I had debated for a while if I was going to blog about this. Now that it is no longer fresh, I can look back on it, and check Momma Bear when she needs to be checked. I guess what I am trying to say is that I can be objective…
The third graders at their elementary school have have a party. It's huge. It's a big deal because the third graders are leaving and going to a new school for the fourth grade. Well Butter still hadn't been told if he was going or not. I went to the school to ask his teacher about it. Butter had told me a few things that didn't make sense, and I wanted his teacher to explain it to me.
I went up there after school had just let out. This was on a Tuesday. The party was that Friday. I had all four babes with me. His teacher came down and we went off to the side of the main hallway to talk. Little did I know that it was going to turn into a screaming match, after the teacher, the professional, would lose his temper with me.
First, I asked if Butter was going to the third grade party. The teacher (who shall now be referred to as Mr. A) said that he hadn't made up his mind yet. That Butter hadn't deserved the right to go yet. Then the crap hit the fan because I questioned him.
I don't remember all of it. It has been a week now, but I do remember some key points. Mr. A screaming at me about how Butter has taken away so much if his instructional time, how Butter had to be perfect for four weeks to be invited to go, how The Chef and I did nothing at home to correct his behavior at school. I called him out about how after a sit down with all of the important people things were supposed to change. I asked him what about the things that they were supposed to do for Butter. Then I told him to do his job and be his teacher. It was so loud, not only did my babes hear him, but the secretary poked her head out if her office to see what was going on.
At that point, I walked away from Mr. A. I told Butter to get his things from the classroom because he was done with school. Then I went to talk to the principal.
I sat in her office for two and a half hours. I told her about all the things that had happened over the course of the year with Butter. I told her how The Chef and I tried to talk to Mr. A. We told him how to get Butter to do things. I told her how when we would question something we would be ignored. That we never were told one time that Butter had a good day. I told her how Butter would get in trouble for tapping his pencil. I asked her if Butter was such a horrible kid why was he then making the Merit Roll? Why was he being invited out to lunch for doing well on the standardized tests? She of course couldn't answer me. And most importantly, I reminded her that Butter is a 9 year old little boy.
Her mouth did hit her desk when I told her that Mr. A expected Butter to be perfect for four weeks. She did smirk when I asked if Mr. A was having a bad day.
She told me there was two options: A) we could let Butter start Summer Break early. Grades were already in. B) we could sit down, Butter, Mr. A, her and me. I choose option A. I told her that I no longer trusted Mr. A; Butter could walk on water fir the last eight days, but sneeze sideways and Mr. A would rip off his head and crap down his throat. Mr. A was human, but I could not take that chance.
She apologized to me for the unprofessional behavior of one of her teachers. I want a formal apology that I know will not come.
All I know is that if Jelly or Pineapple are assigned to Mr. A's class when the time comes, I will demand a teacher change. I know that Banana is safe. Even if things didn't go down like this, they try not to have siblings with the same teachers the year right after each other.
Next year is a new school. Next year is a fresh start. But the first time… the very first time we get a complaint from a teacher… about this BS, we will pull him. I can not make him suffer like this year.