A Good Conference Call

Most people would think that there’s not a lot of joy to be had sitting on a folding chair in a noisy gymnasium for three hours.  Especially after you’ve already put in a full day of work.  

That’s the funny thing about Parent-Teacher conferences, though.  Turns out that they actually are kind of fun (don’t tell my union rep).  And the fun starts right after school, when some fine folks agree to feed the teachers.

I don’t know how food is treated at other work places, but teachers view food with a kind of rabid reverence that is not for the weak hearted.  Come into the teacher’s lounge some day and set out a plate of day-old cookies.  Heck, they could even be a week old.  Within the hour, they’ll be gone.  The plate, too, if it’s got a little life left in it.

Here’s the truth.  It is impossible for a group of teachers to eat together without laughing.  And not that polite, sniffling snickering, but great, heaping, snorting guffaws.  Top that with the excellent food that our parents feed us on conference night, and you can see why I head to my hard, rusty chair in the gym with a smile on my face.

The gym, where the parade of parents begins, tall people wending their confused way between rickety card tables manned by tired teachers.  Nine times out of ten, though, when those parents sit down and we start talking, I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

There is something wonderful about telling a parent that you love his or her child.  Even if there are bumps in that child’s road, bumps that harsh my mellow, I can always find the silver lining, the beautiful essence of that child who is theirs.  And I relish the job of reminding them just how swell their kids are.

Maybe that’s why it’s always hard for me to fall asleep after parent-teacher conferences.  My stomach is happy digesting delectables and my head is buzzing from the good conversations I’ve had with parents.  

It is good to love their kids, even when they can be aggravating knuckleheads who occasionally wear too much Axe. Truth is, I laugh as much with those kids as I do with my peers at lunch.

Lucky me.