Not My Child

Being a parent is a phenomenal thing, and of course extremely difficult and all consuming. Luckily, built into the process is a bonding with our wonderful offspring that enables us to still love and want to protect them no matter what they do or say. Without this "imprinting" on our hearts there'd be a lot more kids on the streets.

There's a downside to this parent-child connection that my experience as a teacher has shown me way too often. The "Not My Child" syndrome. Here's a scenario. Peggy Sue, an eighth-grader, is caught cheating on a test. The evidence is clear, no grey area here. Peggy Sue denies it vehemently, and her parents are called. Instead of her mother expressing disappointment with her daughter's lapse in judgment and imposing appropriate discipline, she turns on the teacher.

"Peggy Sue would never do something like that, are you sure it wasn't the other student who cheated?"

Evidence shown.

"This can't be right...the other student must have set her up. You never liked my daughter!"

Now I get the "Mama Bear" instinct and why we need it to protect our cubs from all the dangers and injustices of the world. But it seems lately this reaction has been amped up with steroids.

Those of us of a certain age will clearly remember Eddie Haskell, the archetypal two-faced high schooler who said all the right things to the adults and was a jerk in reality. (Hmmm, the role model for many politicians?) I am not suggesting that he epitomizes our children — not all the time, anyway. But our kids know how to "play" us. They have spent years watching fictional and nonfictional characters scam, scheme, cheat, excuse, weasel and insincerely apologize after lying and cheating. They know full well what we want to hear, and just what buttons to push to convince us.

Why wouldn't we want to believe the best about our children? We love them after all, and have spent their whole lives trying to do what's best for them. If they aren't perfect isn't it a reflection on us? But no, of course they aren't perfect, who could ever say that with a straight face? They just would never do this. And there's the problem.

When you think about it rationally, the last thing a teacher wants to do is to have to call a parent about a discipline issue. It's the worst part of the job. We got into, and stay in the profession because we care about kids, their futures, and have something valuable to offer them. There is absolutely no pleasure gained from getting a student in trouble with their parents. But this is where the power of school/parent relationships comes in. If what we are teaching in terms of appropriate behaviors, responses, etc. is reinforced at home — and vice versa — the message is twice as strong. Conversely, if we discount each other, or worse enable our children to do so, we do them a huge disservice.

Think about all the things we did as children, the lies we told our parents. It's what kids do. It is our job to hold them accountable, and not buy everything they say. My 16-year-old daughter is sick of my credo "Trust But Verify" and cringes as I call parents to confirm that they actually will be home and attentive during the co-ed party. The child in her hates me at that moment, and wishes she had the "cool" parent down the block. "Peggy Sue" wasn't thrilled with me at the time either. But if I end up with the reputation as the "coolest" parent or teacher I have failed. (I know, no chance of that!) Because holding the line, and assuming kids will indeed be kids is hard and unpopular. There is certainly a balance to be found, albeit a difficult one to perfect — "tough love." Parental love is tough, the toughest kind in my opinion — there is a life on the line! But of  course it's the purest and most special love as well. So let's love our kids well and follow-up our initial "Not My Child" impulse with a rational "Could It Be True?" And believe and support your child's teachers — we are on the same side!