Mr. Math Man and the Feat to Fight the School System

​#AITA?

My daughter pulls up the grades. She works hard. We are in the third quarter of an extensive 2-month evaluation for an IEP or 504 or 401K or whatever the fuck: something, anything to accommodate support her success in this smegma-flavored hot pocket of a fat fold we identify as: South Floridian academia... 

And this math teacher, who is absolutely horrible and is failing basically every kid... is holding her back. 

Wait. No, no. I am not THAT parent who thinks their kid shits rainbows because they are "mnnnmyyy mini me." And I hope you read that with the whiniest, vocal-fried white girl Starbucks yoga breath latte that you could muster. #mmmnnnyeah

I've been chill. I've attended all the meetings. Took all the blame. Agreed to every suggestion. Subserviently agreed to ruining her, ruining motherhood, ruining the planet. And now, I'm just done. 

Done with fake, insensitive, childless administrators who think owning a cat and birthing a person are comparable.

Done with angry, underpaid teachers taking out their aggressions with the system on these kids.

Done with anyone and anything that isn't kind, understanding and supportive in these vulnerable times. 

Done with selfish, thoughtless, shitty, rigid people.

I've done an emotional cleaning and the people who were my "OG's" have devolved into the selfish fair-weather friends. I guess they have revealed who they've always been. They’re  gone. This house is clean.

My kid was in a bad car accident last week. Car totaled. No injuries. No real friends to ventilate and recount it to. The usuals who I once reported my daily intake and outtakes to: unavailable. It took a traumatic event to realize they've been gone for a while now. One even got off the phone with me after I said my child was in a car accident. Had to go abruptly, to ask what her boyfriend needed when he called her name out. The same guy she disavowed, branded as "toxic" and "narcissistic" (watch out for people who call everyone ELSE a narcissist, chances are: it's them). This drunk, cheater, loser, EX, meaningless fling was suddenly FaceBook officially reporting their spring and summer plans and the meals they just shared in the home she said she had to forcibly remove him from days prior, days after he was supposed to leave town. The guy she's been fighting with for months. This same nothing of a person said her name as a question, and she fucking had to go as I just confessed one of the scariest things ever. And then texted me hours later with some nonsense before remembering what I had divulged. Texted. RIP.

If that wasn’t shitty enough, one day prior, the girl I thought was my BFF since HS, who has claimed to have been too steeped in work and school to answer any of my S.O.S. calls in the past year, who called it "taking inspiration from how hard you (meaning: me) work" and regaled me about how she takes part in literally ZERO social events because she is so hard pressed with life.... Well, I found her at a park event my daughter’s birthday forced me to. There she was: drowning in over-priced beer and a group of friends she allegedly has no time for, containing her potato of a boyfriend she makes fun of as basically being a pole to use when she gets bored. The same wet rag of a man she drags behind her like a childhood doll. The same doldrum who gets her time in non-crisis situations, her recreation and fun. Right there. I hadn't seen her in well over a year. Almost a year and a half. I avoided her for three rotations of this park, hoping she'd stumble out the way she came in, and I wouldn’t have to pretend she hadn’t broken my fucking heart. I almost avoided her, until I was spotted by our other mutual friend who was far more observant of the familiarity of me than my own "BFF.” The other chick seemed honestly concerned about me- more so than her. We all exchanged fake pleasantries as though I hadn't seen her since high school. Almost as though we hadn't spent the very worst and best days of our whole lives together. Like maybe she forgot my name. I feigned being over-heated and menopausal to avoid acknowledging my intense broken heartedness. 

Both of those aforementioned “OG” douchebags wrote on my FB wall to acknowledge my birthday like every other person I have never met who is only following me on FB for gig leads and who FB told them to say Happy Birthday to. Not like a best friend would. No calls. No "when are we going out to celebrate?" Just a sweaty side hug and small talk about how big the kids are and stifling how much I fucking hate these historically inaccurate recreations of history in an over-priced park event with over-dressed un-showered pedophiles roaming amid half naked goth kids with anime faces and SnM types at the wrong costume party that my "friends" cheerfully waited for all fucking year to attend. 

I took accountability for the demise of these friendships. I meditated on the meaning of the loss, the evolution, the grief. 

The first one who wasted the last ten years of my life, who texted “is today really your birthday” because she’s been so far up her own ass to realize I could have a day or a moment that didn’t center around her stupid life, who TEXTED me, more so to ask what we were doing for HER birthday: a season. Days later, she hounds me to ask if she’s out of the “circle of trust.” This lame, self-help lingo she shits out from YouTube tarot and TikTok’s on narcissism as means to determine who is worth her time or not. I’m too perplexed at her absolute vapidness to muster a response. This passive aggressive way to avoid accountability for her absolute vomit bucket of a friendship. And if I don’t respond, I’ll be the asshole she shit talks, rather than realizing how selfish she’s been. 

