I went to my son's Back-to-School Night earlier this evening. Being a school administrator, it's a weird experience: it's a different school, it's in a different district, and the highest rank I carry on that campus is "parent" (which isn't a bad title at all--it's just not what I'm used to at a school). I sit there the whole time listening to the presentations by the teachers; I can hear between the lines, I know what they're saying and, more importantly, what they're not. I feel like a corporate spy, watching and listening like I'm checking out the competition. I can predict the other parents' questions, and I can tell when the teachers' answers are firmly couched in diplomacy.
What REALLY ticked me off about tonight, however, happened about halfway through the evening. During the math class, three parents realized they were in the wrong room. I couldn't wrap my head around it: we ALL had schedules in our hands--even them. We each had a list of classes, in order, with room numbers on it. All the classroom doors--every one--had a number on it. I can understand the parents having a hard time FINDING a room, but these people actually went in, sat down, and listened for more than two minutes before realizing they were supposed to be elsewhere.
And we're worried about the KIDS' test scores?? I'm worried about these parents, y'know, preparing people's food and operating automobiles . . .