Why Do Parents Believe Children?

Seriously.  If your 12-year-old tells you that she doesn't have homework anymore because we've had our standardized test... don't believe her.

If your son, a 6th grader, tells you that they don't send report cards home anymore, even though the sign at the front of the school says they go home on the 10th, don't believe him.

I must have had a different type of mother, because she never believed my crazy lies.  I don't believe my student's crazy tales, but their parents do.

And that's really sad.

But if I get one more voicemail or email from a parent, claiming crazy things, I am seriously going to have to restrain myself from saying something to the effect of, "Do you really think that I said that?  That, even though on the progress report, her grade was a 11%, she actually has a 95%, and it was just a mistake?  Are you that stupid?"  

Because this past progress report, the children apparently all joined in a conspiracy to lie to their parents, causing an endless stream of confusion and consternation, culminating in parents yelling about how they can't believe that we don't fix the errors in the computers before sending progress reports home.

Um, parents? 

Your child lies.  It's a phase they go through several times in their growth to adults, and apparently especially right now.  Love them, trust them, but then check everything they say, especially if it seems like it doesn't make sense.

And stop blaming me!  I promise I didn't tell your child that they don't need to pass my class to get out of 6th grade.

I actually said, "Do your work or you'll have summer school."

Believe me.  I outgrew the lying phase years ago.

Confessions of Guilty Students, Part Two

The same day as I had my little guilty student confessing to property defacement, I had another student hand me a folded up note, looking miserable, as soon as she walked in.

I looked at her, then looked at the note, dreading reading the contents myself. Usually, when students present me with notes, they are from their parent telling me why he or she cannot do what I have asked them to do.

Here are some examples of actual notes from parents that I have received.

• "I'm so sorry Ms. Language Arts Lady, but I threw away her project. Could you please give her full credit? I saw it, and it looked pretty good."
• "I told him not to do your work, because I thought it was not important, and I didn't see what he was learning by doing it."
• "I looked at the work, but since I couldn't figure out what you wanted him to do, I couldn't help him, so I just said don't do it. Please forgive him."
• "She had a softball game so she couldn't do the work."
• "I know my son is failing your class, so I need you to raise his grade. I don't think he is showing that he doesn't understand, so it's obviously something that you're doing as you grade. Please update his grade immediately and send me the new percentage."

So I just knew this note would be a doozy.

I opened it, and I saw it wasn't from her parents, but from her. I read it. In it, she confessed, in very dramatic, very apologetic words, that she lied to me, and she's so embarrassed.

I told her that I would think about it, and what I wanted to do, and get back to her. She slumped off, looking miserable, and went over to her little friends, who looked miserable with her, and patted her.

I, meanwhile, wanted to laugh.

Here's what happened:

The day before, I had thought she was chewing gum, as she was chewing something. I called her up and asked her what she was chewing, and she told me it was her tongue. I told her to stop chewing her tongue, as it looks like she was chewing gum, and if she was caught chewing her tongue again, she would receive the consequence for chewing gum.

Now, I knew she had been chewing on something, for I saw her. I figured, however, that she was a really good girl (she is) and she wouldn't lie to me, so I accepted her answer. Other students would have been questioned more deeply.

So her telling me she had been chewing gum made me think that I wasn't losing my mind; she had been chewing gum.

In her lovely note, she tells me that she did the most embarrassing thing ever, and she lied to me. She tells me she will never chew gum in school again or lie to a teacher. She mentions she is wiling to accept any punishment, and she knows that it will take time for me to trust her again.

I am thrilled by this note. It shows that her conscience (and I have a sneaking suspicion, her parents helped) punished her far more effectively than I ever could.

So, I asked her to stay back after class to talk. I felt like an executioner, as all of her friends looked like I was a horrible, mean teacher, and they all lined up to hug her, and whisper things in her ear.

(What on earth did they think I was going to do?)

Before I said anything, she was crying. I hate when they cry pitifully.

I talked about how I was disappointed to find that she had lied to me. However, I am thrilled that she has come forward with the truth like this. I told her how happy it made me that she was so truthful to confess, since she had "gotten away with it." She sniffed as I talked.

I told her she was not going to get any further consequence, since she was so honest, and she had come forward on her own. I did ask if writing the letter had been her idea or her parents (her parent's idea).

I also told her that I didn't think any less of her, since she admitted her mistake, and was willing to work to correct it, and to STOP WORRYING, since I am not mad at her.

So I sent her off to lunch, sniffling, and into the arms of her waiting, sympathetic friends.

She survived the evil teacher.

I am, apparently, very scary.

Oh, well.

Do Not Lie to Your Mother!

Three times this past week I received irate messages from mothers saying, "Why did you ________ to my child? He/She didn't do that!" Each time what I did was different, and each time I had not done that to their child!

I am tired of children who lie to their mothers, and then their mothers are annoyed with me. It's not my fault!