The real heart stab: my reason. Friends from the age of 14. Fuck. A reason I'm not yet ready to meditate on and fully learn from. I'm now in the winter before regrowth. Change fucking hurts. 

And amid this hurt, and rejection, severe exhaustion, and a million health things I am contending with alone that I so would have loved to share with either of them before being ditched for a dude, particularly when my kid hit another woman’s car, when the shock of what could have been lost resolved and the totality of what was broken was assessed, I separated my hurt from this event. I took full responsibility for the woman, car and children he hit (no injuries: just broken car parts and a heaping dose of healthy fear and newfound respect for the road...and an insurance hike and a new payment.). Our car - totaled. We just paid it off last month. This woman was driving her kids to school and then going to work, herself. Did I cry and beg her to understand that he was a new driver and to forgive him and let us flee before the cops came to issue a ticket on this muthafukaz LEARNING PERMIT? No. I held him accountable for his mistakes. I put my shit aside and made sure things were done right. We waited. Together. I offered him support, education, and guidance. I took the hit with insurance and made sure the woman had full coverage for her repairs, gave her kids bubbles while we waited for the trooper, apologized, and made zero excuses. I didn't have to give her his resume as a testament to his character and to show her how great I still am, even though I created a person who is capable of mistakes. He fucked up. We owned it. He needs more time before navigating the treacherous roads of Miami during rush hour. I still sort of blame dad for allowing him to drive in those conditions, but we owned it as a united front. He doesn’t shit rainbows. Lesson learned. 

 When my daughter had an argument with another snot-nosed mean girlfriend, when she was not being as sensitive as she could have been, we discussed it. We offered apologies to the child and mother of said child (who believes HER child actually does shit rainbows), and we learned. I held her accountable. I taught her the power of her words, and to learn the variances in not losing relationship with words by lying, but learning how to decipher when honesty's sharp edges are better expressed as questions, than statements. Fucking 6-year-olds. Lesson learned.

But this Abacunt, MathTaterTool is aware of my kid's struggles. He is aware of her depression, anxiety, social issues and the fact that we are in the middle of a fucking evaluation that may identify some actual issues and help support her. She picked her grade up from an F to a B in the world's shittiest school subject,  earned from the shittiest teacher during the worst fucking time of our lives, and it is going back down now because of a point. ONE POINT. And final grades are collective from the past few quarters, so she may get a D... or have to retake it. (And he is the only one who teaches this course). Or she may miss camp, which is all she looks forward to all year. 

And dealing with the Vice Principal who is as vapid as they come as the single point of contact is no help. So, after watching the tennis match with "Dad" and "MathTaint" where this fucker owns ZERO accountability for his poor teaching methods, and will not move on this shit, I finally chimed in. And if you know me, if I sit down to write, I'm fucking saying everything.

HOWEVER…since this is my kid's school and their dad's employer, I had to do my best to tone down my... well, my me'ness. 

Too much? Am I the asshole?

Hello Ms. Salamander (as we will call her for now to avoid identifying her and making my kid's life worse at school),

I need your help. I apologize for the long-winded email. Admittedly, my kids being in peril evokes an untethered passion from me and suppresses my means for verbosity. 

R* is making tremendous progress and is working so hard. I received an email from her biology teacher praising her remarkable improvement just this morning. This was followed by an ongoing exchange with R*’s father and Mr. Math Man*.

R*’s math teacher remains inflexible and unrealistic. We have been working to qualify R* for accommodations to push her to succeed. Unfortunately, this math teacher will not allow her to get additional points unless she attends a Saturday Academy. He refuses to award points for her tutoring program - also an (*name Of school)-appointed program, per the school’s recommendation for supplemental learning. Like the academy, she studies after school, sometimes upwards to THREE HOURS in an evening, several times a week (unlike the academy that is solely on Saturdays).  If he rewards the Saturday attendees, why can’t it be for everyone? (This question becomes one you may recognize in his correspondence below.)

Consistently, she is ONE POINT from the grade needed to be awarded the higher grade mark. And he won’t budge or offer anything to help. I encouraged her to speak with him, but he remains stoic and untenable.

