An Open Letter of Apology to Teachers, Plus Also the Real Reason You Shouldn’t Strike… Maybe

Based on the events that did, and did not, transpire at my house this summer, I feel I need to apologize to all the teachers who are eagerly preparing for their students in just 1 short week.

I want you to know I tried to pick up the baton you passed to me in June. With excitement I hung up schedules, I made “learning tubs” for each of my children, I assigned them “work time” each day, I spent a bajillion dollars on books I thought they would like. I set my house and schedule up to support my kids being home and was confident that they would learn a thing or two on my watch. My struggling reader? We were going to fix that and get her to grade level. I organized binders of lessons. I devised a reward system that exchanged productive minutes for tv minutes and Carpenter Cash that could be traded for real cash. And just like you, I wanted to educate the whole child so I signed them up for swim lessons and football camps and took them to the free school lunches and had friends over to play. All of this was an effort to simulate what you did with them during the school year, and what they love about school.

But as I look around my house now, at the very end of this summer race, I feel I need to do some groveling. I’ll admit, my kids did very little reading this summer. I tried to make them, but they have a major emotional aversion to doing anything I want them to do. Plus also I just ran out of energy. I realized half way through the summer that I needed some support staff: cooks, custodians, paraeducators, and maybe even some admin to help me stay on track. And without those fine people to help I had to lower the bar of what I could accomplish with my charges. The schedule I implemented began and ended sometime in June, maybe even within 24 hours. We managed to complete 3 tutoring lessons with my struggling reader and we left off on long vowels (phonics aren’t “in” right now anyway, right?). I started handing out Carpenter Cash for simple tasks, such as flushing after using the bathroom. Yes, I even paid my kids for acting normal while I took them out into public and on errands. We took the advice of T Pain, and “got low”.

And now, as the days inch closer to the first day of school I am filled with fear about the impending teacher strike. I’ve spent ten weeks with my children and I can tell you, we need you. They need you. I need you. Right now the world doesn’t make sense. The kids have lost interest in the above ground pool we bought. What was fun in the beginning of the summer has now been added to the chore list as I make them go outside and swim for 30 minutes a day “or else.” We’re trying to watch some educational tv but it’s sandwiched between episodes of Steven Universe and Uncle Grandpa, which are probably undoing any real learning that might have inadvertently happened this summer.

It’s not only my kids’ brain deterioration that I am worried about with this strike, though. Selfishly I need you to not strike for my sake. I’ve held it together all summer but I’m not sure I can give you a few more days. In the past ten weeks I’ve already dealt with: kids sitting on furniture in wet swim suits after repeatedly being told not to, the piles of dishes in the kitchen from all the “cooking” they did while I slept in until 7, the three tables my son has covered in engineering challenges of his own design that usually result in leaving the glue gun plugged in and me burning myself as I clean up after him, the countless items on Christmas wish lists they’ve now filled my Amazon cart with (Side note: No wonder stores start stocking shelves for Christmas so early, they are bored!) and I have PTSD over how many times my 11 year old has said “just watch this Vine, it’s so funny!” wasting minutes of my life I’ll never get back.

Please take my children, dear teachers. They are ready. I am ready. They may not be any smarter than they were when you gave them to me in June, but they are taller. Is that ok? Because that’s all I accomplished. And even though my own children don’t want to do school with me, I know 25 students who will be walking through my door next month will want to. I need my routine back. I need my classroom where life makes sense. I need to be with people who appreciate my schedules and “learning tubs.”

Please consider my plea,

Maribel Carpenter Smith

Frazzled mom who is against the strike for her own selfish reasons
6^th grade teacher who understands we need to take a stand for our kids J