Prepare to be shocked and appalled. Ready?
Remember Mrs. Sheets? We were discussing M. Peevie's educational plan with the principal and the second grade teacher. During the discussion, Mrs. Sheets actually said, "M. Peevie is not unique." Oh, M. Peevie is bright, she agreed--but there are several other very bright kids in her class.
What kind of a teacher says something like that to a mother? Oh, hey, I know! One that is completely without the common sense she was born with. She might as well hand me a note that says, "Would you mind very much kicking my ass? I am dying to have you knock me to the ground and stomp on my trachea."
Mrs. Sheets--wait; you know what? I'm going to give her an honorary Ph.D. She's now Dr. Sheets.
So Dr. Sheets also said, "We don't want M. Peevie going around thinking that Mrs. MiPi doesn't have anything to offer her, or that she's too good for second grade, so please stop giving her these messages." Oh yes, she did. Because she has personally heard me telling M. Peevie to disrespect her second grade teacher.
I'm not even done yet. This one will make you shudder at the sheer audacity of it. At one point, Dr. Sheets said, with mind-boggling arrogance, "It's fine for us to talk here in this room about how to keep M. Peevie challenged, but these are not things that you should be talking to her about."
Yes, indeedy. She was telling me what I could and could not talk to my daughter about. And you all know how I feel about That Uncrossable Boundary.
I did not respond well in the pressure of the moment. I did not call Dr. Sheets on even one of the unbelievably insensitive things she said. I nodded my head, and once or twice I said something defensive.
I wish I could go back and script a witty, articulate, and pointed--yet Christianly appropriate--response that would have her realizing her clumsy insensitivity and humbly asking my forgiveness. (What I should wish for is the desire to forgive her, the desire to show her mercy. Give me a day or two.)
But what I will do is ask Mrs. MiPi to limit M. Peevie's interaction with Dr. Sheets, because I do not trust her. We will do just fine without enrichment, thank you very much.
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4 comments:
I wouldn't say limit. I would say eliminate it. I reacted strongly to this post. I know exactly how you feel. I've kicked myself in the a$$ for not speaking my mind this summer over my daughter's dance camp. And scripted witty, clever statements that garnered applause from the other onlooking parents for days after that. You've obviously done plenty of enriching on your own, seeing as to how she's above her reading level already. You want to keep reading as an enjoyable activity. She's got you for that. She doesn't need no stinkin' Sheets! Now start circulating a petition to have this woman replaced.
Elbee--yeah, I think you're right: Eliminate it. "She don't need no stinkin' Sheets!" (Good line.)
I'd love to take credit for M. Peevie's brilliance and advanced reading level, but it's 100 percent her. She's internally motivated to learn, which is great, because I am definitely not a teacher.
Gee Mrs. Peevie, I may have to cancel my subscription to The Green room. Did you truly say this to your daughter? And in the presence of Dr. Sheets? Am I missing the larger context?
"Because she has personally heard me telling M. Peevie to disrespect her second grade teacher."
Lovingly, but concernedly, Bucky
Sarcasm, Bucky; sarcasm.
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