At one point, I thought I knew everything going on in my children’s lives.
After all, I was an involved parent. I kept them busy, made sure their grades were up, and most of all, I listened. Sometimes the listening is tricky, especially with teens.
Still, I always got an ear full, even things I didn’t want to hear.
Teachers have the capacity to change students’ lives. Either positive or negative.
But what amazes me now are the stories that emerge. Now that they are all grown, they gather around and tell stories that are sometimes shocking.
Like when my son and a friend were crawling through the air conditioning vents in the high school. What possessed these boys to do this still baffles me. It gets worse! His friend fell through the ceiling and crashed into an English class.
“What did you do?” I asked, horror on my breath.
“I crawled backward. Really slow and really quiet.”
Of course, I didn’t get a call from the school, so I assumed my darling was sitting in his photography class learning about light and filters and such. Boy, was I wrong.
But a story recently emerged that broke my heart. I am fully aware that my children aren’t perfect, but I am proud that as a single mother I have raised three college educated, non-drug addicted children who are all gainfully employed and not a drain on society.
That is a parent’s dream.
What disturbs me is what my thirty-year old son told me the other day.
He pursed his lips, the story obviously painful. (I am going to make up the teacher’s name here, but I really shouldn’t.” I am going to call her Miss Devil.
“Miss Devil told me I would never amount to anything,” Nathan muttered. He paused then. “You know, Mom. I could probably buy and sell her with my cash on hand. I could buy her car, her house, every possession.”
Although I am proud of my son’s success in business, my poor wounded bird who had dyslexia and auditory processing issues as a child, I am mortified at Miss Devil.
How dare she talk to a child like that? Some might argue that she might be the reason for my son’s success, that her harsh words pushed him to success. But I would argue that she most certainly wasn’t. And, even if she was, how many other kids did she ruin? Destroy. Shred to pieces.
High school is hard enough. Teens literally are shedding dendrites in their brains and it is hard enough without teachers like Miss Devil. With boys, it’s even more difficult when they have that awful surge of testosterone, that stupid hormone that makes them want to do stupid things like crawl through air conditioning ducts.
For all the Miss Devils out there, shut your mouths and choose a different profession. Your scars run deep and you are nothing but a mean, pathetic person.