Last night was Back to School Night for parents. Meaning that I got to stay here from 6:30 to 8:30 and hold a mini school day for the parents. Each class lasted 10 minutes, and during that time I had to attempt to convince these parents that the $15,000 that they are spending per year for their child to attend Maranatha is worth it. That's not much pressure, huh?
For the most part, everything went fantastic. I have a pretty great chemistry story (I came home the first week of high school chemistry convinced I would fail, and somehow through the process of working hard to pass the class, I fell in love with the subject), which the parents ate up. Then there is my masters in chem ed and the fact that my masters project was on chemistry anxiety and the effects of high school chemistry experience on chemistry anxiety. This all helped me defend my case fairly well for my chemistry parents, and I think they liked me for the most part.
My one Algebra II class, however, was a different story. I do not do anything for Algebra II except get all of the notes, material, assignments, even the syllabus, from the primary Algebra II teacher. And I adore the primary teacher, but he is TOUGH, and it keeps me on my toes trying to stay on top of things in order to teach all the material. So in the process of explaining the rigorous nature of the class to the parents, yet telling them how willing I am to help their child after school with any problems that they have, I said something about the "insane" amount of material that we have to cover. After I said this, one parent looked at me with an expression of shock mixed with disgust.
"Did you REALLY just say "insane?"
"Um... yes?"
"REALLY? You just said an INSANE amount of material?"
"Yes, maam, I did. The state standards are high, and we want to meet them."
"Hmph. Ok, then"
So I guess I will never, ever mention that word again at Back to School Night. Like tonight, when I have to deal with a whole new set of parents (last night was just last names A-K, tonight I get L-Z!!)
For the most part, everything went fantastic. I have a pretty great chemistry story (I came home the first week of high school chemistry convinced I would fail, and somehow through the process of working hard to pass the class, I fell in love with the subject), which the parents ate up. Then there is my masters in chem ed and the fact that my masters project was on chemistry anxiety and the effects of high school chemistry experience on chemistry anxiety. This all helped me defend my case fairly well for my chemistry parents, and I think they liked me for the most part.
My one Algebra II class, however, was a different story. I do not do anything for Algebra II except get all of the notes, material, assignments, even the syllabus, from the primary Algebra II teacher. And I adore the primary teacher, but he is TOUGH, and it keeps me on my toes trying to stay on top of things in order to teach all the material. So in the process of explaining the rigorous nature of the class to the parents, yet telling them how willing I am to help their child after school with any problems that they have, I said something about the "insane" amount of material that we have to cover. After I said this, one parent looked at me with an expression of shock mixed with disgust.
"Did you REALLY just say "insane?"
"Um... yes?"
"REALLY? You just said an INSANE amount of material?"
"Yes, maam, I did. The state standards are high, and we want to meet them."
"Hmph. Ok, then"
So I guess I will never, ever mention that word again at Back to School Night. Like tonight, when I have to deal with a whole new set of parents (last night was just last names A-K, tonight I get L-Z!!)
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