Dialogue > Article > Meet the Parents

Being a teacher at an independent school is most definitely a blessing. Small class sizes, a keen population of students and abundant resources are some of the perks of the position. Involved parents are another characteristic of independent institutions; however, this characteristic can sometimes be a double-edged sword. Having parents as “paying customers” lends a whole new side to teaching. Also, some of our parents do not have to work and therefore having a parent whose full-time job is educational assistant to their child definitely creates some challenges for the independent school teacher. Over the years as both a classroom and learning resource teacher and a boarding house parent, I have had many contacts with parents. This article takes a tongue-in-cheek look at the darker side of the involved parent.
It has come to my attention that there are several subsets of well-intentioned parent types, whose behaviours create less than ideal learning situations for their children.
These parents can be encountered at all grade levels, though elementary teachers—because of the sheer volume of time spent with their students—may be more painfully aware of the impact of these parent types in their classrooms.
The behaviours described below can co-exist or can occur in isolation and vary in degree of severity from somewhat annoying at the lower end of the spectrum, to the other end, which can be described as, “you may very well have ruined your child’s ability to cope as an adult.”

The sabotager
We have all been in that awkward, somewhat ego-bruising situation, when little Johnny pipes up in the middle of instruction and says something like, “My dad says that poetry in school is a complete waste of time.” It is this type of parent that I call “the sabotager.” They disapprove of an aspect of your classroom instruction, an assignment or—in some more serious cases—the entirety of your instruction. Instead of speaking with you directly, they spend their family dinner hour in a litany of how they would do things differently.
Now, I am not saying that parents do not have the right to question what and how their child is learning but the problem with the sabotager is they never seem to confront you directly but rather have little Johnny act as the intermediary. I have also noticed a high correlation between absences at parent-teacher interview nights by sabotager parents.

The holiday vacationer
At independent schools we are blessed with lengthy holidays, but for this subset of parents, three weeks in March is not enough. So inevitably, a few days before break, which is also the time you have scheduled your term end assessments, an e-mail appears, saying that Suzie will be leaving three days early for her chateau tour of Europe. While I am very glad that Suzie is going on a chateau tour and I truly believe in the value of experiential education, I also am under some pressure to see if Suzie knows her poetic devices. So Suzie’s poetic devices quiz ends up occurring over lunch hour, as I consume yet another lunch consisting of somewhat stale Starburst taken from my motivational candy desk drawer.

The micromanager
This type is usually a parent who really takes their parental role as a full-time job. They start each day with a four- to five-paragraph e-mail to the teacher outlining the riveting homework routine from the night before. These e-mails often include cute anecdotes about something clever their child said and innocuous suggestions of how you could better tap into their child’s intellectual prowess. Sometimes the e-mails contain suggestions, such as, “Could you please remind George to eat at recess. He often forgets to snack and is slightly hypoglycemic.”
The micromanager’s communication with you cannot possibly be limited to the constraints of the parent-teacher interview. Therefore, several one-on-one meetings are required to help you better understand the very unique needs of their child. Micromanager parents are easy to spot, as they can often be found crouching in front of their child’s locker on a weekly basis doing a little sprucing up.

The note writer
Another subset of parents is the note writer. Notes can range in topic but often contain an excuse as to why Michael could not complete his homework. Usually the homework is incomplete because of a somewhat vague family outing.
This note is very effective because it creates an immunity shield around the student. You cannot possibly expect Michael to be prepared or contribute to the review of homework because he has a note.
The other day, I tried to get my husband to write a note to my head of school explaining that my lesson plans were a little lacklustre because of my attendance at the Sex and the City movie. Needless to say, this strategy, while it does buy you time in the classroom, is not that applicable in the adult world.

The project completer
We have all witnessed the work of the parental project completer. In midst of a number of crudely created, slightly lopsided Egyptian pyramids, there it stands—carved from marble, adorned with hieroglyphics, in perfect proportion—the Pantheon. It resembles a professional architectural firm’s mock-up more than a Grade 7 humanities project.
The yearly science fair is often this parent’s real moment in the sun. After passing multiple trifold poster boards with crookedly pasted note cards, bubble letter titles and sickly plant seedlings in plastic cups, you arrive at the working hydro-electrical turbine, which is accompanied by a documentary film on “the making of.”
The most interesting thing about this parent sub-type is that, in my entire career, I have never had a parent admit to more than cursory involvement in projects. Even when I have commented on how it must have been bonding for the parent to work so closely with their child on the project, the response is always, “Well, this is really Suki’s work. She was completely in charge.”
This response is especially interesting when, as Suki’s classroom teacher, you know she has trouble navigating the electric pencil sharpener.

