Secret Teacher: having a colleague's child in my class is a nightmare
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Version 0 of 1. I’ve always wanted to teach a year 4 class – it’s been my goal since I graduated. This year I was overjoyed to find I’d been given my dream job, but it’s always a good idea to give a gift horse the once-over, and this one turned out to be not at all what I anticipated. As luck – or whoever made up the year 4 class lists – would have it, yours truly ended up with the daughter of one of my colleagues in my class. This was very bad news. While the child is remarkably average in both ability and behaviour, her mother is correspondingly very clever and over-protective. In fact, her expectations of her daughter far exceed any likely achievements. I knew I was in for trouble the moment this girl’s name appeared on my class list. I’ve already witnessed how tense my colleagues lower years have been at having this child in their class. In our school, each class has to present a morning assembly for all the pupils, and last year, when it was their turn, guess who demanded that her daughter be the star leading the assembly? Then, later in the year, my respected colleague’s daughter got herself into trouble which was clearly her fault. She had been very aggressive to another child: a situation which, according to the school’s established disciplinary procedures, called for the offender’s behaviour to be monitored for the rest of the year using a report book. Surprise, surprise the mother used her influence to make sure that didn’t apply to her girl. In the end, the beleaguered class teacher had to invoke all the demons of senior management to ensure that the school rules were duly applied. The question is, what strategy should I adopt? Should I tell the truth about the girl’s behaviour and ability? If I do that I risk offending the mother, who is a not only a fellow teacher but also senior to me. She is already too involved, constantly popping in and giving me advice, or rather telling me what I should and should not be doing for her precious child. She’s generously offered me the benefit of her professional advice on how to level her child in the key areas of literacy and numeracy, which she has assessed as very high from the wonderful things she has done for mum at home. Unfortunately, she hasn’t produced work of that standard for any of her previous teachers, nor yet this year for me although, of course, we live in hope. So, should I lie, tell her that her daughter is indeed doing fine, and cover my tracks - praise the child and overlook her bad work and behaviour? If I do that, there will be an inevitable reckoning when mum receives the end-of-year report. It’s always hard to deal with parents who are often blind to their child’s worst qualities. But, paradoxically, it is far more difficult when the parent is not only available all day, every day, but also feels they are able to offer you advice and “professional insight”, and expects you to listen to it. No thanks, I neither want nor need advice. I just want to be allowed to get on and teach my class without the added strain of an interfering expert looking over my shoulder at every turn. The emotional bond between a parent and child inevitably creates a conflict of interest when the parent is also a teacher at their child’s school. Teachers need to place their own children in a school situation which does not put their own professional objectivity to the test and gives the child’s teacher, in this case me, a chance to do their job. Follow us on Twitter via @GuardianTeach. Join the Guardian Teacher Network for lesson resources, comment and job opportunities, direct to your inbox. |