Like a student whose cell phone I had taken. The mother called me and asked why I had unfairly confiscated her child's cell phone. Before I even tried to defend myself, I asked what their child had told them... and was told that I took it out of his backpack, for no reason, and he was just sitting there when I swooped down and took it.

I had to laugh.

I said, "Um, that's not quite what happened." Then I explained what had happened. In the first place, our school policy says that students may have cell phones if their parents are worried about their safety getting home. However, they are required to be in their backpack at all times, and off at all times. This does not mean in their pocket.

Her child had his phone out, and was playing games on it. Then, after I had told him sternly to put it away, it had rung during class. That was it; I had taken it. I turned it over to the 6th grade office, and they now had it, so if she wanted to pick it up, she was welcome to do so.

Boy, was she mad, and thankfully not at me, but at her child. I doubt he'll see that phone again for awhile, regardless of when she actually picks it up.

Another student had told her mother that I had not accepted her work, and she wasn't sure why.

Again, irate voicemail. I explained again... she was turning stuff in that was not even from this 9 weeks. Our team has a no-late work policy, but in any case, even if I had made an exception, it was from 4 months ago. I believe any excused work reason had expired.

Finally, a mom was mad because, "I picked on her daughter and had embarrassed her in front of the entire class."

Her daughter had burped in my class, while it was relatively quiet, and she had been playing up everyone for awhile before that to make everyone laugh. It was easy to tell she made it louder than it needed to be, since it was forced sounding, and not at all stifled. So I told her to leave the classroom, and I would be with her in a minute.

The mom told me it was "a natural bodily function, and you can't punish a child for that."

I explained that in my years of teaching, I had never, not even once burped while I was in the classroom. I told her that it wasn't a tiny burp, it was very loud. I explained that I always kicked the kids out when they did things like that, as I didn't want to tell them in front of the all the children that I find them rude and their behavior unacceptable. I personally would find this more embarrassing than being told this same information outside.

So she was finally satisfied with my answers, but not really with my actions.

Do I overreact to burping? I don't think so. Kids these days seem to be deteriorating in manners. I feel that as their teacher, it's part of my job to ensure that they will be able to be in polite society, and manners are a necessary part of that. If they're not getting them at home, I am hopefully helping them learn some. Plus, and this might be more accurate, they are kids. They need reminders.

Anyway, it was a long, long week.

I hope next week will be better.

Wait... next week is the TEST. And we have two parents conferences.

Oh, help.

6th Graders Need Help

Okay, I know 6th graders are really very young. They are still children, only 12 years old, at the oldest, and some are even 10 turning 11!

But sometimes they are just so dumb!

Not always the bad kind... generally just the tiresome kind. (Honestly, this is also the funny kind, so it works out).

For example, the kids were working through a practice magazine, and we were focusing on compare/contrast and cause and effect.

For the 3rd item on their To-Do List, they needed to come and get a handout from me, and then complete one side for step 3 and the other for step 4. I handed the paper to them, but the second side was face up. They then return to their seats.

Most of the kids figured it out, and flipped the paper over. Most of them. But some, my advanced kids especially, came back up and handed me the paper and told me I gave them the wrong one.

I just shake my head at them. The other kids are quick to explain, most of the time, but sometimes they just stand there staring at me, until I can't take it and I laugh at them.

I tease them, and tell them they are very silly. They always laugh with me, understanding they are silly.

I love them, I really do, but sometimes it's just too much what causes them to have difficulty managing. I mean, should you really have to tell a 6th grader to turn their paper over?

Another thing that gets me is why they think I don't know it's them talking when they are supposed to be working silently.

It's not that hard to tell it's a particular student. It sounds like them, first thing. Since no one else is talking, it's pretty easy to figure out the part of the room the sound is coming from, and then narrow it down to the child who's leaning over their desk in a sneaky manner.

Add to that I placed all of my sneakiest kids within easy sight (and sound) of my desk, and I know exactly who it is, and generally exactly what they're saying.

So then, when they tell me, "Oh, but it wasn't me who was talking, Ms. Language Arts Lady! I would never talk when I should be working!!" I feel irritated. This type of dumb is the bad kind.

Then, when I had caught one of my students talking, and he told me he was talking because he was almost finished, and therefore had time, I ask to see his work.

He had written almost nothing, and it was so messy he might as well have been writing in a foreign language. Actually, it might have been better, because then I could have plugged it into an online translator, and gotten sense out of it.

Add to the horrible handwriting the fact he didn't add the quotation marks as he was supposed to do (he just copied random sentences).

He hasn't even gotten to handout, and when I asked to see his handout, he said, very belligerently, "What's a handout?"

Again, irritating.

So, while 6th graders are so much fun, and funny, and great to be around, sometimes their silliness, which is a large part of their amusement, can be very irritating.

What do you mean, "What's a handout?" You have been doing handouts in school since Kindergarten.

Comments like that really test the patience of teachers.

Why Do They Lie?

