I had a parent-teacher conference today. Actually it was one parent against 2 teachers. Hubby couldn't come because of work, which meant I was outnumbered, but I managed to hold my own, thank you very much. You see, before Zak had his Christmas vacation, I had a major psychotic episode involving one of his teachers. I don't know whose fault it was exactly, but my son was not able to take his 3rd quarter exams because he came in 3 hours late. For some reason, we (meaning me, my hubby and the nanny) just assumed that since his class schedule was in the afternoon, he'd also be taking his exams at the usual time which was 12:30 pm. Huge mistake. Apparently, the whole school had an activity and moved all exams slated in the afternoon in the morning, hence, the reason for Zak's 3 hour delay. I'm an old girl myself , (those who graduate from Assumption are called "old girls" or "old boys") so I know what 3 hours of tardiness means -- NO MAKE UP EXAMS. I think it was different during our time, but now, this SOP is being enforced in Gestapo-like alacrity (a contradiction in terms, I know, but I think they derive great satisfaction when a kid misses an exam and when they tell you that they can't give any make up tests as per school policy). Regardless of what valid reason any child might have -- a broken leg, a pulled out tooth, 41 C temp, and other similar mishaps -- the "no make up exam" policy stays. That's just the way it is. No excuse. No exemptions.
Of course, this SOP did not go well with my 10 am coffee. I just had to call the teacher and explained why Zak was late. I said there was a reason why I enrolled my child in the afternoon class and not in the morning class. The incessant changing of schedule was making his circadian rhythm, his internal clock go cuckoo. Of course, my laments and rantings fell on deaf ears. "No make up exams, Mrs. Pijuan, it's school policy. Heil, Hitler!" So I cracked, I just broke down in tears angry and frustrated at why Zak couldn't take his tests. I screamed, I sobbed, I made a fool of myself. The teacher tried to calm me down. As a last recourse (and to stop me from making an even bigger fool of myself), she told me that they would deliberate on the matter along with the academic coordinator, etc., etc.
And so, the verdict was passed this afternoon. It went well I think. We all kissed and made up. Zak still can't take the test (the Gestapo wins!) but his grades will be adjusted accordingly. They'll only be computing 2/3 of his grades sans the 1/3 from his missed exam, so he'll pretty much retain his previous VS in Computer and Civics or maybe even get higher marks. (I think they were trying to appease me by giving Zak a higher VS in both subjects.)
Sometimes, we mothers have to put our foot down. And, it pays to be dramatic sometimes...
Of course, this SOP did not go well with my 10 am coffee. I just had to call the teacher and explained why Zak was late. I said there was a reason why I enrolled my child in the afternoon class and not in the morning class. The incessant changing of schedule was making his circadian rhythm, his internal clock go cuckoo. Of course, my laments and rantings fell on deaf ears. "No make up exams, Mrs. Pijuan, it's school policy. Heil, Hitler!" So I cracked, I just broke down in tears angry and frustrated at why Zak couldn't take his tests. I screamed, I sobbed, I made a fool of myself. The teacher tried to calm me down. As a last recourse (and to stop me from making an even bigger fool of myself), she told me that they would deliberate on the matter along with the academic coordinator, etc., etc.
And so, the verdict was passed this afternoon. It went well I think. We all kissed and made up. Zak still can't take the test (the Gestapo wins!) but his grades will be adjusted accordingly. They'll only be computing 2/3 of his grades sans the 1/3 from his missed exam, so he'll pretty much retain his previous VS in Computer and Civics or maybe even get higher marks. (I think they were trying to appease me by giving Zak a higher VS in both subjects.)
Sometimes, we mothers have to put our foot down. And, it pays to be dramatic sometimes...
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