The activist
As a middle school teacher, I try to design each assessment tool with clear criteria and transparent grading schemes, but every once in a while, I am confronted by what I have termed “the activist.” This parent is an expert at creating spreadsheets and statistical analysis. They know that the headmaster’s honour roll is awarded to the top 10 academic averages and they know that their child’s recent score of 9.5 out of 10 on a science test could prevent their child from achieving this apex of academic achievement.
Every 0.5 lost becomes of dire importance and as a teacher you must have a bullet-proof defence as to why the child has not received full marks for their response. When marking the work of the child of an activist, a teacher must ensure they are in a distraction-free, hyper-alert state because of the risk of miscalculation of a grade. If, by chance, a mathematical error is made, this parent type will pounce upon you like a cheetah on a lame gazelle.

The delivery van driver
This category amazes me the most, especially with current fuel costs. When I was young, if I forgot something at home, I would have rather walked on fire than call my parents to ask for delivery. Yet, today it seems like the mid-day delivery is a perfectly acceptable option.
One day, I happened to overhear a student on the telephone in the school foyer asking his parent to deliver a water bottle at lunch for his pick-up touch football game. Ten minutes later, a well-groomed parent stepped out of a shiny SUV with an ice-filled water bottle. The child met the parent in the foyer, grabbed the bottle and, with a cursory mumbled “thank you,” trotted off to the field. The parent smiled, somewhat sheepishly and murmured something about the importance of hydration.
My meaningful glance at the water fountain seemed to go unnoticed.

The impact of these parent types on child development
While this article is written in jest, there is a more serious aspect to these behaviours. For instance, being a sabotager gives a child the message that it is perfectly acceptable to criticize people behind their backs. By allowing a child to miss school for holiday or writing notes to excuse a child from homework, the implication is that school is not that important. Perhaps the most serious of the parent behaviour subtypes is the parent who is continually there to do the job that should belong to the student. Completing projects, advocating for marks and doing the daily delivery of forgotten items takes the onus off the student. For every time a parent swoops into the responsibility zone of their child, the child gets the message that they are either not accountable or not capable of solving their own small problems. The intention of the parent may be to be helpful but the prolonged repetition of these parental behaviours actually creates helplessness.

The art of Zen confrontation
Because these parents’ behaviours can actually impede a child from developing the skills of character, dedication and responsibility, it is important to try to hinder the existence of these parental behaviours.
How as a teacher do you work successfully with these types of parents?
Thankfully the answer is quite simple, not easy, but simple. I suggest that one of the most important teacher skills is the art of totally non-emotional confrontation. This skill takes practice, but once mastered, it is highly applicable in all aspects of life. Here is how it works.
The next time you receive the third excuse note from Johnny, or see a lab report that has been completed by someone’s engineer parent, or you receive the fifth e-mail of the day about little Suzie, you start by taking a deep breath. Then I find it is helpful to have a mantra that goes something like, “I am a deep, still body of water.”
After you have found your centre, you seek out the parent, ideally for a face-to-face conversation, but the telephone is acceptable. E-mail is not acceptable because non-emotional e-mails are often interpreted as emotional, even if you don’t use caps lock or bold features. In the discussion that follows, it is important that you remain a “still body of water,” while explaining to the parents that while it is obvious that they care a great deal for their children (as do you), their actions (be specific but non-judgmental) are actually hampering the growth of their child’s independence and sense of personal responsibility. Not all parents respond well initially but by non-emotionally naming the behaviour, the chance of reducing its existence increases infinitely more than not saying anything at all.
I have been completely amazed by the success rate of this type of Zen confrontation. In a society that has lost the ability to call a spade a spade and instead seems to rely on complaining without doing, the development of this skill will not only empower you as a teacher, but will make you a better spouse and parent.
So go ahead, next time you see Polly, the project completer, walking down the hall, take a deep breath and ask if she has time for a chat. You may be amazed at the results.