Certainly one of the most dreaded evenings on any teacher's calendar is Parent Teacher Interview evenings. Well last night was that night, and what a night it was. Most of the interviews went quite smoothly, as I must admit they normally do. Sure you always get your crazies. Towards the top of my list was Anxious Mother #457 who spent 12 minutes telling me how her daughter is not fulfilling her potential, not doing enough work and is getting fat, but she can't understand why her daughter is experiencing so much pressure that she is developing insomnia. It's a mystery, really...
However, in terms of firsts for me, last night was a big one. Never before in my teaching career have I uttered the words, "I'm really sorry, there's absolutely nothing I can do for your son". And yet, here I was in front of a student I shall call Meathead (I think the name pretty much explains a large part of the problem), his parents, Meathead Snr and Disempowered Mum, blatantly dashing all hopes for any academic success. Now let me be clear. I teach many bright kids and, like most teachers I also teach my share of idiots, but Meathead is a special sort of idiot. Meathead can't understand why it might be inappropriate to cut up his coke can with a pair of scissors in the middle of my lesson. Equally, he finds it incomprehensible as to why he can't take phone calls in the middle of class, after all, what are mobiles for? In fact, he believes I should attempt to ensure less noise in the classroom if he is compelled to answer his iphone. Meathead felt personally taken aback by my suggestion that he actually do some homework. He feels this would adversely impact on his (and I quote) "right to enjoy my childhood". Is he fucking kidding? His right to enjoy his childhood? He's eighteen for Christ sake! Granted, intellectually he is probably more suited to the comedic genius of programs such as "Australia's Funniest Home Videos" rather than our current study of "Citizen Kane", but nonetheless - "childhood"?! I almost choked on my lukewarm coffee and stale shortbread biscuit left over from the last Parent Teacher Evening. Meathead feels that once he's at Uni he will then begin any academic endeavours that may appeal to his pint sized brain. The question of how he's going to get to Uni has not, at this stage, even occurred to this little Einstein.
Meathead Snr appeared close to punching the fruit of his loins in the head. Disempowered Mum had tears in her eye. The maths teacher they had seen before me had to explain how Meathead had recently drawn an enormous penis on the classroom floor. She expressed how offended she was by the image and I'm pretty sure it wasn't because of its poor artistic quality. Meathead couldn't understand why she was offended, as he so eloquently put it, "What's your problem? You didn't have to touch it."
The way I see it I currently have three available options.
Option 1 - I rely on Meathead self-reflecting and searching his soul, beginning to feel guilty about the hell he's putting his parents through and experiencing a change of heart and mind. But I think we all know what my chances are of that happening.
Option 2 - I keep Meathead after school every day until he starts to do some work. But the work is half-arsed at best, he hates me for what he perceives to be punishing him and he purposely fucks up the exam to get back at me.
Option 3 - Leave Meathead to enjoy his "childhood" and pray to god I never have to each the fruit of his loins.
Option 3 it is.
