up in there once so he might get germs and get sick.

Matt didn't want to eat in classroom either after someone threw up in there.

When Billy's mom saw Matt she saw a fifth grader horsing around.  She didn't see him as a boy her son's age and height but about 15 pounds skinnier.  Trembling and crying. 

I'm not writing this because I think Billy has zero problems or because his problems don't matter because some kids have serious anxiety so his insecurities don't need to be addressed.  I had that discussion with her; I'm writing this for YOU. 

I'm sharing this because when Matt slipped into my room like he owned the place I felt an overwhelming sense of hope.  Sometimes we see these little first graders and worry so much.  They cry or have tantrums or hit people every day and we feel powerless.  Then 4 years later this kid is comfortable and confident and happy.  He has lots of friends, his mom is involved with the PTO (by the way she was anxious when I met her too; the family was new to the school when he started in my class).  And Matt is now in the Student Government at our school. 

One of the most painful things about being moved from fourth grade to first grade was the feeling of not knowing most of the kids in the school that first year.  I was eating lunch with a new set of coworkers who were talking about kids I didn't know and would never interact with.  Now I know nearly every kid in the school.  All those older kids used to sit in my room and listen to me read stories every other day.  And they still look 6 years old to me.  It was a rough adjustment for Matt.  And me.  But we've both grown an awful lot in 4 years.  And this year we both feel comfortable, confident, and happy.    

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