(and what that means for us moms)

My daughter graduated high school (yay!) and is heading off to Tufts University in Massachusetts next month. So I feel I can finally share with you what went down during my daughter’s 10 years of attending this all-girl’s school.

I’d received a handful of phone calls from the school principal, starting with, “Rebecca, can you come in tomorrow morning? I'd like to speak with you…” and “Rebecca, we need to talk…”

My heart would sink when this principal's name popped up on my phone. Because I knew she was calling to chastise ME — a mother in her f*cking forties.

After a couple of these calls, I finally had to remind myself, “Rebecca, you’re a grown-ass adult! Why are you scared of this principal? What’s she going to do, call your parents? Threaten to suspend you? YOU ARE NOT HER STUDENT!”

I hung up on this principal once. (Grab popcorn for this one!)

In June, there was a small and lovely outdoor gathering for the graduates and parents. I, of course, bumped into the principal (maybe on purpose, maybe not) so I could jokingly say, “I’m sure you’re going to miss my daughter as a student, but I’m not so sure you’ll miss me as a parent!” 

I really was trying to be funny. She is nice enough — the students seem to like her, and her hair did look really good that day. But let’s just say she found me as hilarious as an un-flushed toilet bowl.

She gave me a weary half-smile, most likely thinking, “You’re 100% correct! I will not miss you at all. You’ve always just made my job harder and more stressful.”

An example of me "getting in trouble” by my daughter’s principal?

A very well-read newsmagazine once asked “prominent” Toronto moms to write one piece of advice for parents whose children were about to enter high school. I happened to be one of these mothers.

The advice I gave was “hire a tutor!” I explained my reasoning and how, education-wise, it was the best money I ever spent (aside from the $35k a year in tuition.)

In fact, my daughter had TWO tutors each week — for two very different reasons.

Nowadays, tutors are beneficial for a host of other reasons, not just because a child is failing or falling behind.

I wrote about the pressure on students nowadays in this article, Do You Want Your Kids To Go to Harvard Or To Be Happy?

I’m also in the process of finding my son a tutor for September, and not for the same reasons I sought one out for my daughter. She needed extra help. And...who cares? All of her friends had tutors throughout their high-school years.

Author Brian Herbert said, "The capacity to learn is a gift; the ability to learn is a skill; the willingness to learn is a choice," which pretty much sums up how my daughter feels about education.

(Don't you wonder how in the world we parents passed high school without Google?)

One of my daughter's tutors was hired to improve her academic performance. Not every single subject came easily to her, like it does for some kids.

Fortunately, she loves learning and has the motivation to get good grades. So, of course, I hired tutors for her, especially since she seemed to appreciate the value of a good education. 

“An investment in knowledge always pays the best interest,” Benjamin Franklin once said. (I know I’m throwing quotes around a lot, but they really paint a picture, you know?)

“Chaos Reigns!“ could be my daughter’s life motto. My daughter is many things — brave, funny, compassionate, independent, personable (she can carry a conversation with anyone, anywhere) — but she is disorganized.

Personally, I don’t view being disorganized as negative. I honestly believe it’s a personality trait. She’s not just brave sometimes — she’s always brave. And she’s not just disorganized sometimes. She’s always disorganized.

I have lived my entire life in a permanent state of disarray. (Wait? Was your baby born organized?) 

I promise, I'm okay! I am successful. I am happy. I don't miss deadlines. I don’t forget birthdays. I am a good mother. I can function! 

“One of the advantages of being disorganized is the joy of discovery.” A.A. Milne once said (there I go again, but how beautiful is that?). And it's so true! Almost every day, I find some gem that I thought I had lost years ago.

So, it’s my belief that my daughter inherited my disorganized trait the same way she inherited my love of learning. No, I don’t think “disorganized” is a trait that needs to be “fixed.” 

That said, I do think being organized is a skill that my daughter could improve upon, the same way any other skill takes effort to nail down — like how one of her tutors helped her understand math concepts. (When I looked at her math notebook, all I saw was, “Amy was driving at 20km an hour. She had 3 bottles of water and gave one to her friend. How would you calculate how much it will cost to re-shingle her roof?”

So, my daughter's second tutor was basically a Google Calendar.

I hired this tutor to help my kid stay organized. With the insane amount of homework and tests she was given, along with her insane amount of extracurricular activities, this tutor would help my daughter prioritize her workload each week; what homework to tackle first and what day she should start studying for tests, while also teaching her small organizational skills to implement when she was feeling overwhelmed.

