Parent-Teacher Conferences

Parents are the indispensable third leg of the stool that sits squarely underneath the animal from which we hope to get so many good things. In a way, of course, a really big way, there's no one who can derive more effort from a young person than parents. After all, it was their native genius that brought Jack or Jill into the world to begin with. If they can't convince them to study and work, what are teachers, miracle workers? Faith-healers?

Yet, it does take a village--maybe even an internet learning community-- to make a kid whole and so we arrive at Parent-Teacher Conferences--a time to meet the creators. And, for those new to this: trust me, it will be a wonderful learning experience, in many ways.

My first year of teaching was a bit rough. I was a bit rough. I remember that at one point in the fall, the zipper on my cheap slacks broke and though details are hazy now in my memory (yes, I wore underwear!), I tried to teach sitting behind my desk for the first and last time in my career. Things were going OK until Jessica, the precocious, verbal and trouble-some girl of the class, noticed and announced this fact to all.

That was a very red moment in the history of my face.

Lesson: always keep safety pins in your desk, for many, many very good reasons.

I bring it up because Jessica's dad made a point of raising this issue with me at Parent Conferences the next week, suggesting variously that I had done something on purpose, that I should have stopped teaching that day, that I was a risk to humanity in general and his precious little daughter in particular.

I believe that was the most negative experience I ever had with a parent during conferences. Honest. Since then, every other issue or concern has seemed like a cake-walk in comparison. New teachers, hear this: it's kind of a good thing to start at or near the bottom as a professional. There's only one way to go after that.

Typically Parent Conferences take place after school, after a long exhausting day of teaching, and teachers, especially if you are popular, or for that matter unpopular, who have a good long line, don't get much of a break-- a chance to snack or even to use facilities. This is one of the occupational hazards of teaching. There are nights when I finish conferences after five non-stop hours of talking that I don't even know who I am--blazed by all the hub-bub and exposure to humanity.

But, and this is a big but: I always feel galvanized, stimulated and ennobled by the experience.

There are few things more enlightening in teaching than to have had a student for six weeks, witnessed the good, the bad and the ugly about them, read their inner-most thoughts, having watched several of their insecurities or inherent human strengths play out on their peers, and then to have mom or dad (or both) show up and round out the story. I mean, it truly is fascinating, and mainly because any preconceptions, any stereotypes, any judgments about the student or their family are usually well off the mark.

And, as it should be. I learn more about my students in one night of Parent-Teacher Conferences than at any single point throughout the whole year. In other words, that compressed four or five hour session is like entering the Twilight Zone: human character, odd circumstance, interesting connections, bizarre references, Fun-House mirrors--just about anything and everything can happen.

But, you do really need to cultivate that experience and be open to it. It's kind of like the use of spiritual magic in Africa: if you fundamentally don't believe in the power of that religion, you will not be subject to its spell.

Example: at my former high school, we sat in the commons area at little square tables quite close to each other. One night, during a rare lull in my visits, I watched the teacher next to me dispatch her responsibilites. One by one parents would arrive, sit down and give the name and hour of their child. It was obvious the teacher did not even know the students by name, but rather, retreated to her grade book, looked up the period and began a recitation of the number of points they had earned and what assignments were missing. She would then talk about what new material they would be studying by the end of the trimester.

Funny thing was, the parents just sat there and made few, if any, inquiries of that teacher in regard to their child. Why? Because when a teacher presents the kind of front that says, "Hey, this is just about points for me, not about the humanity of your kid", you can bet parents get the message and move on.

You see, what most parents really want is high quality information about their kid. They are involved at a very intimate level in trying to figure out, in strategizing, in testing hypotheses, in really learning who their child is becoming, what they are doing, and what another experienced, competent, insightful adult thinks is happening with that kid. Remember: children are dynamic. In the extreme. They are constantly changing, physically, emotionally, mentally, and especially during the middle and high school years, parents are on the look out for what is coming next.

