Letters I Never Sent

Letters I Never Sent to My Daughter's Third Grade Teacher

Dan Nuttall

Dear Editor,

Please consider this piece for publication in Young Children. It is what I, as a parent, would like to convey to my eight-year-old daughter's teacher--but I dare not. The knowledge that I have as an early childhood educator does not help a bit. I know the literature on continuities in early childhood education--continuities between the home and school and continuities within the school. I have taught in programs with parents as partners, and I have, in my current role as professor of early childhood education, advised countless parents to approach the school, nursery school, or child care center when they were dissatisfied. Invariably these parents replied that it would only make matters worse, or that it was better to keep your mouth shut, or that they'd tried it and it didn't do any good. They know of what they spoke.

It has been a humbling experience, and a frightening one, for me to discover how little the accumulated wisdom in our professional literature really speaks to the circumstances of parents like me, parents who have discovered that the stakes are too high to open this particular conversation with this particular teacher. When I actually meet with her, I will temper my points, modulate my voice, tread so very carefully. Much will remain unspoken because I am so acutely aware of just how vulnerable my child is in this affair. My first agenda is the agenda of every parent: I must not make the situation any worse.

So where will parents' voices really be heard by teachers? Can parents' voices be heard in the professional literature without being encapsulated in someone else's study, framed by someone else's commentary; can parents be heard speaking on their own behalf? Sometimes they can, but still, not often.

I hope that you will seriously consider publishing my piece--a parent's contribution to the conversation that we are all trying to precipitate between parents and teachers and children.

SEPTEMBER

dear teacher,

my child was crying when I put her on the school bus this morning
she hates school
she hates math
and she hates you

last year she loved math
she added numbers in the tens and hundreds and thousands
for the sheer pleasure of it
she figured out the money for her class shop
and calculated how many cans of soup were needed
to feed all of the kids in her school who were having soup.

this year she does row after row
of neat little calculations
facts to ten
in regiments on the stark white page
look at this
she says
I could do this in kindergarten
and she could
I haven't learned anything in math this year she says
but she has
she has learned to hate math

OCTOBER

dear teacher

last night I watched my child
frantically demonstrate that she could write the names
of all her classmates
in cursive writing
punctuated by
see mommy
I can write

last year she belonged to a community of writers
she wrote up a storm
letters
advertisements
speeches
stories
she wrote about children who loved school
and she wrote in cursive writing

this year she has to print
grade three children are not ready to write
you say
she has to practice each letter first
you say
I could do this in grade two
she says
doesn't she know that Mrs. Gray
taught us how to write last year
I haven't learned anything in writing
this year
she says
but she has
she has learned to hate writing

NOVEMBER

dear teacher

last night my child had a friend to dinner
I asked them to share a dessert
we're not allowed to share at school they told me
sharing's not allowed in grade three

last year they shared
possessions
time
lunches
laughter
ideas
they cooperated
and collaborated
and supported
each other
and made decisions about how things should be organized
in their classroom

this year in your classroom she sits next to her friends
in a row
silent
admonished to get on with her own work
and keep her possessions
neat
tidy
and separate
from the others
yesterday she asked you if the children could take turns
to help you read the story
and you said
no

DECEMBER

dear teacher

my child was crying when I put her on the school bus this morning
I wiped her tears
and told her
to be quiet
and still
and respectful at school
and to try to see the best in you

she is only eight
but she knows
as I know
that we are at your mercy
we know that you can slam your door
just as tight as you thin straight mouth
and shut my child
out