Posted by: laughs4dads | August 16, 2010

A Problem With Authority

For those of us who came of age in the late 60’s and early 70’s, in the years between JFK and KC & the Sunshine Band, there is likely to be a residual mistrust of authority. We remember Watergate and Vietnam as if they were in today’s newspapers. We even remember when people read newspapers.

Of course, at least where our kids are concerned, we are the authorities…the people over 30 who we swore we would never trust. But that’s not the problem. The problem is with other authority figures our kids encounter: the prissy teacher with the stick up her ass; the blowhard gym teacher; the asinine assistant principal.

You see, unlike our parents, who were from some alternative universe where people in schools, and law enforcement and government were good guys to be followed blindly, we came from the world of the dumb teachers in John Hughes movies, and the Chicago convention, and Richard Nixon.

So what are we to do when our child comes home from school complaining about a teacher or, worse, when a teacher calls home complaining about our kid?

Whose side are we on?

I always tried to be fair. I listened to both sides of the story, knowing that both sides were likely to be skewed. If Casey was in the wrong, so be it. But if she wasn’t, I went rogue.

I remember the year-long battle Casey had with her fourth grade math teacher. Sometimes you run into a combination of a subject, a student and a teacher where you know, by the third week of the school year, that it’s just not gonna happen. This was that subject and that teacher.

So this teacher called home to tell us that Casey had fallen asleep in class, which we already knew, because Casey had told us. Anyway, Casey was not one who could kind of melt away into slumber and no one would notice, because Casey snored like a rhino busting through some jungle brush.

So this teacher called, and started droning on about all the things that were wrong with my daughter. And I was transported back to junior high school history class and Mr. DiGangi who was truly a lunatic and I told Casey’s math teacher that I would talk to my daughter, but still she droned on, like my 5th grade Spanish teacher who was the most boring person on earth in any language, and I told Casey’s teacher that I really had to go now, but on she went in time to some metronome only she could hear while I recalled a high school gym teacher who once called me a “physical idiot” and, finally there was a pause, and I said I would handle it and I hung up and I said to my daughter, who was prepared for a scolding, “I don’t see how you can stay awake in her class at all.”

Was that wrong?

P.S. On a totally different subject, this is my 100th post, and this blog has really taken off. It is now read by tens of people!  Seriously, please tell your friends and subscribe so that I can enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that my posts are being read by hordes of folks with nothing better to do.  Thank you.



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