Mailbag Sunday

Welcome to the first edition of S.I.N.A.F.F. mailbag. Our staff receives so many letters⁽¹⁾ that, regrettably, we can’t respond to them all. We do appreciate your feedback, though!

Last week, we received a letter from Lee Anne⁽²⁾, of North Carolina, who writes:

I liked your post about the inner perfect Mom, but there was a part of it that rang so true for me that you put in stark relief. What’s up with the immediate reaction when confronted by a person in authority over your kids with a clipboard to think that your kid has done something wrong?!?! I have three typical kids. They’re not perfect, they’re not hellions, they’re just normal (or as normal as my offspring could ever be expected to be) 12 and 9 year olds. So, why do I immediately jump to the worst case scenario conclusion about their behavior? My first thought when I hear that there’s a “situation” in one of their classes with bullying or talking or something like that is “I wonder if my kid was involved…” They’ve never had poor conduct marks, yet I always go there first.

Lee Anne, I know what you mean. I was known by my first name in my high school principal’s office, but not because I was a frequent flyer for bad reasons. It was mostly because my mom was president of the school board. Of course, this being a Small School in a Small Town, they knew everyone’s first name. And last name. And who your siblings were, and pretty much your entire genealology. But seriously, I didn’t get into trouble. I was a do-gooder. A rule-follower. A pleaser.

So naturally, the first time I got called to my son’s elementary school principal’s office to “discuss” a “situation” in which he had been “involved”, I was beyond mortified. How could my kid be involved in an “issue” at school? Even still, whenever I see the school’s phone number on my caller ID, that’s where I go first. Oh no, what did he do now. Followed by, I guess he wasn’t faking when he said his belly hurt this morning. Followed by, did he forget his trumpet / lunch / homework / gym clothes again?

But the aforementioned “incident” wasn’t such a big deal, really. The principal handled it expertly, my son learned his lesson, and off we went. And that’s Lee Anne’s point – that most of us have pretty good kids, who behave within the range of what most would consider normal. It’s not the end of the world if you get called to the office, because it’s a learning experience for your kid. (Bonus: blog fodder!) And, chances are, when they call you from school, most times you should just go straight exasperation because it’s “what did he forget” rather than “what did he do.”

So then, why indeed, Lee Anne asks, do we go first to the worst case scenario?

I don’t have an answer to that. (Were you expecting one?) But maybe my scores of readers do. Feel free to chime in.

⁽¹⁾ Well, not that many. But keep writing!
⁽²⁾ Not not her real name.