I congratulated my niece on her upcoming student-teaching assignment. She's a nice, sensitive, hard-working person. She's also a mom. Chances are, she'll be one of those caring teachers, who won't back down when it comes to the welfare of a child.
Chances are, she'll be one of those teachers who arrives early, and leaves late.
I'm praying for her, because her biggest challenges may not come from her future students at all, but from their parents.
I watched the evening news, and the lead story was about a bunch of kids who decided it would be a good idea to steal cell phones from Metro riders. The whole time I was watching, one question kept repeating in my mind-- "Who, and where are their parents?"
I read how shocked and appalled some people are about the lengths to which school systems go to handle unruly students of all ages.
I watched the evening news, and the lead story was about a bunch of kids who decided it would be a good idea to steal cell phones from Metro riders. The whole time I was watching, one question kept repeating in my mind-- "Who, and where are their parents?"
I read how shocked and appalled some people are about the lengths to which school systems go to handle unruly students of all ages.
In a climate where some parents don't want ANYONE to say ANYTHING to their children when they're behaving like rabid spawns of Satan, and where EVERY disciplinary method is considered corporal punishment, it's no wonder that the police may be summoned to handle even the littlest, seemingly harmless elementary school student.
Frankly, I don't think it's over the top. I've heard parents say, "If you can't handle a kid, maybe you shouldn't be a teacher!" The problem is, what constitutes "handling"? What are we talking about? Time out? Spanking? A good talking-to?
Only a conscientious parent, who makes random surprise visits to their child's school, can testify what a different animal their child is when they're away from home. Sometimes people have to see their children in action. The blinders fall off. Then, they form the alliance necessary for "the village" to thrive.
However, when given the choice of potentially losing one's job, being arrested, being branded an abuser for correcting a child, or calling the police, perhaps 911 is the number to remember and call.
Some parents simply abhor the thought of their children being corrected by others. These are the same parents who unleash their spoiled rotten offspring on an unsuspecting world, while they make one excuse after another.
These are the same parents who are swiftly litigious, and nastily defensive deflectors.
They're the same ones who are quick to invoke their rights.
They're the ones who are the primary answer to the question: "What's wrong with that kid?"
One of my former co-workers used to say, "Follow a fool home from school, and you'll FIND a fool."
One of my former co-workers used to say, "Follow a fool home from school, and you'll FIND a fool."
Her quip would inspire laughter, but it really was more sad than funny. Though it was sometimes true, it was not always applicable.
Some parents, for whatever reason, simply missed the window within which they should have been instilling basic home training:
They laughed when they should have been appalled.
They defended when they should have been denouncing.
They looked away, when they should have been paying attention.
They took offense when they should have said, "Thank you".
They blamed everyone and everything except themselves.
Granted, some parents are overwhelmed. Perhaps they don't know how to control their children, but when a kid is acting a fool in a public place, what's the public to do?
The heavy sighs, under-the-breath mumbles, complaints, looks of disgust, moves in the opposite direction, and sarcastic comments may come, but they don't change much--except to prompt overwhelmed, (and maybe embarrassed) parents to ask "What are YOU looking at?" or yell, "Mind your business!"
Some parents may be shamed into action, because deep down, they know they could do something to stop the madness. Is it that they're afraid of their own kid, or afraid of what some idiot will say if they dare to do their job, and correct the person they brought into the world?
Others will literally defend their kid's behavior, and bite off the head of anyone who dares to address the antics they witness.
Just when is enough enough? It would seem that if one cannot handle a situation, one would welcome the assistance of someone who can.
I recall shopping in a Reston, VA Target store, and couldn't believe the way two children were allowed to run all over the store. It was as if their mother just released them as they cleared the automatic doors and said, "Simulate a cyclone while I find your sister a pair of shoes."
I recall shopping in a Reston, VA Target store, and couldn't believe the way two children were allowed to run all over the store. It was as if their mother just released them as they cleared the automatic doors and said, "Simulate a cyclone while I find your sister a pair of shoes."
Another mother got on everyone's nerves by constantly calling out to her son, who was having a ball knocking down clothes, and rolling on the floor. As she shopped, she couldn't seem to find him, but other shoppers had no problem locating him, as he emerged from clothes racks and aisles.
I simply walked up to him and asked, "Don't you hear your mother calling you?" He stopped in his tracks, and his eyes got as big as half-dollar pieces. Embarrassed as she approached, her response was to tell him, "See? That's enough. We're leaving. I can't shop with you".
My mother, God rest her soul, would never, EVER have cut her shopping short because I had been misbehaving! Leaving the store simply would not have been an option. God knows their departure was a relief to everyone in the store that day, but what message did it send to her kid?
"I'm in control.
I can manipulate my mom.
I can act a fool, and her only reaction will be embarrassment.
My actions have no consequences."
If you had, or have parents who took the time to teach you right from wrong, you ought to be grateful. My Dad used to say things like, "I don't care if everybody is doing the wrong thing, you do the right thing." and "If you see something wrong, and you don't say anything, you're just as wrong."
It's not always fun being old-school these days, but it's not regrettable either. Speaking up, however, can get you in a mess you weren't anticipating.
Do you say something, or do you shake your head and mutter how awful the world has become?
Do you try to impart helpful advice or instruction and risk getting cursed out, or do you mind your business, tell yourself that you'll never have to encounter certain people or situations again, and remain silent?
