Back to School Night: Pwn or be Pwned

Last night was Back to School Night at The Kid's school. I wasn't sure what to expect but the beginning was standard 7th grade fare. Your kid is hitting puberty, this is a big transition from elementary school, your kid is going to have to be more responsible, there's much more work now, blah blah blah. Since we make kids go to middle school in 5th grade in our fair hamlet in the US, this has not been a transition at all for the Kid. If anything he moves from class to class less at San Isidro than he did at home. But it was clear that it's massively huge for the other kids since they have been in the same school since K and in fact have been in a single classroom every year with one teacher. Now they have 10 teachers etc. No big whoop for the Kid but I could see it making the other kids' heads spin.

The thing is that in the US at Back to School Night, one might meet the teachers, or get to understand the schedule or things like that. Not at this one.

This one was pwn or be pwned.

If you do not know my son, or the world of online gaming you might not know the term "pwn." It rhymes with "own." I encourage you to follow the link in the term to urbandictionary.com because I know no other term for what ensued once we headed to the homerooms with the tutor.

At San Isidro every class has a tutor. This is kind of like a homeroom teacher. Way back in the day when I taught 7th grade we had a period called TA (teacher advisory) which was a kind of cross between study skills, life skills, counseling, and study hall. I get the impression this is kind of the role of the tutor. When he's not teaching Lengua Castellana.

I liked the tutor. He reminded me of just about every high school and middle school teacher I'd ever taught with. I'd have put him in his late fifties to early 60s. I'd say he started teaching around 82. Back then the kids were easier and it wasn't a stressful job. Now the kids are hard and the parents are a pain in the ass. But he's not far from retirement and deep down he really likes the kids. But the parents? Joder!

So now we get to the pwning.

Apparently in the Spanish school system there is no such thing as privacy. We quickly learned which children were failing (apparently because they are foreigners) and who had attendance problems (but was a very well brought up girl). We learned that one boy was very disorganized and not doing his homework. The tutor just kind of busted out with this stuff. I was shocked. You would never EVER do this in the US. I mean never ever ever ever.

And then the parents started to pwn back. First it was the math teacher. And I have to confess that that man has done a shoddy fucking job of late. Last week he gave a math test, but since he doesn't follow the book (something several parents bitched about) which was rather expensive (shot out another) and never gives the kids practice or homework (yeah! I thought) just how were the kids supposed to know how to prepare or what would be on it. And then one child got a 2.5! Well no wonder! The teacher's not doing his job! the parents strenuously insisted. (Grades here are on a 10 point scale with a 5 being around a C and no one getting much about an 8 or so. However, The Kid has gotten a 9.5 on science and on the impossible math test where it would seem, many got in the 1-3 range, he got a 5.5, not bad having no idea what was on it!). The tutor agreed to speak with the math teacher.

Then the tutor (who I quite, quite like, btw) mentioned he had office hours and is happy to meet with parents if they have concerns. He is free on Thursdays from 11-12. This sent everyone into another uproar! Well they work! How can they come see him? This was outrageous! He agreed to make individual appointments as needed.

And then we moved onto PE. It seems that it's a recent phenomenon that PE has been made a class that people needed to pass. Apparently there has been a long history of PE dodging in Spain because this was a matter of quite some discussion.

The Kid, I should let it be known, detests PE. I mean he hates it with a red hot hate. And that's unusual. He adored PE and the PE teacher that I had been working with both at the school I was in last year and the one he was in last year. But this year has come with a fury I'd never seen in him when discussing a subject.

And it seems he was not alone.

Something needed to be done about PE. She is too much. A doctor's note every time a kid had to miss PE? the parents asked. You've got to be kidding. Well, explained the tutor, she's very strict. She's too mean. She's too strict. She's too hard on them. She yells. She makes them work to hard. And on it went.

Ricardo and I couldn't even look at each other. I wasn't sure if I was at a Back to School Night or if I was in some kind of first year teacher's worst nightmare of a Back to School Night.

I thought of the young English teacher whom I'd seen up front in the pitiful auditorium. The Kid, like all kids in our small burg at home, can smell a newbie a mile away and he'd mentioned the English teacher didn't know what she was doing. When I saw her arrive in the auditorium, the only one in a skirt, not jeans, clutching a shopping bag and looking nervous, I could sense the new on her too. I wondered how things were going for her in her room, if this was what was happening in the veteran's room.

Our tutor was taking it all like a pro. He knew the math teacher sucked and the gym teacher was a bitch. He knew that that would never change. He also knew these parents were hover parents (they have those here too!) and that they needed a reality check. And he knew the real transition this year, as in all middle schools everywhere, would be for the parents, not the kids. The kids would be fine.

After several parents got up in the middle of the conversation to leave, we went up to speak to the tutor. He was kind and caring and mentioned how hard (and nervous) the Kid was. We explained that he'd skipped a year as well as starting in Spanish for the first time ever. The tutor was impressed by his manners, the questions he asked and his work ethic. He wants the Kid to worry less. We do too. He's exactly what the Kid needs. And probably what they all need. And I found that I wished the other parents could see that too.