She isn’t sleeping, she’s working all day and all night, as is (Brother*)— which is why he is always sick (almost as often as R*). Our doctor has been gracious enough to evaluate them and provide medical excuses for their absences. And no, they aren’t excused because I work in healthcare. Having access to a doctor who is willing to evaluate them ‘on call’ is the only perk to our circumstances. Preventing their illnesses (care of exhaustion and exposure to other sick kids) is beyond their clinical control. And frankly, our medical team is unwilling to feign diagnoses for the sake of excusing kids who simply do not want to attend school. Clinical care workers are seemingly also subject to unfair assumptions. I am sure more working parents would take this opportunity if it were more readily available. 

We have changed diets, sleep patterns, everything. These illness are largely stress-related and uncontrollable in their current environment. We fix what we can and acquiesce to the rest. 

(Brother*) is in a better emotional state (this year), but he is sick, again, after working tirelessly to study for SATs (tomorrow is his second attempt at the exam), while maintaining advanced class expectations, music requirements, and performing (such as the concert last night that didn’t get him home and to bed until after 11PM. Expect another medical excuse after his Zoom with the doctor at 11). 

We understand (school*) is a vigorous program, and we know what we signed up for when they were accepted. And no, returning them to their home school is not the solution, so please don’t suggest that again. But when there is a teacher who is seemingly working with his thumb on the scale, I have to call it out. 

I know many of these “points” are subjective to the teacher, and that incentives to achieve extra points can be offered. Particularly when the margin is ONE and it is clearly observed how hard a student is working to improve. And the excuse that “if I did it for R*, I would have to do it for everyone” is nonsense (see below). If one kid is struggling, there are probably several more who could benefit from a little wriggle room on difficult math units. 

Frankly, to use notes on a 20-minute old lesson that may require a little practice isn’t cheating the system. I’m sure a more creative teacher can achieve ways to test the mastery of these lessons without forcing students to instantaneously memorize foreign concepts. 

I’m also sensitive to the shortage on teachers and the bind that schools are in. I witness firsthand the exhaustion and unfair hurdles teachers face that are forcing the “good ones” towards extinction. 

I’m empathic about mitigating nationwide regulations imposed on schools that are deprived of clauses for anomalies. I also work in highly regulated environment where AHCA, DCF, JACO, OSHA, (and so many other state, county and federal agencies) impose invariable limitations that directly impacts our care practices. I understand the struggle to support a company’s expectations, while also finding aberrations in seemingly static policies to meet the unique needs of our patients, your students. 

Herein lies the anomaly: R* is not being lazy. I’m not asking for a grade examination/evaluation simply to award her with unearned merit. Anyone who knows me knows that I am vehemently against the “everybody gets a trophy just for showing up” concept. I am witnessing her caffeine intake at 12AM to finish assignments while working with her exhausted tutors who Zoom with her each night until she ‘gets it.’ She isn’t unintelligent, she just has a varying learning style. Time, rephrasing, reflection and repetition is what I have observed to be the most effective. I understand how hard it must be to teach when 45 kids in a classroom all have variant learning styles. I understand how being untrained in human development can limit the perspective of an unappreciated, exhausted instructor who has difficulties in siphoning who is lazy, who is challenged mentally and how individual emotional challenges impacts student environments from fully absorbing and applying new information. 

I don’t fault every teacher nor do I school shame when one of my children falls short of our/your/their expectations or ventilates about an unpleasant interaction with a teacher. I acknowledge the difficulties in separating the constant criticism from unrealistic parents (shouting at you about how perfect their kids are, devoid of personal responsibility from failure) from the ones who are presenting a kink in the system that may require further investigation. 

Ms. Salamander*, how can I keep her motivated to push herself to the point of exhaustion when the result is the same? ONE point could mean a B. She’s earned it. Look at what she has accomplished with support from her family, the administrative staff, the school social worker, her therapist, personal motivation, hard work, exertion, and exhaustion…

In brief: this math man (I really said that this time) is neither in alignment with your program nor our plan to rehabilitate, motivate and accommodate R*.

Can you please tell me where we are in the IEP/504 accommodations process? Would the outcome potentially give her some dedicated system to support her in these instances? 

Ms. Salamander*, from the last meeting we had, she went from an F to almost a B. Mr. Geometry (yeah, I also said that) is well-aware of this evaluation phase of her accommodation plan, and yet he won’t help with the ONE point to get her from C to B that could save her from retaking this class or summer school because of his unfair, subjective extra points system? This feels personal. 

Please see the screen shots below. Please tell me what to do. You can see the startling variances between responses from her BIOLOGY teacher this morning (which is as difficult a subject as math, in my opinion and one she has had to push just as hard to improve) and the Geometry teacher (below). 

What more can I do? 

Regards,

*Pissed Parent

Biology Email this morning:

Text with R*

From Dad to Douche:

Geometry Asshat's Response:

Ughk.