CAROLYN HAX
ADVICE WITH ATTITUDE & A GROUNDED SET OF VALUES
Dear Carolyn: My daughter’s secondgrade teacher gave each kid a certificate at the end of the year. Many had “Nice Friend” or “Good Reader” on them, but a few stood out: “Class Clown,” “Miss Manners” and “Social Butterfly” seemed most egregious to me. My daughter was “Miss Manners,” and she is indeed polite.
The school principal thought the certificates and labels were “heartfelt.” I’ve also contacted the district superintendent but haven’t received a reply. Am I being too sensitive in thinking these are backhanded compliments, or just plain rude labels? I would’ve been more upset had my child been labeled “Class Clown.”
— K.
The district superintendent?
I don’t love some of these, either. I might have said to the teacher: “Superlatives always flirt with stereotypes, and I know you mean well, and I’m seriously splitting hairs. But ‘Funniest’ and ‘Best Manners’ would land better because they’re rewarding vs. labeling.”
Might have said. I also might not have said boo. Because teacher, heartfelt, second grade, June ...
But district superintendent? This teacher ran your kid’s kitten rodeo every business day for nine months, said goodbye to each kitten with lovingly drawn-up certificates that, okay, inched (millimetered?) over the line in some (hardly new) cases, and your idea of an appropriate response was to set your own hair on fire and run to the district superintendent?
Uhhhhhhgh. Pretend I’m handing you two envelopes.
Envelope 1, a letter to said superintendent, cc’d to teacher and principal:
“I am writing to withdraw my complaint about the certificates given in Teacher’s class. While I maintain that, for example, ‘Funniest’ and ‘Best Manners’ would have flirted less with troublesome stereotypes, the awards were obviously well intentioned and missed by small margins.
“My reaction, meanwhile, was out of proportion to any offense on the teacher’s part. I apologize sincerely for taking actions that could imperil a teacher’s job for, it’s clear to me now, trying to show they cared about each child as an individual.” Envelope 2, a certificate:
“That Parent.”
I’m going to ask you to pick one, but only after you read this next part first:
Fates willing, you have a long road ahead of you as a conscientious parent supervising your child’s education.
The road will have hazards, detours and potholes, I promise.
These, however, are reasonable goals:
1. To round out a crew (including your child and the school) that navigates these hazards and meets your child’s educational needs. A parent’s role on this crew is mostly about values, stability and caregiving at home, and hands-on at school when necessary.
2. To have a functional definition of “necessary.” Again, as your child gets older, she will increasingly become the one who determines whether and how you need to intervene at the school. Until then — when she is still tiny — it’s your call and proportion is everything, picking the right strategy for the right battles.
Now. Which envelope?
Hint: The time to ask whether you’re “being too sensitive” is before you put out a hit on someone’s livelihood for an attempted kindness, not after.