Last week, I received a call from Chad's English teacher, letting me know he'd had four "referrals" and, as a result, would be getting an after-school detention. She said he had not been mean-spirited or rude, per se, but rather disruptive. We seem to be having a little of the Class Clown stage going on this year. Lots of talking out of turn and showing off, all (I presume) to earn the approval of friends.
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I was horrified, of course, and apologized up and down. After we hung up, I had an idea: If Chad couldn't behave in the classroom (this isn't the first time I've gotten one of these phone calls, incidentally)--maybe he needed a babysitter. Gee, maybe that babysitter could be ME!
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Isn't that every middle schooler's worst nightmare--to have his/her mother appear in the classroom?
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I quickly called back. The teacher agreed it was a fabulous idea, and we made plans for my little visit to take place.
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Thursday finally came. Class started at 12:50, so I nonchalantly walked into his classroom at 12:55. The teacher gave me a cheerful, "Hello!" and went about her business. I took a seat at a nearby table. A few of his friends waved to me; others just stared. I realized Chad was on the outside row closest to me, just several feet away.
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"MOM," he half-mouthed, half-whispered, "What are you DOING HERE?" Loud enough for a few of his nearby classmates to hear, I cheerfully whispered, "Well, I thought I'd stop by to observe your behavior!" Sugar couldn't have melted in my mouth. I was taking great pleasure in all of this.
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Chad looked at me, and then I watched the life drain out of him as he slumped into his chair. I almost felt a little sorry for him, for a moment or two. Notice I said almost.
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A few minutes later, though, he'd somewhat recovered, and he was able to give me a quick smile here or there, in between listening quite intently to the teacher. Of course, he behaved like a complete angel. The same angel I know who lives in my home. I have such a hard time envisioning his being disrespectful, because he knows he could never get away with it at our house. My heart hurts knowing he somehow thinks it's okay to act like that anywhere. I have to wonder where I went wrong; when did I ever let him think it's okay to not completely respect authority and rules? I thought I had instilled that over and over again. I've even said, "Be the child who really makes teaching seem worthwhile." What more can I do? I guess, no matter how hard we try, our kids have minds--and consciences--of their own.
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All in all, the visit went well. The teacher was grateful I'd come; she said she'd called four of the other parents, and two seemed like they hardly cared and the other two never even returned her call. Says a lot about why kids are the way they are today. (SELF-CENTERED. But that's a rant for another day. I have lots of rants; have you noticed?)
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I promised Chad that if I ever got another phone call, or any indication that his behavior was less than stellar, I would most definitely return. In fact, I could even eat lunch with him and his friends! I could wear a miniskirt and bring my boom box, and we could hang out on the quad! Just like my friends and I did in the 1980's! How bitchen would that be?! Like, ohmagawd, TOTALLY rad!
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Somehow, I think this is going to work more effectively than all of the lectures, privileges taken away, and everything else tried in the past.
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Somehow, I think, this time is going to stick.
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