We have been slammed recently on our team (and I think our whole school) with parent conferences, since report cards have gone home recently, and since this time, there was a little letter attached explaining the retention/promotion policy, so parents became aware of just how serious those Fs in math, language arts, social studies, and science truly are.

Something we have noticed about our kids in these conferences is that they lie. They will stare you in the face and lie to their parents and to you. Then, they will look ashamed and sob.

Why do they do that? They know we are right there listening to them and we will bust them. For example, one student told his mother that he always does his homework in class, every day, so that's why he doesn't ever have homework.

Now, this is not true. In all of the classes on my team, we simply do not do homework in class, because we're busy doing classwork. It is a very, very rare occasion that allows them to even start their homework in class, let alone finish it. In my class, we perhaps begin homework in class once a month.

So of course, all of his teachers explained that this was not true, and he just doesn't ever do his homework, showing her the print out of his grades, which show he hasn't done any homework this 9 weeks.

Why would they do that? It incenses their parent, who is sitting right there, having to listen to people telling them their child isn't doing what they are supposed to. They are already annoyed, then to be confronted by their child lying? It embarrasses them, and makes for embarrassing scenes for us, the teachers, as the parent struggles with their anger and frustration at their child, and as the kid sobs.

Then, why do they lie when you sat and watched them do something? For instance, one of my troublemaking boys has recently been getting in quite a bit of trouble with all of his teachers.

His parents have been up to the school multiple times, the teachers call home weekly, we write notes in his planner every day, and more, but he still is struggling with his behavior.

He was sitting in class after he finished a test, and he was supposed to be reading his book. Instead, he had pulled out a toy and was playing with it.

In my class.

In the front row, during a test (so I am watching to make sure no one is talking or cheating), seconds after I had told him to read his book.

Then, after I took it away, he argued with me for 15 minutes about it. I finally tired of it, and told him to go and sit down, so he sat and pouted for the rest of class. After class, he came over to try to sweet talk me, to try to get it back.

I told him that he would have to have a good couple of days in a row to earn it back, which is my normal policy. Most kids are aware of their item in my possession, hanging over their head, and they get it back quickly.

Instead of accepting this and leaving, he starts to argue. Again.

He tells me that he was, "Just taking it out of my pocket to put something else away."

Now, I know this is a lie, since I watched him pull it out and play with it for awhile. I told him this, and how I had watched him play with it, and he said, "No, I was putting something away!"

I told him that he needed to leave now (since class was over and my other kids were trying to come in, but were hovering confusedly in the doorway, not sure if they could come in or not).

He starts shrieking about how it is his and he wasn't doing anything and it wasn't fair.

I was finished.

I wasn't going to sit and be yelled at by a child who had flat out lied to me about a dumb toy that shouldn't have been at school in the first place.

Later, at his parent conference, I told his parents about the incident, and his dad told me to just throw the toy away.

I love when parents are supportive. It makes me feel better about the struggles I have with their kids.

But I still don't understand why the kids lie to me. Or to their parents.

Why?

The Daily Grind - Lies

Now that the school year is really underway, the days have settled into the daily grind. The kids come to school, I teach things, we do activities together, I assign homework, I attempt to collect homework, I listen to lies about homework, etc.

What is it about kids in 6th grade that makes them, when they face the teacher and have to say "I didn't do my homework, Ms. Language Arts Lady," choose instead to lie?

And really, really bad lies, too.

Ones I have heard (just this week):

• "My mom threw it away." I hear this one constantly. And it is very rarely true. If it IS true, the child left it in an unfortunate place, and mom was just cleaning.
• "My mother went through my backpack and took it out." WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?? I ask, incredulously. I always get some variation of, I don't know, but she did. This has never been proven true, but I have heard it at least 20 times just this week.
• "I left it at home." Now, I do know that sometimes this one might be true, of course, but this one is the favorite phrase in every student, and used often as a lie covering what they should be saying, which is "I didn't do it." So I ask them: Why did you leave it at home? You knew you'd need it today... you wrote it in your planner, I reminded you as you left yesterday, you knew! Their response? "I don't know."
• "I left it in my other backpack." How many backpacks does one child need? I had one each year as a child, and that's it. If it would break, you would have to make do, or pull out last year's model and use that. Some of these kids seriously do have a backpack for every day of the week.
• "I was cleaning out my backpack and I left it on my bed." This little tale almost always includes the exact place they left it, as if telling me where it is currently will make me believe them. The way you can tell it's a lie? If you have ever seen the inside of a 6th grader's backpack, you know they NEVER clean them. It's amazing they don't get condemned and labeled toxic.

And many other crazy tales. This week I decided I was tired of the lies, so I started telling the students I knew they were lying to me, and they could stop.

It was actually a lot of fun, because the kids then felt bad they were lying (most of them) and told me the truth, and swore up and down they'd improve, etc.

Plus, if I have to listen, and look like I believe, that one more student's mom went through their backpack and threw away their homework, I was going to go mad.