The lessons taught, that cause one to consider good manners, kindness, compassion, empathy, and courtesy among life's valuable things, are awfully hard to forget. You have to remember, though, that everyone was not raised in your mother's house.
When I was in elementary school, we used to have a special event in the combination gymnasium/ auditorium that was called "Assembly".
When I was in elementary school, we used to have a special event in the combination gymnasium/ auditorium that was called "Assembly".
During the gathering, the principal and assistant principal, assisted by our teachers, would demonstrate how we were to behave during a public performance or program. The lesson also included how to enter, be seated, and exit in an orderly fashion. We learned that our behavior impacted the people around us. Consideration for others, while enjoying a performance wasn't impossible. I wonder if school systems even do that any more.
On Sunday, I attended a church-sponsored event at a popular banquet venue.
On Sunday, I attended a church-sponsored event at a popular banquet venue.
After being seated, it became apparent that the table behind me was where many parents had deposited their children when they arrived, while they enjoyed the program and their meal from another part of the room.
For several hours, my chair was bumped by one kid or another, who was running back and forth. Short of cutting off my circulation, I scooted my chair as close to the table as I could to avoid them as they whizzed by.
The children came to the event equipped with electronic games and toys, too. Apparently some proactive parents anticipated that their little darlings would get bored, but what they didn't consider was how their children's behavior would impact the people who were unfortunate enough to be seated near them.
The kids carried on conversations all night. While that was neither surprising nor unusual, and the band drowned out much of their goings-on, a problem arose for this old-school attendee when the invited speaker went to the podium.
There was a competition going on, and the kids were winning. I wondered if anyone was going to say anything to quiet them, or require them to take their seats. The speaker forged on in spite of it. He knew he didn't have everyone's attention or interest, and I felt particularly bad for him.
Adults were talking, utensils were clinking, people were walking, and children took repeated trips to the unmanned buffet for second helpings.
My proximity to the kids table made it difficult for me to ignore them. I finally turned around and asked them to keep it down, pointing out the speaker in case they hadn't noticed him. The noise continued and got progressively louder. I turned around again with intentions to address the ring leader. It was at that time that I heard a woman say, "No! Leave my son alone!"
Tact had completely left me at that point. Had I turned my head a little further, I would have seen her seated at the table. Surely she must have been asleep. I just KNEW she wasn't voluntarily identifying herself as a parent!
Before I could catch myself, I was on my feet addressing her. "Oh, so you ARE here! Then why don't YOU say something to him?"
Her defensive, matter-of-fact response was that other people were talking, too. I asked her if that made what her child was doing any better, right, or proper.
I was angry at that point. I told her, un-apologetically, with all of my experience as a teacher and a mom to back it, that her child's problem was her. Too far? Probably. But I do know I didn't hear another peep from the kiddie table for the rest of the night. Suddenly, people were dutifully paying attention to their children, and I could actually hear the speaker!
Did I make an enemy? Probably. Is it wise for a parent to alienate the extra eyes and ears in the village that will willingly, and often accidentally, assist in the raising of a child? Nope. By making it clear that her child should be able to be as obnoxious and undisciplined as he wanted, when and wherever he wanted, in front of him, she created work for herself. I knew I'd probably never see either of them again.
I realize that I took full advantage of the fact that I would soon have a microphone in my hand. It was definitely not a good idea for me to have to get up and sing immediately after my encounter with that mother. I went there to sing, not to lecture, babysit, or be on kiddie-table duty, and definitely not to get into a confrontation with an oblivious parent.
Since I did, though, I thought it best to make an apology, not for what I said or did, but for any child who was being fooled into thinking that being upheld by their parent, when they are dead wrong, is a good thing.
I was sorry for the mother who either could not, or would not make sure her child was behaving. I was sorry for the people all around who felt powerless to speak up. I learned later that there was a reason. Others had tangled with this mother before--at church--and decided it wasn't worth the headache.
How deep and distant is the oblivion to which parents travel, when in the company of their own kids?
How deep and distant is the oblivion to which parents travel, when in the company of their own kids?
How much, in their deluded minds, should others be able to bear?
What stupor are they lulled into that partially disables their eyes and ears?
There is one thing, however, that is guaranteed to bring them back to reality, and that is the sound of an exasperated adult voice daring to say what the parent should be saying:
"Sit down!",
"Stop that!",
"Be quiet!",
"Say excuse me!",
"Leave that alone!",
"Be polite.",
"Where are your manners?",
"Show some respect!",
"You are not outside!",
"That doesn't belong to you!",
"Come here, now!"
It never ceases to amaze me.
It never ceases to amaze me.
Some parents don't show any signs of life, until someone else has the audacity to speak to their out-of-control child.
If a parent doesn't want anyone to say anything to their little darling, whose inappropriate behavior is excused, considered cute, or visited upon others, then WHY won't they snap the heck out of their coma and say something themselves?
Why not make sure their child is seated near them? That aggression used to tell people off, who have had
enough of one's unruly child, can be best used to check and correct their child.
To show utter disrespect for others by allowing a child or children to mess up an event, hinder learning in a classroom setting, ruin a theater, restaurant, or shopping experience, or treat another person's home like a romper room, is ridiculous.
If one has the balls to angrily engage an adult, they should have the balls to confront their own kid, and stop the negative behavior---before the police are summoned. The police, by the way, are under no obligation to love, understand, or coddle them.
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