She Has A Way With Words
Yesterday I received a note from a parent. I don’t mind parent notes. In fact, I prefer a note to what seems to the alternative form of communication for parents at my school- bombarding me with questions at 7:58 in the morning while I’m just trying to pick up my class and go upstairs.
Someone needs to just put it out there, so I will…back up off my nuts at 7:58. It’s freaking early! And if I talked to every parent who had what they claimed to be a “quick question” before I went upstairs, our instructional day wouldn’t get started until at least 9:00. That is why we have free periods and after school – to meet with parents. In fact, the Visionary pretty vehemently discourages from having any sort of conversation with parents as we pick up our classes. He wants our asses upstairs and learning, STAT. And I have to say, I agree with him.
Would anyone ever charge a doctor in his office as he stepped through the door, shoving some sort of rash in his face and demanding an answer? No. The answer is no. One would not do that to a doctor, because it is gross (keep your rashes to yourself) and it’s just not how things get done. I would like to think that the same rules apply here, but evidently they do not.
Anyway, I got a note from a parent who wants me to call them. No problem, right? Um, WRONG. First of all, I have NEVER met this parent. They have NEVER responded to any of my notes or phone calls. They did NOT come to open school night or parent teacher conferences. I’m not even sure they know my name. Here was my biggest clue that my identity remains a mystery to them. The note read (and I quote):
Hey! Give me a call!
That’s it. No signature. No salutation. No reason. No name. Just a “Hey!” and a phone number. (In my head it sounds more like, “Haaaaaaay! Give me a call!” but whatever.) To me, it feels more like an invitation to meet up for a cocktail rather than a request for a meeting to actually discuss her son, but I don’t have many context clues to work with here.