Cold Comfort

 
The last few weeks have been a blur. People always say that but in this case it is true. My life was on a set course, destination clear. When you have a child, in my case five of them, there are certain bench marks that you keep in mind; crawling, walking, kindergarten, driving a car, and high school graduation. It sounds simple but when you are a mom you sort of breathe a sigh of relief when your child attains one of the goals so you can check it off of your "must do" list.
Michael is my middle child. As I have said before he is terrifyingly charming when he chooses to be. He is also extremely intelligent, witty and good looking enough to draw more than his share of feminine attention. He had his Senior Prom a few weeks ago. He was devastatingly handsome in his black on black tux. It was not your typical tuxedo. The jacket was longer and reminded of me the Matrix. The only color, other than his shockingly blue eyes, was the splash of crimson provided by the tie. His friend Steve went for the same look but chose gray. Their dates were stunning. At the last moment the new Mustang they were going to borrow was no longer available. Steve’s car was not an option as there were not enough seats for the four of them. I know panic when I smell it.
I was really glad that I was sitting down when the question was posed. "Mom could we borrow a ride?"
"What?"
Michael went on to explain the situation adding that Steve was fully covered by insurance. I just sat and looked at the wall. To clarify, Michael does not have a license due to a family policy that has always been common knowledge. Put simply, maintain your grades (Do YOUR best) and we’ll allow you to get your license.
I thought about this for a few minutes. I love my Tahoe. I figured if it was going to happen at all it would be my rig they took. There was NO way that they were going to leave the house with my husband’s new Avalanche.  Steve reminded me of a cross between Eddie Haskell and Dustin Hoffman from Rain Man. "I’m an excellent driver. Is that a new dress? You look lovely today."
"Ask your daddy. But you have to do it in front of me. This I have to see."
Well I missed the conversation because the boys met him outside. I believe I have mentioned that we are drowning in a sea of testosterone. I rest my case.
Once again I was glad that I was sitting when I heard the verdict. 
"I know where you live boy. One scratch, just one, and I will nail your hide to the barn door. Are we clear?"
The man was actually going to let these two take his "baby"? Seriously? The man adores that truck. He lets me drive it but it is very much HIS truck.
When the boys had gotten dressed and been assured that they would indeed break hearts my husband handed them the keys. I watched him close his eyes and take a deep breath as the truck pulled out of the drive. All he could say was, "The crap a man will do to impress a girl."
Shockingly the boys not only arrived back here before midnight but they had taken the truck through the car wash before returning it! Lauren had met the boys and their dates out at the "spill way" on the lake to take pictures. She suggested stopping near the river but Steve told her in no uncertain terms "That truck is not leaving asphalt. No way. No how. I am not going to explain to that man how mud got on his truck." He is a smart kid.
So Prom was a success. I was in countdown mode.  Everything seemed to be lining up. Graduation requirements, the planets, you name it. Don’t ever fall into the trap of thinking everything is going your way. If it is I’d suggest you move out of the way because you are about to be trampled. 
Michael brought home his cap and gown. Invitations had been sent. Gifts and well wishes were arriving. I made the mistake of relaxing, of taking a deep breath. Graduation was Friday. On Wednesday the phone rang. I should clarify. I was cooking supper so it was LATE Wednesday afternoon, almost 4:30. At 4:31 the world sort of skittered and fell out of orbit. 
The Guidance Counselor was phoning to inform me that Michael had not passed an Independent Study Course (basically a computer class for a given subject with no instructor). I kept asking questions because my mind was not processing the information. I kept hearing how sorry she was but for the most part it sounded like I was at the bottom of a pool trying to hear what someone was shouting. The words just don’t make sense. My stomach was tied into so many knots that it surely resembled a Chinese puzzle and promptly settled somewhere in the vicinity of my feet. I cried. I had trouble breathing for a while.
Thursday morning I went to the school to discuss the situation. I was more than shocked when my husband met me there as he had been at work. The man does NOT miss work for any reason. I am still shocked that he showed up for the actual birth of our children. On second thought maybe I just timed it well. I asked him what he was doing there and he said, "I didn’t think you would want to face this alone." No I didn’t. I wanted to go back home and pull the covers over my head and stay there. He was right. My state of mind was such that I was torn being crying and ripping someone’s head off. We definitely needed cool reasoning to prevail.
The Conference room was almost full. My main complaint (other than the fact that my son had been a lazy lump and not passed this class of course) was that the school had not only not notified me at the mid-point of the sixweek term but they actually let me order and pay for all the graduation supplies. Then they waited until less than 48 hours before the actual ceremony to inform us that our son would not be "walking" with his class. I could feel the steam coming out of my ears.
If I never hear another insincere apology it will be too soon. Any government run institution is filled with people that are punching a time clock, meeting government mandated criteria and regulations and that can "talk a good game". There are rare exceptions of course. I have met a few. There are teachers that genuinely care about their students, that have a passion for teaching. Unfortunately the majority of the ones that cross my path worship at the altar of tenure. 
This Counselor truly cares. She had lost sleep. It seems that some bureaucrat, in their finite wisdom, had taken away the schools ability to monitor the grades of the students for these Independent Study classes. The only one able to see the grades was the actual instructor that is in another part of the state. She didn’t see fit to send progress reports. Michael was not receiving feedback from this instructor either. The Counselor had only received word after she sent an inquiry to satisfy her own curiosity about Michael’s actual GPA. I don’t know that instructor’s name but she is right smack at the top of my SH*T list.
So after four hours of meeting with all of these officials I was exhausted. The only thing that was resolved was the issue of his walking with his class. He wouldn’t be. I asked them point blank, "Why give us so much time? Why didn’t you wait until we all arrived at the school and Michael was in his cap and gown? Why not wait until we were at the door and then you could have just slammed it in our faces? That would have been about as considerate as the way you handled this." I received another apology. All those apologies and a couple of dollars and I’d have two dollars.
Tearful phone calls to relatives telling them not to bother making the trip left me wanting to kick something. Steve asked us to go to the ceremony but I told him that I just couldn’t. I would have gotten sick. MY son was supposed to be walking onto that stage and receiving his diploma. I don’t even remember what I did that night. Michael went to watch his class graduate.
It has now been almost two weeks since the world stopped making sense. Michael is going to take a test for a "Credit Recovery" the first week of June. He will receive his diploma. This requires his ship date for basic training to be changed.  So my son will graduate but the whole experience was ruined. It should have been a time of joy and celebration instead it was filled with stomach churning anxiety, tears and embarrassment. This is just more of my "education tax dollars at work". I still want to kick something.
I do not hold Michael blameless in this fiasco. He was lazy and thought he could "get by". I know him. He pushes the envelope a bit further just to see what he can get away with. It is what teenagers do.  Most of my anger and resentment are directed at the system that failed us. I don’t want to hear about crowded classrooms or overworked instructors. If the woman saw fit to take on the responsibility of this class then she should have put in the time and performed the job she was paid to do. SHE FAILED. That is another reason I detest the whole concept of tenure. A tenured teacher can sit behind her desk until she mummifies regardless of her ability or performance. I have heard first hand "Well she has tenure. It would take an act of God and a lot of evidence to even get a hearing. I know she isn’t doing her job but my hands are tied."
Since this came to light, although it did absolutely nothing to help us, the school is going to investigate the procedures for these types of classes. If the monitors and Counselor are not going to be given immediate access to a student’s grades and other class performance records then the school will no longer offer it as an option to future students. I honestly don’t want another family to go through this. I believe this falls into the category of "cold comfort".