Forgiveness

There's a scene in This is 40 where Leslie Mann's character loses her shit at a 13-year old as he's walking to class. The boy has supposedly been harassing her daughter online, and Mann unloads. It's a comedy, of course, and would be completely inappropriate in real life, but I identify with the mother bear syndrome. Mann tells the boy he looks like a miniature Tom Petty and threatens that if he messes with her daughter again she'll come down to the school and fuck him up. (Melissa McCarthy's subsequent performance as his mom in the principal's office is gold).

Earlier this week I observed one of our school's college-aged aides chastise my son for waving a stick in the air after dismissal. The young man didn't see me, but I thought he was unnecessarily sharp. C wasn't threatening anyone with the stick, he was just swinging it around as we started toward home. I didn't say anything, because I wasn't sure if C noticed. Maybe the young man had a tough day, I thought, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Yesterday, we saw the same young man leave school with his mother; apparently she is also a teacher or aide. C was visibly uncomfortable at the sight of him, and I gently tried to ask him about it on our walk home. He shared (amazingly) that this particular helper always yelled at everyone in his class. C is six and was only sharing his perspective, which, as a kindergartener, at times contains hyperbole, but I could tell he was genuinely upset. Plus, I had witnessed the young aide's impatience first hand.

It's a hard balance as a parent to teach your children to be respectful of their teachers while also letting them know that you trust them and want them to come to you if something is amiss. I stewed as we gathered B's materials for play practice. We started driving to the theater when I noticed that said aide's car was parked outside a local store. His mom was apparently inside picking something up. I parked my car, put the blinker on, and got out. To be clear, I would never swear at or harass anyone, particularly someone so young, but I did want to share my concerns and find out more about the situation. Right venue? Not at all. Thank goodness I ended up changing my mind and returning to the car. Because internally, I was raging. No one is perfect, no one has endless patience, but if you are working with young children in an authority position you'd better believe I'm going to hold you accountable for how you treat my child. I'm happy to say that ultimately my good angel prevailed and I calmly emailed my concerns and questions to C's teacher and principal. But god how I identified with Leslie Mann.

I am also proud with how I handled myself this morning. I think most of the staff at the elementary school is fantastic, but unfortunately, during the past two years I've arrived at the end of the school year extremely jaded. There are so many flaws in the special education system and so many communication errors and missteps that I'm simply happy to be done on the last day. I'm not inclined to get all touchy-feely or give presents to people who, I feel, failed my child significantly at times. But this morning I drank my coffee and tried to practice gray thinking instead of black and white thinking. I considered the education and structure that C's team provided him, however imperfect. And I wrote notes from the heart and wrapped presents for my students' teachers. Because they did show up every day, and I know they did their best, as did I, and as did C. Go us.