Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.

Mercifully, this school year has come to a close. I stopped writing about it because of how atrocious the parents and children had become - well, one particular parent and child. It all started with an email I received from a mother who basically said that I was picking on her son and taking the side of (and I quote) all the "colored boys. I think she was calling me a racist, but we share the same race.



Her son was one of those problem students - I could never catch him doing anything, but he was always the one getting the finger pointed at him. He was sneaky and mean. He was a bad seed. And with that email, I figured out how and why.



Our favorite custodian had to speak to badseed at lunch shortly thereafter and all hell broke loose. Our favorite custodian is African-American.



His mother then sent a KRAZY email to my favorite superintendent. (I'm all about emailing the superintendent - just keep my name out of it.) With that, local administrators leapt into action. There was a meeting with the parents and me and the guidance counselor, and the principals. I kept notes because that was the only way I could keep quiet. These parents (and their child) were angry not only over some clashes that this student instigated with students of other races, but they launched into a diatribe over standards which required that we teach the origins of slavery, the Civil War (we apparently teach it biased, down here in the South), the civil rights movement. They criticized our music teacher and her program of "biased" music. They went on and on until they finally, finally, ran out of steam.

I can't convey the venom they released. Their hateful diatribe would have been funny if it hadn't been their honest feelings.

We had to implement a plan to make certain that this student was "having a good day." Thumbs up/thumbs down. Seriously. "Honey, are you feeling all right today? Are any of the big, bad "minority" students that you have incited picking on you?" Silver lining: one day, I heard the music teacher blasting some country tunes in her room. Of course, it was for our special problem child.

I had a crappy year. Dealing with this kid and then the disaster that was springtime summer school was horrible.

Someone wanted to know if we were sad to see our class leave. I've never been happier to see a group of kids hit the road.