Here we have Mr. Price, a teacher of many years in the American public school system. He has seen and experienced much. However, this year he has come across a different dimension, a dimension of snot, satanic parents, and alcohol abuse, a hell so hideous that we can only dub it...The Tucker Zone!
When last we left Mr Price, it was at Halloween when the mother tried to blackmail him to agree to her demands, then got strangely cooperative when the attempt failed. Since then, similar battles occurred over Christmas, Valentine's Day, and an attempt to cancel Spring Break.
Now we come to the end of Tucker's second grade year. It is a week before school ends. Mr. Price is doing surprisingly well for the year he has had. Almost daily dealings with Tucker's mother have put him under a strain that, seemingly, only alcohol could ease. A brief covert dalliance with Nancy's mother, while fulfilling a fantasy, had left him even emptier. After a few months in AA, he is back on top, and even more surprisingly, his self-medicating was never seen in class, even escaping Tuckers' parents' microscoping eyes.
After school, Mr. Price is cleaning his room of all the crap that tends to accumulate over a year. He sees in his desk an almost empty bottle of Mad Dog 20/20. It was his first bottle from early in the year, a few nips after school, usually after an impromptu parent meeting, that started his troubles. He looks at the bottle, smiles sadly, and tosses it in the trash.
In comes Tucker's mom. She has the smile, the fake iciness that tells Price it's gonna be one of those days. "Hello, Mr. Price, how are you?"
Fuck me! "Hi. I am fine, you?"
"Oh, just peachy keen!" She looks around at all of the classroom walls. "Why, Mr. Price, these walls look absolutely bare!"
"And yet they look so lovely to me. Eye of the beholder, you know?"
"But the school year is not over yet!"
"Ma'am, the grades are in the system already. The last week we are performing the grade level play, which Tucker is NOT a part of for some reason known only to you. Then we will have a day of playing games and cleaning the desks. On the last day, we will watch a movie of my choosing, then we will release at 12:40."
The raisin wilted. "Released?"
"Dismissed, sent to terrorize their parents for 2 1/2 months and make the parents grateful there is a school system operating 9 1/2 months of the year. Of course, for the loving yet effectively strict parents who provide a balanced household, it's a family vacation."
Tucker's mom sits down. "And which are we, Mr. Price?"
You had to dig, didn't you? "Ma'am I don't think I've ever seen 2 parents so concerned over their kid in my life, which is a compliment."
A huge smile. "Thank you!"
"That being said, I think you focus on what most people think of as peripheral things and make them central to your son's life. In school, it has not served him well."
Tucker's mom looks down for a moment, then meet's Price's sober gaze. "We parent how we parent, Mr. Price."
"Indeed you do."
"About that play, Mr. Price..."
"It will not be canceled, ma'am. The kids have worked so hard."
A look of true surprise. "Oh no! Why would you think I-" She stops, thinks, and nods. "I've done a lot this year for Tucker, I can understand your frustration. But no, I was going to ask if...what I mean is...is there any room for Tucker at all?"
You shitting me? "No."
"Please!"
"Ma'am, you made such a big deal to me, the administration of the school, and the superintendent regarding the plants play! I even assured you that Tucker would not have the broccoli part, but you pushed and pushed, so I acquiesced and had Tucker do alternate learning activities while we practiced. Why the change so late in the year?"
Mother of Tucker is visibly weeping. "It's just that Tucker has felt so, so left out of things. He has been so upset over not being in the play. He even....he even said...he said BROCCOLI!"
Holy shit! "I'll be."
"Oh yes, it was such a breakthrough! Is there not any tiny way he can take part?"
I'll do it, but hate myself in the morning, afternoon, and night. "Tell you what I'll do. I'll create a non-speaking part of a gardener who waters the plants after two songs. That way he can earn the speaking and listening grade for this project."
"But-but he won't speak!"
"But he will listen for the end of the song so he knows what to do.. That counts."
She smiles so widely that Price thinks the extra oxygen will dry her face out permanently. "Mr. Price, I KNEW you were the right teacher for Tucker, I just knew it!"
Price drops another pice of trash into the bag and stares intently at the mother. "Not really."
"Why ever would you say that?"
"Ma'am, the only teacher who is right for Tucker is...I hate to say it...YOU!"
"What? But I'm not a teacher!"
"Oh but you are. You have taught Tucker so many things. Granted, you've taught him some bizarre ideas, but as you say, we parent how we parent. You have the time for it, and only you have the ability to bring Tucker up to grade level."
She is horrified. "Why ME?!"
"Because, simply, with you and your husband as teachers, the only ones who can interfere with your ideas and philosophies are, quite frankly, YOU...and your husband."
"But-but-but we have no educational background."
"Did you graduate high school?"
"Yes."
"You have background. Teach how your teachers taught you. Take what values you've instilled in Tucker, for better or worse, and apply them to the subject areas. Of course, you'd need a home-school liaison, but that's just to make sure you're teaching and not TV watching."
The mother looks down at her hands. She seems ashamed. "But, I was so happy with his growth this year."
I was, too, but the rash went away and he returned. "Growth? Ma'am I progress-monitored him on reading, letter sounds, and math all year. You saw the charts, he flat-lined most of the time, no matter what interventions I did because you intervened on the interventions. Only at the end, in late March, did we see any rise and that was mostly math, which often happens. Having ten fingers to count is a blessing when you know how to use them, and he finally can add and subtract 2 digit numbers with no regrouping."
"That is growth, though."
Price sighs. "It is. But it's not enough for 3rd grade. As we couldn't get him tested for special ed earlier, which I now see as a blessing in disguise, he will be kept in second grade." Price holds up a hand. "And before you protest, all powers concerned agree and will override your objections despite your tenacity."
"He CAN'T be held back!"
"It's done, unless you decide to home-school him. And, if he stays, he will not be in my class."
The raisin face is in danger of implosion. "No, no, only YOU! I insist!"
"No. I will be moving to a different classroom and doing 4th grade. I need the change. A lot of us do, but some teachers stay entrenched where they are too long. I know I did."
"Oh no....I didn't expect this at all."
"I didn't expect anything this year at all. It was an eye-opener on many levels." Price reaches into his bookshelf and finds a summer activity workbook. "I want you to have this, a present from me to you."
She looks at it, a tear flowing down her cheek. "Mr. Price, I feel so responsible for this."
Wonders never cease today! "Thank you for saying that, but the only one responsible for me is me. Now, I still have a lot to clean up before I have to go to a meeting."
She is puzzled. "But it's after school now. Most teachers have gone home."
Price smiles sadly yet proudly. "This time of year, they rush out after the kids do. No, a different meeting."
Mother of Tucker rises and extends a hand. "Thank you, Mr. Price, for everything."
Price takes the hand firmly. "Actually, thank you, ma'am. You and your son have taught me a lot. Have a wonderful summer."
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