The cobbler's children

When you imagine the adage about the cobbler's children going barefoot, it's not hard to extend the analogy to the teacher's child failing middle school. In the last trimester, I've watched my son's grades plummet like autumn leaves, helpless to stop their inevitable descent. It's as if I were waiting for my addict friend to hit rock bottom before he'd allow my intervention.

His mother and I are at wits end, nearly bald from the figurative hair-pulling. Dealing with a battle over medication for ADHD and unfeeling teachers that insist of giving grades like 20% from which almost no one can recover does not help in any way. My greatest fear is that he would have to repeat 8th grade. If I could in anyway afford it, I'd school him myself, but I cannot go without income for two or more years helping him to learn self discipline and to appreciate his own education.

After the confrontation and discussion this morning, I'd like to think that there will be improvement this week. I pray that will be the case.