I can’t count the number of mornings and evenings I spent running around the empty school in my socks.We organized all the books in the class library for fun (it’s no secret that teacher’s kids are often nerds).I heard it all: the bratty kids, the outrageous parents, and the corrupt administrators; the staff parties, the field trip disasters, and the behind-the-scenes politics.
My dad is dating my teacher dating goodbye
My sister and I throw around education-jargon like old pros.
My parents both care much about their students—putting in extra hours giving catch-up help to those who need it, spending lunchtimes meeting with parents, and always being there to fight for students’ best interests in front of an often indifferent administration.
This only applies to kids who attend the same school where their parents teach, of course, but for these children, this is a vaguely looming and recurring nightmare from the time they enter school—will they be in Mom’s homeroom or Dad’s history class?
If you end up in a parent’s class, you’re likely either to be the teacher’s pet or have your ass kicked—and it’s almost always the latter.
He turned to me and slurred an impromptu, sentimental monologue about how bored and restless he had been as a kid—until he was assigned to my mom’s class.
He swore that it was the best thing that could have happened to him, and I thought: I really do believe that.For the rest of the day we scurried around the classroom, distributing papers and wiping down blackboards and being cooed at. of creativity when done well, and both of my parents are constantly looking for new ideas for how and what to teach their students.For as long as I can remember, we’ve spent long car rides planning out lessons for their classes.In eleventh grade, I was at a party with some students from my dad’s school, where someone asked excitedly, “Your last name is Leader? ” He and his classmates were such fans of my dad that they offered to buy me a drink.I have dozens of memories like this: during my last year at high school, I wound up sitting on the pavement outside a bar next to an acquaintance and classmate who had been taught by my mother almost ten years before.When I graduated, I received countless cards and gift certificates from a variety of teachers, only some of whom had directly taught me.