I Am An Involved Parent
Last week while I was in Vegas soaking up the desperation and low bid acronym chumming that is known as The Fed. Employee WorkShop, my son was pulled into his Junior High School principal's office and *SEARCHED* for *DOPE*....
He was called out of class, marched to the principal's office, questioned (Are you felling okay, carlos? Are you taking any medications? Are you SURE? Are your EYES DIALATED???) and told to turn all his pockets inside out. Look into the light...Then they searched his locker. Then, finding NOTHING, they sent him back to class.
Carlos's dad, Chato, called the school the very next day, after he'd heard. (Oddly, the school did not contact me or Chato, Carlos told us all about this violation because he was rightfully pissed off.)
The principal said that a teacher, whom he refused to name, thought Carlos looked 'stoned' that morning in the hall.
"It was that bitch Mrs. Martin," I told Chato. "She called Carlos 'lazy' because he is getting a C in her *HEALTH* class...She wears furry shoes and sucks at her teeth like a rodent. Fucking food pyramid enthusiast."
I suggested Chato call her and accuse her of racism. She is so white her skin hurts my eyes. It's sort of green hue with freckles that spell out JESUS THINKS BROWN PEOPLE SHOULD BE MY GARDENER.
He refused. Chato is like that. Easy on people. It's because he's mexican. And, he is stoned, most of the time.
"I've said what I needed to say," Chato told me, "I told Mr. K that if Carlos were ever pulled into his office again for this sort of thing, or anything, that one of us had better be present. If they think my child is ill or on drugs, that is serious enough for a parent to be involved..."
blah blah blah reasonable blah.
I'm not the calm reasonable phone calling parent. I'm the Actions Speak Louder than Words arm of our relationship.
I have spent the morning filling a couple of vials of urine, and I had Carlos fill a few last night, plus the dogs, which wasn't easy, and one little jar with wet kitty litter, and I'm going by the school momentarily. Infact, I'll make weekly deliverys. Those fuckers have any questions, they can consult a lab.
I am quite literally pissed off.
Last week while I was in Vegas soaking up the desperation and low bid acronym chumming that is known as The Fed. Employee WorkShop, my son was pulled into his Junior High School principal's office and *SEARCHED* for *DOPE*....
He was called out of class, marched to the principal's office, questioned (Are you felling okay, carlos? Are you taking any medications? Are you SURE? Are your EYES DIALATED???) and told to turn all his pockets inside out. Look into the light...Then they searched his locker. Then, finding NOTHING, they sent him back to class.
Carlos's dad, Chato, called the school the very next day, after he'd heard. (Oddly, the school did not contact me or Chato, Carlos told us all about this violation because he was rightfully pissed off.)
The principal said that a teacher, whom he refused to name, thought Carlos looked 'stoned' that morning in the hall.
"It was that bitch Mrs. Martin," I told Chato. "She called Carlos 'lazy' because he is getting a C in her *HEALTH* class...She wears furry shoes and sucks at her teeth like a rodent. Fucking food pyramid enthusiast."
I suggested Chato call her and accuse her of racism. She is so white her skin hurts my eyes. It's sort of green hue with freckles that spell out JESUS THINKS BROWN PEOPLE SHOULD BE MY GARDENER.
He refused. Chato is like that. Easy on people. It's because he's mexican. And, he is stoned, most of the time.
"I've said what I needed to say," Chato told me, "I told Mr. K that if Carlos were ever pulled into his office again for this sort of thing, or anything, that one of us had better be present. If they think my child is ill or on drugs, that is serious enough for a parent to be involved..."
blah blah blah reasonable blah.
I'm not the calm reasonable phone calling parent. I'm the Actions Speak Louder than Words arm of our relationship.
I have spent the morning filling a couple of vials of urine, and I had Carlos fill a few last night, plus the dogs, which wasn't easy, and one little jar with wet kitty litter, and I'm going by the school momentarily. Infact, I'll make weekly deliverys. Those fuckers have any questions, they can consult a lab.
I am quite literally pissed off.
posted by Yahtzee at 12:50 PM
6 Comments:
Hopefully you have A) cooled off, and B) graphically depicted Hell to the school and each of its board members. I've fired up my all-to-long-dormant "blog," by the way, and I am running it past the masters. What can you tell me?
...No, I didn't really take the urine to the Junior High. Carlos and I had a good time thinking up revenge scenarios, though, this being one...
Still, he is 13 and would not forgive me for showing up to his school with a six pack of piss.
I did offhandedly mention, to the principal, when he called me, after reading my crazed and angry email response, that I was certainly amenable to providing the school with regular samples if they thought it would help avoid this sort of 'confusion' and 'stereotyping' in the future.
All manner of samples. From the entire family (can't be too careful). Just to keep the record straight.
You should send me the link to your long dormant now fired up blog and I'll add it to my links list, btw.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Dahhhhhhhhhhhhling, if you accept this Brit's scientific description, "the entire family" includes relatives you only meet at zoos and Tupperware parties. Oooh! I might go through the trash at clinics and hand over those pregnancy pops!
Of course there's no substitute for label-switching fun. Or talking to the Principal only through sock puppets.
sock puppets. I love them.
Or those anatomically correct dolls.
Effective communication: it's what seperates us from the beasts.
That and shoes made from ..uh..the beasts.
Hi,
I'd like to "send" a "link", but I don't know how(!). I'm a bit of a computer dork. Can you just click the blue Vanx and grab it? When I figure out how to add links to my screed, you're in.
My first post is on business junkets to Vegas, morphing out of stuff on New Orleans. Near the bottom. Shadows of your Vegiad.
Bye for now,
V
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