Once again, the most dreaded night of the school year is upon us—Parent-Teacher Conferences, or PTA for short. Though nothing about it is short.
Yes, your child’s education is important to you, but it’s important all year. Not just this one night that you don’t have time for so you can shlep in and spend an entire evening waiting in line like something good is going to happen and then having multiple quick conversations in a noisy room that are too short to accomplish anything. You’re mainly there to show the teachers that you care. That way, they can say, “Well, the parents care… I don’t know why the kid doesn’t.”
You want to show them you care, but you also don’t want to know about the things your child is doing in class that you can’t really do anything about or what nightly changes you need to make at home to help a teacher who’s going to be out of your child’s life in six months. So your goal is that the teacher should not tell you anything bad. Even if they have something bad to say, you don’t want to let them say it. You want to get in and out of there as fast as you can. And as someone who’s been on both sides of the table… Well, I don’t really have any tips. The teachers definitely don’t get to get out as soon as they can, especially since the last parents of the night want to take full advantage by talking to them until yeshiva starts again the next morning.
But I’m going to do what I can here, to help you at least feel prepared:
There are several different types of teachers, and your children will have one of each:
The teacher who does not have a single thing in front of him. No papers, no computer, nothing. It’s like he didn’t know there was PTA tonight when he showed up. You can’t remember the 6 grades your son got, but he remembers all of his students? And somehow this is never your kid’s favorite teacher. My wife always brings the report card along, in case the teacher has nothing. And that way we have something to discuss, in case there’s a lull in the conversation. “Well, why does he have a 73?” The guy doesn’t know. How’s he going to figure it out? He takes the report card from her, he turns it over, he frowns at it, he reads his meaningless teacher comment that was the same for every student… Then he makes something up, knowing that by the time you get home and your son denies everything, he’ll be long gone.
The rebbi who is sitting there learning in between parent meetings. You kind of feel bad talking to him, like you’re interrupting his seder. It’s usually a rebbi who has 10 students total, but they’re making him sit there for the entire PTA, so he said, “Well, then I’m bringing a sefer.”
Some non-Jewish teacher whose last name ends in -O. If it ends in O, you know they’re not Jewish. You can find him from across the room. This teacher will surprise you with terms like, “night seder” and “bekiyus” and other words the boys taught him, but he’ll still call your son “Yehiel.”
The teacher who has no idea who your kid even is. “If I don’t know him, he must be a good kid. I only know the troublemakers.” What a miserable existence. Alternatively, the teacher tries to pretend he does know who your kid is, but you see through it. And then later you tell your son, “Mr. Johnson had no idea who you are,” and your son says, “Yeah, I’m not in his class.”
The teacher who has the longest line, and no one knows why. Is he giving out free stuff?
The teacher who gives a compliment sandwich. This is when the teacher wants to say something negative, but they don’t want the parents to think they’re a negative person, despite only having five minutes to talk and not wanting to spend two of those minutes on compliments. So they rack their brain for two positive things to say about the kid and sandwich the negative thing between them, rather than making the most of your time by leading with the most important thing first, which I have to say usually isn’t the compliment. Also, a compliment sandwich is not really necessary for kids where there’s only one bad thing to say about them. In that case, there are a ton of good things. Most of the students you have to worry about this for are the kids for whom it’s not just tuna. It’s tuna, lettuce, tomato, pickles, cole slaw, hot peppers, more tuna, and no second piece of bread. It’s just an open-faced sandwich, and it’s dripping all over the place.
The teacher who doesn’t show up. Yeah, he has something tonight. “Oh, you have something? That’s so weird. No one else here has anywhere to be.”
The teacher who keeps getting your child’s first name wrong. I did that once. It was not my fault that these parents had a Sholom and a Shlomo 2 grades apart and they both looked similar and only ever wrote their last name and first initial on every worksheet and barely spent any time in class.
The teacher who already called you about a week or two before about an issue, and you’re basically meeting to confirm that no progress has been made on this issue on either end. You have nothing to say to each other. Everything was said last week. You’re like, “So how are you doing?” “Oh, how was your drive?”
The teacher who has a laptop which he turns around for you, so you can see all your child’s grades and the grades of everyone in his class. And this way, you can also notice how organized and conscientious the teacher is and what a good education your child is getting. Often this laptop says the name of a different school on the back.
The teacher who insists that the grades mean nothing and all the real stuff is what he’s about to tell you. “They don’t let me write in the report card how the kids are really doing,” he says. “Other people see that. So here’s the real scoop.”
Basically, you need some tips to make the most of conferences despite having 11 different kinds of teachers. There are lists of tips out there for teachers, so there might as well be a list for the parents.
Like one list of tips I was reading for teachers said, “Remember to have paper and pens available so parents can take notes.”
Let me tell you—no parent who didn’t bring a pen is taking notes.
“Your son doesn’t come prepared.”
“Oh, let me write that down. Do you have a pen?”
The list continued, “You also might want to have a box of tissues available for when you have to deliver bad news.” What kind of bad news has that kind of dramatic reaction?
“I have decided that your son will never amount to anything. Tissue?”
I feel like any news that requires tissues should have been delivered day of. We have phones.
Be cognizant of the time. For example, where I teach, my conferences are two hours long and the limit per parent is five minutes. That means that in two hours, I get to speak to almost two classes worth of parents. I teach 4 classes. That said, the quickest way for a teacher to get through the most parents efficiently is to say, “Your son is great and I have nothing to say.” Just the compliment, and the same one for every parent. Who’s comparing notes? The parents in line don’t hear you; they’re busy asking each other if they’re also in line.
Ask your child beforehand who his teachers are, and bring a piece of paper with all of the names on it. And subjects too, so you don’t have to ask, “So what do you teach?” because the teacher will misunderstand your question and explain his entire lesson plan, when all you wanted was something like, “Language Arts. Like the sign next to me says.”
If you’re there with a spouse, don’t both take notes. That’s weird. One of you should take notes and the other should ask good questions.
If the teacher brings up a behavior issue, try to act surprised. Even if you have to act surprised for the same behavior issue 11 times in a single evening. And even if you’ve clearly already seen the behavior grade on the report card.
When the teacher talks about a project, and you’re wondering, “What project?” don’t ask that. Maybe your spouse knows what the project is. Maybe come up with some secret way to ask them. Like if you’re both pretending to take notes, your note should say, “Did you know about this project?” and then you show it to your spouse, and she nods.
Get there early. The teacher wants to see you impatiently peeking through the little window on the door at the other parents. That way, he knows when he can wrap it up if they ask an uncomfortable question.
Come in with a compliment for the teacher. That’ll get him totally off balance. Preferably something about class, like, “My son is totally enjoying this unit on quadratic equations!” or “Everyone at home loves your worksheets!” Not something unrelated, like “My grandmother reads your articles!” or “Ooh, what a nice laptop! Where’d you get it?”
Don’t say “That’s okay, my son complains about you too.” That can be your little secret. n
Mordechai Schmutter is a weekly humor columnist for Hamodia and is the author of seven books, published by Israel Book Shop. He also does freelance writing for hire. You can send questions, comments, or ideas to MSchmutter@gmail.com. Read more of Mordechai Schmutter’s articles at 5TJT.com.
