parents' night: a rite of fall

Another round of Parents’ Nights has come and gone, and by all indications, this annual rite of September was once again an unqualified success. Although it was another evening out in an already busy month, it’s my belief that everyone involved – faculty as well as the folks who have entrusted their children to us – welcomes the chance to share the time together.

“It’s a great opportunity to meet your child’s teachers and advisor,” said Marsha Williams, president of the Parents’ Association. “A real benefit is learning first-hand the flavor of the school.”

In the Middle and Upper Schools, moms and dads followed their children’s schedules and heard each teacher give a 10-minute presentation. Lower School classes are self-contained, so teachers had 40 minutes – an eternity to some, a snap of the fingers to others – to explain everything from snack to dress code to curriculum.

Regardless of the format, the premise under which faculty operate is the same on both sides of the creek. Yes, it’s important to give parents some sense of the material their children will learn. It’s nice to talk about quizzes and tests and projects. It’s fine to mention textbooks, field trips, and homework expectations.

What they really want to know, however, has little to do with the minutiae of everyday classroom life. It has everything to do with the person who stands before them. Is he (or she) knowledgeable? Enthusiastic? Dedicated? Organized? Positive? Approachable? Will he challenge their child without overwhelming him? Is there energy in the classroom?  Is there compassion? Is honor a priority? Is he giving only facts to be returned on a test or imparting knowledge that will be helpful outside the cinderblock walls?

Will he get to know their child on a personal level, understand his strengths and weaknesses, and pull the very best from him? Will he teach their child anything of value – the hidden curriculum, we call it – beyond the actual subject matter?

Keith Evans, head of Collegiate, hears a lot about Parent’s Night. The best-case scenario, he explains, occurs when a parent says to him, “Gosh, I wish I could take that class.”

“You know you’re onto something special,” he added, “when parents get excited about what their kids are learning.”

My first Parents’ Night occurred in 1972. I wore a sartorial concoction that makes me cringe today:  brown and tan saddle shoes, burgundy bell-bottom trousers, striped shirt, very wide, patterned necktie, and plaid sport coat. A yearbook photographer even recorded the moment.

As I took my place before a sea of unfamiliar faces, I saw a generation my parents’ age.  They called me by my first name.  I called them Mr. and Mrs. So-and-So. The evening was a blur. No one removed his son from my class, though, so I guess I passed my initial test.

Now, I look into the audience and see parents much younger than I.  Some are my former students.  Many others I’ve known for years. Even more with older children have heard my spiel before. I call them by their first names. Far too many call me Mr. Bradshaw.

Regardless of how I’m addressed, I really enjoy Parents Night. Despite the extra hours, I know my colleagues do as well. It’s a moment in a hectic schedule that we can articulate what we feel:  teaching is not a job but a calling, and working with young people at Collegiate is truly a labor of love.