Open House Part Two

Open house is an interesting phenomenon of American education. The idea seems to be that a quick first impression lays the groundwork for a year-long partnership. At our school this big top event occurs twice a year: once first quarter and again third quarter. In August – usually the third or fourth day of school – parents follow their students’ schedule and are treated to a 10 minute preview of the year’s curriculum, the textbook, and the class goals. Once this whirlwind show is concluded, they have about three minutes to ask questions of teachers who haven’t yet learned all 150 names and faces. The second event of this nature may take place anywhere between MLK day and spring break – depending on the boss’s mood – and carries a completely different set of parameters. The spring open house is a meet-and-greet for parents and students who are preparing to register or have registered for next year’s classes. (Are you confused yet? Welcome to my world.) One might think that the beginning of second semester would be a good time to meet with struggling kids and their parents in an effort to create a better support system. Instead, at the beginning of second semester, administration is focusing on the next school year and teachers are expected to recruit students into elective and honors programs. (I don’t know about you, but I’m tired just thinking about it.)

Tonight I am taking this hand-shaking, flyer-distributing opportunity to downplay my reputation. Because I hold the honors kids to high standards and make them work hard, many students think I am mean while their parents complain that I am intimidating. (Of course my friends find these descriptions hilarious since they’ve seen me do the Time Warp in the English office and fight over a pickle plucker during a white elephant gift exchange.) So, in an effort to be more approachable, I traded in my usual meet-the-teacher power suit for slacks and a leopard-print sweater. (O.k., it still says predator, but at least it’s soft and fuzzy.) In addition, I plan to turn on the Southern charm. Can’t you just picture it? “Well, hi there! It’s so nice to meet you!” in my best drawl. (Well, maybe not.) Hopefully these ideas, coupled with the fact that several other department members will be present to talk about their standards as well, will comfort the parents of incoming freshmen who worry that I might stuff their children in the oven for dinner. (I’d just like to point out that my house is not made of candy, nor do I have cages large enough to confine teenagers while I fatten them up.)

Ultimately, the problem with open house events – tonight’s and the one earlier in the year – is the lack of substance. At the high school, only good students drag their parents in to meet the teacher. Only parents who are interested in helping their kids actually show up, and these people will call or email throughout the year whenever a question arises. But the parents who don’t bother returning phone calls or contacting teachers when their kids are struggling – the ones I really want to speak with – are nowhere to be seen.