A-B-C Easy As Cold Fusion

Gosh do I have anything to talk about today? Other than blogger acting crazy?

Oh wait I do have something to post about! My son’s first day back to Middle School.
Oh what a day it was. 8th grade, top of the school and guaranteed a seat (in the back) on the bus. Nothing could stop him now, except his new English teacher and a confusing new schedule, fuck you very much MCPS!

I came home to find my once excited son in a damn panic state. What’s wrong you ask? Well I soon found out from the syllabus. Apparently, on the very first day the English teacher, who I imagine to be a pompous vertically challenged little fuck of a man has assigned a 350 word essay on value systems and how they relate in two ways to a pre-chosen quote. Not bad right? I mean it could be worse he could need sources. What if I told you its due tomorrow? So now, he has the misfortune of exploring how syntax applies to a particular quote he has never heard of, (which by the way was incomplete and very fucking obscure) relates to his own system of values, and how these values are supported by personal experiences that directly relate to the quote, by Thursday morning.

Sure that’s great oh and did I mention why I think he is a pompous fuck? This was his intro to the syllabus:

"knowing how the plot and characters are woven to create a story isn’t enough this year, you will need to understand the intricacies of each layer as well as how the underlying actions of each character and their behavior create and shape the story"

Yeah did I mention this was 8th grade??? What a jackass. There was more about how grammar and syntax would help to shape the scope of their projects and how certain actions were expected and necessary in order to fully complete the course to his satisfaction. There was also some bullshit paragraph about Aretha Franklin and Respect. I assume that was for my benefit as the parent cause no child of 13 could possibly have a good grasp of that song. It was pretentious to even roll that one out. So, I say this with pride. I can’t wait to cuss this fucker out.
There is one every year, and he is it. Some “I shoulda been a college professor” asshat, angry about not being respected and adored in his educational field. Last year it was his asswipe band teacher, who spent most of the time cussing at the kids and calling them stupid. The year before that, it was the smarmy fuck math teacher who told them how he didn’t have an issue failing any of them. Then it was Homegirl science teacher who couldn’t handle the class and decided to make them all call home even though only 3 of them were acting up. How do I know that? She told me, and then proceeded to tell me how the three kids who started it were juvenile delinquents whose parents didn’t care about them and how she knew they would all be in jail before 18.

Way to inspire and encourage! Shape those little minds and make them feel glad to attend school under your tutelage! So before anyone goes there, I am not anti-teacher. I am pro-teacher, I was raised by a teacher, and I have countless teacher friends who are all interested in giving their students the tools they need to succeed in life. I am an involved parent who helps with homework every night, and never misses a Parent Teacher conference. I call teachers and ask “How is he doing” or “what can I do to help” so please don’t pin that on me. It stands to reason that not all teachers are good teachers, and not all kids are doing what they are supposed to, but I will tell you that I am involved enough to know what is and isn’t happening with my kid, in his classes. It In the grand scheme, my son is just an average good kid. Doesn’t cause trouble, doesn’t have issues, always in class trying his hardest, even when he doesn’t understand it and my guess is with this guy it just wont be enough.

My son isn’t a genius, school doesn’t come easy to him, but he always gives it his all, and he tries to get the best grades he knows how, but things like this have proven to be much more damaging to his self esteem than boosting. Its horrible to come home after your first day with a big ass project that you have no idea how to start. Shit even in college they give you a week to get it done. I don’t want my son to hate school, but that’s where this is headed. If you could have seen the look of disappointment on his face last night, it would have broken your heart.

So no, I wont reserve judgment for this guy till the parent teacher conference in October. I just don’t give a fuck what his story is or why he thinks this is appropriate. Call me anything you want, but I am the one who has to go home and look at my child and say “don’t be discouraged”. I am the one who has to tell him that 8th grade isn’t horrible and that he wont get left behind because he doesn’t understand this shit. Sometimes teachers are just assholes and learning how to maneuver around them is the hardest lesson that year.

I wont even get into the rotating class periods by day thing where he goes to periods 1-5 on Monday, 6,7,1,2.3 on Tuesday and starts with 4 on Wednesday. That shit boggles the mind. Who thought that shit up? Shit who could remember that? Anyway, welcome to 8th grade 2006.