A House without School Secrets

The last day of school for Jordan and Jamie is marked by the joy of knowing there are seventy-three free days of summer stretched before them, and the official presentation of their fourth-quarter report cards.

Jamie came right up to us after school, envelope in hand. “I didn’t look yet. I’m nervous.” Three tense moments and all A’s and one B later, Jamie’s face was on the verge of breaking from his proud smile.

Middle school report cards are mailed home, but Jordan’s had not yet arrived. Fortunately, our school district allows all registered parents to review their middle school students’ daily and final grades on line, so within a few keystrokes I was reviewing Jordan’s final grades.

As we follow Jordan’s grades on line weekly, we knew she would have excellent grades with the exception of a C in math. In ongoing efforts to teach both Jordan and Jamie sometimes painful life lessons, we gave Jordan every opportunity to tell us she was struggling this quarter and needed extra help.

Yet Jordan stayed mum, telling us classes were going well, and her earlier midterm report did reveal she was still maintaining a low B in math. It took every fiber of my being to not rattle her, to tell her not to lie, and to simply tell us the truth so we could get her the extra help she needed.

It was even more confusing because Jordan LOVED her math teacher. Ms. Joy (her real name) is not only happiness personified, but has the innate ability to reach out to each student and connect on a one-on-one level. I was baffled why Jordan hadn’t reached out to her.

Jim and I have very high expectations for Jordan and Jamie to do their best work and put forth their best effort. We do not expect nor demand straight A’s on every report card, but we do expect their best work each and every time. We understand they may not always have a perfect report card, but we want them to be proud of the grades they earned, and in turn we are proud of them.

The parents-of-the-year, civilized open discussion we intended to have with Jordan regarding her math grade disintegrated within a less than five-minute window. A defensive, yelling, excuse-laden hissy fit ended with Jordan storming out of our room in tears, slamming not only our bedroom door but hers.

Round two began a half hour later after all three parties counted to five thousand and Jim thought better of permanently removing Jordan’s door from her bedroom. Our second talk was calmer and brutally honest: Jordan was afraid she would get in trouble for getting a bad grade in math, so when I asked her how everything was going in school every day, she claimed (by playing semantics) she thought I was asking about social issues, not classes.

After biting a hole through the side of my face, I shared with Jordan that when I was in college I failed the same algebra class three times in a row, AND I went to study groups AND I had a tutor AND my math brilliant friends tried desperately to help me, but it was no use. I just didn’t understand the concepts, and it wasn’t until I took the course for a fourth time during summer school at a community college that the professor was able to explain algebra to me in a way that I could understand.

Jordan also caught heat for the overt drama that she would somehow be punished for a bad grade, because 1) she has never had a bad grade, and 2) that’s not how our family works. When she lamely attempted to prove her point that she was currently in trouble for her math grade, we quickly explained she was in child prison because her attitude was beyond disrespectful and we would have none of it.

We further explained our view of middle school: It was a place of study where Jordan and Jamie would directly hone in on their academic strengths and weaknesses; information that would be crucial when they entered high school. Middle school was high school prep, and they needed to take as much away from their three years there as possible, as well as gain a strong sense of confidence, independence and responsibility.

I know this statement is self-obvious, but parenting children to be self-sufficient and independent sucks. It would have been so easy for us to swoop in and save Jordan from herself. We could have called her teacher and either made excuses for her low grades or made arrangements to have her tutored before, during or after school, but what would Jordan have learned?

Through her own actions, Jordan ‘earned’ this C, for better or for worse, and she feels badly about it; not because of the letter grade itself, but because she didn’t do everything in her power to best benefit herself.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some math worksheets to review with Jordan. Dralle Summer School is in session.