That's what parents want from their kids' teachers--not a litany of details about assignments turned in or missing or how close they are to an "A". Yeah, I know, some parents are super grade conscious--there are some that are, and that is a whole education about their child all by itself. Some want data with which they can fashion new arguments about why one parent is doing a lousy job and custody should be restricted. And on and on. So, be on your toes. Get a sense of what that parent cares about. But, don't retreat behind your grade book or disappear into a staged routine about class activities.

By and large, after 15 years, I can report that most parents, if you treat them with interest and respect, if you talk about their child in terms of their qualities and character--and talk about their child's assets and strengths--are more than happy to partner with you in terms of improving performance.

And that's what you want as a teacher. You want the parent working with you, working with their child, to become the best student and person possible. But, I think communicating that really has to start with the teacher. And it really has to be about showing genuine concern for the student as a person. If you communicate that your interest is in the overall development of their child, not just the points in their grade column, you will have begun to win them over to you, not just as a teacher, but as a human being. And that is indispensable.

Bullet advice:

1. Mark down who comes each night and take notes, if possible. I know note-taking is hard while you are trying to talk and make eye-contact, but with so many people coming and going, it will be difficult to remember accurately what happens. If you don't take notes during the conferences, do it afterward, at least for the conversations which seemed most crucial.

2. Do not talk about other students or other teachers. This is big. A professional educator does not engage in gossip, judgments or complaints about other human beings. This is a hard lesson if you have to learn it personally. The magic response here is: I'm sorry but I am really interested in your child and it's my policy not to talk about other teachers or students.

3. Many parents will ask you to contact them the minute Child A does not turn in an assignment or their grade percentage slips below X. Of course you want to be accommodating, but this is not easy to do well and could end up making the parent very angry with you. First, how are you going to know the student's percentage at every moment? How are you going to remember that you have promised to keep the parent informed at the first missing assignment? It's not like your grade book or your computer program is going to send you a reminder. Be very careful about making special promises to parents. It sets you as the teacher up to fail. If a parent is insistent, just tell them that they need to contact you personally from time to time and request an update--that is much easier to handle.

4. Always start and end with the positives. I am a big believer in "asset-thinking"; that is, finding the good points about a person or situation and naming them, supporting them and making them stronger. Every child has good points, things that they do well. Start the conference by saying what those are, even if it is just: I really like your daughter. She really enjoys other people and has great social skills. List as many positives as you can. Then work your way to number 5 below. But, remember: when you are finishing the conference, always return to the assets as well. You want the parent to leave your conference seeing and believing that you value, respect and have identified the positive things about that child.

5. Make specific suggestions as to how their child can improve performance. Think in terms of skills here, not just doing the work. Do they need to work on their writing? Do they need to prepare more for exams? Do they need to work more effectively with others? Is their in-class performance coming up short somehow? You should be able to give each parent a run-down, not just in terms of assignments but actual skills as to what needs to happen for improvement to occur.

6. No matter if the child is doing well or poorly in your class, do not attribute it to their intelligence. In other words, you do not want to say: "Man, your kid is really smart." This is especially true if the student is sitting there at the conference. Rather, you want to credit success or failure to the level of effort and focus the student is exerting in completing their work. Research shows that a student will produce better results if they think that what makes the difference is their level of effort and not a permanent quality, like intelligence. So always credit their success or failure to effort and not native ability.

7. Connect with kids about having met their parents. Be very positive about the meeting and make it clear that you enjoyed meeting their parents on a human level, not in terms of monitoring the child or assessing their success in your class.

Conferences are where the dots finally get connected as far as what you've been seeing all year from a particular student. It is a great learning opportunity and a sociological window on American society and the community in which your school is located. I never missed a conference in 15 years because I believed deeply that as much as I was involved in a civic enterprise on behalf of the state, I was principally involved in a more personal endeavor: helping a particular family or a particular parent to fully develop the young person they were committed to raising.

If you really communicate that to parents, if you are clear about your intention as a teacher, you are on solid ground: integrity and mission are still the sturdiest foundation from which to engage a parent, an administrator or anyone about what is going on in your classroom.