Tables clamoured round a a hall that stood
Empty several hours back, when basketball was done
And the squeaks of students trainers fade
Into a maze of darkened hallways where
The teachers lingered til the sun had set.
And with those cups of steaming tea and snacks
All squirreled under fold out desks they sit
With elbows propping up their weary heads,
Watching as the parents walk, circulating,
Searching desperately for names on tags,
Names they’ve heard so many times before,
But never seen a face to match.
And when they sit the teachers sigh and run theur eye
Over numbers spilling out of books.
I studied English, is what they think
As they rattle through the data sheets.
I wish I were at home, they think,
Warm, with wine and box sets on the telly,
Not cold and lost, in a draughty hall
With parents wanting nothing more than for you to call
Their precious child an Einstein of some sorts.
It’s parents’ evening today and I’m nervous. I absolutely hate the thought of it because all parents see their children as little angels and, quite frankly, they are not!
I’m just going to go and buy and a load of chocolate and whenever anything bad happens, I can just have a square. I can really understand why teachers are in danger of becoming overweight or alcoholics or both.
One thing that I am really thankful for is the fact that the parents’ evenings are now online so nobody can reach across a table and punch me. Wish me luck.