STRANGE COMMENTS FROM STUDENTS' PARENTS

It is really something that some teacher, parent, student exchanges stay with you for the rest of your teaching career. Some are awesomely uplifting. Other incidents that transpire haunt and annoy for years, like Fred Flintstone's little alien, "The Great Gazoo". He was a wise-ass, little green man, that although helpful and wisdom-filled ET at certain moments, he could undermine and confuse Fred's best intentions, hilariously, at other times..

The strangest thing a parent ever said to me was in a confrontation where she accused me of calling her son a dog. She actually went to the principal and it was the principal that came to talk with me about this parent’s accusation. I was stunned. I did not recall any incident in which I called any student a dog. As we walked along the hallway to my classroom, I realized what inadvertently had happened.

I taught in a hands on science lab and we were in the middle of writing up plans for science fair projects. The students sat in long tables next to each other. I started on one side of the room of 35 students to go over their plans, offer advice and answer questions. Student one went very well. During talking with student two, student four began waving his hand in my face saying he had questions on his science fair plan. I told him that I would get to him. Moving on to student three, student four became even more aggressive, still waving his hand, almost hitting me in the face and and repeating over and over “hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” I turned to him, told him he would be next and to stop “yiping” in my face.

Da da da daaaaaaaaa. That was it, he went home and told his parents that I had called him a dog. I was merely telling him to stop and that I would get to him faster if he would quit waving in my face and insisting for my immediate attention. I had to grab his wrist to avoid being hit by him. The principal said she could see what happened, and that I needed to come up to the office and explain and apologize to his parents and brothers and sisters. I did, but I apologized that it was conveyed in such a way that it sounded as if I called him a dog, that I was sorry that was his perception, but that he was being rude and aggressively insistent that I give him my immediate attention.He and his parents seemed satisfied.

Friday, the next day, they were back demanding that I apologize to the grandparents and aunts and uncles of the boy. I did saying exactly the same thing. One of the males suggested that I might be racist. The entire school was African American and about five out of the 22 teachers were white. The principal explained that she did not have any other complaints racism and assured them I was an outstanding teacher and that it was a poor choice of words and nothing more.

Saturday, the next day, a van full of the boy’s cousins and friends drove up to the school. The principal was there working on the weekend. She thought that her friend had come to go out to dinner and opened the door. When she found out that they were back for more of an apology she told them “enough is enough”. that I had apologized, was not racist and that THIS was the end of it.

I later learned that I was not the only one to experience this family's response. The rest of the teachers' in the school, both Caucasion and African American, had experienced similar exchanges. The young man, never did finish his science fair project, turned in a poorly started project board, and and earned a barely passing grade for science. The year finished peacefully and the boy did not return. From then on, I chose my words very, very carefully. Choosing and remembering my exact words paid off in the same year and the in the same class that this student had been a part.

A young lady, also working on a science fair project sadly approached me to explain that she did not have access to a computer or printer at home on which to write and print out her science fair board papers. Her time on the computer at school was also limited. Feeling empathy for this ambitious student, I offered her to use my classroom computer to complete her assignment. She came to my room several times to work. I had classes most hours of the day, but I allowed her to use the computer so long as she did not disrupt my class. I was clear that I could not help her during the schedule class times, but I would be more than happy to assist her when I did not have a class.

She did forget, perhaps, that I had 35 other students to teach during almost any other hour of the day. She would come and go without an interruption. As the science fair deadline approached, she became a bit more urgent with her requests for help, and began approaching me, as I was demonstrating, teaching or doing labs with students. I reminded her of my obligations and rules. I would then offer to assist her between classes or my lunch or planning times. Most often, she would say, "never mind, I got it solved".

Science fair was just a week away, and I hadn't seen her for awhile. I was on the computer and decided to check her work. Much to my chagrin, there was nothing in her file. In fact, the information in every other file of mine and other students on that computer had been systematically deleted.

WOW!! I was not at a loss for my teaching files, as I had a backup system in place which I had used religiously. The other students were not so lucky. I guess no good deed goes unpunished. When I approached her to ask what had happened, she admitted she was angry that I would not stop and help her immediately when she wanted the help. She accidentally found out she had erased all her work and decided that no one else would get their work done either. Upset with her, I told her that she could no longer use my classroom computer. The next class, she appeared and went to use the computer. I had to stop my class, already in progress, and tell her not to touch my computer ever again. I ushered her out the door.

At the end of the day, I was summoned to the office, again. The principal reported that the girl had said that I had told her to "Keep her cotton picking hands off of my computer!" Seeing how I had 35 other students, another teacher and a teaching assistant in my room at the time of the incident, I called upon them to back me up and they obliged. She ended up confessing that she had made up the line, figuring I would get in trouble for a racist remark. She was THAT angry that I could not give her individual attention when she wanted it. Yes, she was African American, and she was a cousin to the young man in my previous story.

It is difficult to clear one's mind of false accusations, the anger they instill and move on and ahead. I am grateful for the hundreds of other positive interactions between parents, teachers and other students of all races that bolster me and up make my efforts worthwhile.