Dear Esteemed Educators,
As the individual responsible for the education of my children, you may not recall my name, but you will likely remember me as “That Parent.” I embrace this title to streamline our interactions and set the stage for a productive year ahead.
I want to take a moment to acknowledge your hard work. It’s no secret that educators often go unrecognized for their dedication, and I want to assure you that you are valued—deeply. You play an essential role in shaping my children’s future and, quite frankly, in preparing them for life beyond these walls.
This year marks a significant milestone: for the first time in 14 years, all five of my children are in school full-time. I had envisioned this as a glorious new chapter, but the reality has proven to be quite the opposite. Managing school paperwork and schedules is an overwhelming task, as I’m sure you can imagine.
Regarding the forms that required my signature—such as those related to running a mile every Monday or consent for photographs—let me clarify. It’s not that I oppose physical activity or photography; I simply underestimated the logistics of keeping track of my children’s backpacks. If my kids are unprepared, feel free to enforce the appropriate consequences.
To the music instructor: Jack is currently without an instrument. This isn’t my oversight; he initially chose strings, believing he could play the electric guitar. After a reality check, he settled on the cello, which, unfortunately, won’t fit in my car. Rest assured, as soon as he accepts the limitations, I’ll be ordering a violin.
To the language arts teacher who assigned my oldest a “0” due to a delayed acquisition of To Kill A Mockingbird, I must express my frustration with Amazon. Their competitive pricing has led to some delays, and I plan to use them as my scapegoat frequently.
To the school nurse, each time I see your number on my caller ID, panic sets in. I know it’s not the principal, but the thought of my child being unwell sends me into a spiral. Just so we’re clear, unless Jack or Henry is visibly ill, they should return to class. Their miraculous recovery within reach of an Xbox suggests they may just be fine.
To the art teachers, I apologize for my late supply payment. The initial cost for supplies was astronomical and has left me in need of a caffeine fix. Let’s just say I’m grateful that toilet paper wasn’t on the supply list this year—what a shocker that would have been!
Finally, to the math instructors, please remind the children that asking me for help is not a valid strategy. When George, my 9-year-old, asked about the probability of drawing a red sock from a collection of red and blue socks, I jokingly replied that it was probably as likely as me surviving the next decade. My sincerest apologies if he recorded that as his answer!
In closing, I hope this letter gives you insight into my perspective as a parent. I’m looking forward to navigating this school year together. If any of you would like to meet up after hours, I hear there’s a fantastic two-for-one deal on beverages nearby; I’ll bring the straws!
Warm regards,
Alexis, a.k.a. That Parent
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In summary, this letter highlights the challenges of parenting in a school environment, while expressing gratitude and understanding toward educators. The humor and honesty reflect the daily realities many parents face.
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