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         So, it’s a week after school’s ended and the kids are gone.  I am in the middle of cleaning up my classroom for the summer.  Piles of unfiled papers, leftover notebooks, art supplies, and paperbacks are strewn all over the floor.  Everything I see is a reminder of an event or a student from the past school year.  Some are good memories; others, not so much. 

As I clean, I spend a lot of time pondering what I "would of, could of, should of, done" better if only . . .

            In the midst of my reverie, my principal steps into the room to let me know she just received a call from a concerned 4^th grade parent.  (One of our ‘frequent fliers’, as we like to call those who are constantly distressed about something.)  Apparently, I said something in art class over a month ago that offended her 9-year-old son and it has taken her this long to call the school to complain.

            I remember the incident clearly.  Six boys were discussing the benefits of transferring to the public school.  They extolled the virtues of a shiny new building and were sure that everything there was perfect and fun.  I knew several of the boys in that group were planning to leave our school at the end of the semester.  I also knew several of the boys in that group had issues at home that spread to their school life, though ultimately the blame for their troubles in school were put onto the teacher and the principal.  I listened to this same group of boys praise the new school and demean their present school for about 20 minutes. 

            I finally decided to say something—not because I felt slighted but because surely, at 47 years of age, I had some wisdom to share.

I shared with them that if they were leaving our school because they were having problems, it was likely the same problems would follow them, suggesting they try to solve their problems in our school first and then make the move to a new school.

            Well, “Nick”* took my comment personally and told his parents and grandparents that I yelled at him and made him feel bad.  According to his mom, Nick was “very frustrated with my attitude” and felt like I “was picking on him.”   Further, his mother said she was surprised to hear him complain about me because she felt I was “one of the nice teachers!”  (I think there is a compliment somewhere in there but I am not sure.)

            I called Nick’s mom and explained the situation.  I let her know that I was not singling Nick out nor was I trying to hurt his feelings.  My intent was to help him learn a life lesson and to understand that the grass isn’t always greener in the next school yard.  I also apologized for any hurt I may have caused him and requested an opportunity to speak directly with him.  I wanted to clear the air so that if Nick does transfer to a new school, he would understand the teachers at his old school only wanted the best for him.  I wanted him to know he was loved. 

            So far at this writing, Mom hasn’t allowed me that opportunity to speak with Nick.  I don’t know what she has said to him about our conversation.  I figure what she’s told him is more of the same tune she has been singing all school year:  all of Nick’s behavior issues were my fault or the principal’s.    

            As I continue to go through my mental list of “would of, could of, should of's,”  I wonder how I should handle this kind of situation in the future.  Do I speak up and try to help a child understand a big life lesson?  Do I let the parents continue to blame the teacher and the school for problems her child is having?  Or do I turn on a deaf ear, a blind eye, and a mute tongue and pretend I don’t know a thing?

Margaret Anderson is the mother of three teenagers and a middle school teacher somewhere in the Midwest.  She is a regular ShareWIK.com columnist.

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