In somewhat related news, someone please tell me I'm a good English teacher? I've been dealing with shit from a parent about her daughter's final exam (to which I had the audacity to "give" a C-). Maybe this falls in the "shit I didn't say" category: "Look, lady, your daughter's a sweetheart, but she's lazy her writing is impossible to follow." Sigh. It's been a long morning. I *hate* the end of the term.
Aw Kristin, I'm sorry. You're a great teacher.
I never know how parents have the nerve to protest something like a test grade. Ben's class does monthly book reports. He was out for the first two weeks of February, missing the usual time to pick a book and get teacher approval. He picked it the week he came back, and then the next week was February vacation. He read My Story, by Rosa Parks. Anyhoo, the report was due 2/27. We thought it was due 2/28 because it's always been the last day of the month before, but that was our fault for not double checking.
The book report included a craft project -- each student had to make a model of his/her book's main character out of a 2 liter soda bottle, a styrofoam ball for the head, yarn for hair, material for clothing, popsicle sticks for the arms, special styrofoam glue, etc.
Ben read his book, and did his written report but we didn't realize 'til the last minute that we didn't have one more day to do the project component. So I told him to pass in the written report and we'd get the materials for his project while he was at school.
The teacher wouldn't take the written report until he had made his little doll thing. It cost us like $15 in supplies, and because I was still so sick at the time, Scott had to leave work to get the stuff at the freaking craft store two towns away (and up the highway).
The teacher took a full letter grade off off the whole shebang. For a freaking doll. Yes, because making that doll taught this 11 year old boy so much about Rosa Parks and the Civil Rights Movement. @@
I could have reminded her he was out two weeks. I could have told her I was too sick to go to the freaking craft store. I could have told her I thought she was an idiot to not accept the written report (which is what demonstrates whether or not he read the damned book), but we just took the B and moved on. I no longer love this teacher, but she will never know that, never mind hear from me that she ought to change his grade. It's her prerogative. I think she's an ass for exercising it, given how much work he had to make up, and how sick he'd been (which she knew, because we'd stayed in contact), but it's still her prerogative.
Sorry. Don't know how that became about us. I thought I was over it, but I guess not.