But my reality is different from yours, so whether my advice was taken or not, I really don’t care. However, her principal did.

I got THE CALL from the school principal. Remember? The one where I hung up on her.

She began telling me she had received “a number of calls” about my article from parents wondering if they should hire tutors for their kids. The principal went on to say the school had various in-house tutors and that she wanted parents to know that, so why hadn’t I mentioned that in MY article?

She insinuated MY advice was detrimental to students, their parents, the school. The f*cking cat scurrying across the street.

Then this principal asked if I could show her what I write moving forward so she could vet it before it’s published, to which I wanted to retort, “Did I miss the memo that you were suddenly MY boss?”

I remained calm as she preached about what she considered my “ill-informed” advice, until I just couldn’t…

I didn't write, "Get your kid a Ritalin prescription, even if they don’t need it, so they can pull all-nighters!”

She insinuated it was MY fault that she now had to deal with “numerous calls from parents” on top of blaming me for the fact that other parents weren’t aware that the school had tutors.

I mean, isn't it part of a principal's job to respond to questions from concerned parents? Isn't it my job as a writer to, um, write?

It was clear she was advocating that I didn’t need to hire private tutors for my own child. It’s Parenting 101 to never advise another parent how to raise their kid. I never suggested how this principal should raise HER kids, so why the fuck was she telling me how to raise mine?

I also reminded her the school has its own public relations department. Isn’t it THEIR job to get the word out about what the school offers?

I usually don’t give free PR advice, but I told her she should get her PR department to mention that damned fact in one of their weekly emails. (I should have invoiced her for my consultation. Not only was I getting scolded, I was paying 35k a year to be scolded.)

(BTW, their school tutors were incredibly helpful to my daughter, but often their hours didn't align with her schedule. Did the school's in-house tutors want to come to my house on evenings and weekends?)

How could I not get riled up! Their whole school vibe is encouraging girls to be strong, confident leaders who have their own opinions, even if they’re not popular ones, and affirming that girls should be taught HOW to think, not WHAT to think. So calling me out, or calling me at all — a confident, female ADULT — for having an opinion, seemed hypocritical AF.

Mostly, I was confused. I had written so many other complimentary things about her school, so why was she so focused on one tiny paragraph? 

So I asked, “Did you read the article?”

“I haven’t had the chance to see it yet,” she said. I. Saw. Red.

After being chastised, like a child, over an article I wrote only to learn she hadn’t even read it before calling to “school” me, I got all Real Housewives of Forest Hill on her.

I’m kidding!

However, I did raise my voice and said, “Are you kidding me? You thought it was a bright idea to scold me, for 40 minutes now, but you didn’t take three fucking minutes to read what I had actually written before calling? Call me AFTER you read the fucking piece!” Then I hit End Call.

This principal knew just as well as I did, because she also told me so in that call (what can I say? “Facts are the enemy of truth!”), that around 80% of the students already had tutors. I have not met one of my daughter’s friends, over 10 years, who hasn’t had a tutor, so my advice was akin to “Don’t breathe underwater!”

Is my daughter more organized now? Um, not really. But the tutor taught her how to “embrace” her disorganization, shifting her mindset to learn how to work with it and not feel so pressured or judged into being hyper-organized, all of which will be helpful to my daughter in university and in life.

I still stand firm by my advice to hire a tutor. Sure, it’s possible my daughter would have gotten into Tufts University without one, but the extra help certainly didn't hurt.

(Meanwhile? This mommy had to google the difference between “principal” versus “principle”!)

I actually think I MAY miss those calls from the principal. Luckily, I still have another kid.

* * *

So while my daughter heads off to study in the States, my son is entering grade four. And frankly, mostly due to the pandemic and virtual learning, I don't think the kid can write. He’s nine! 

He's been at overnight camp for three weeks (he's coming home next week!), and I have yet to receive one letter from him. And I had packed him paper, markers, pencils, and envelopes — addressed and stamped — in his duffle bag. I didn't expect a thesis, but a one-liner like, "I like it here" would have been nice.

Candidly, I was/am seriously worried. I'm being realistic. I mean, the kid grew up typing on his iPad. I don't remember seeing him, ever, with a pencil in hand during any of his virtually learning sessions, now that I think about it.

So, I know the dude can text, and I know he can read. But I'm actually not sure he can write! 

Was that why I wasn't getting any letters from him? It really was a possibility. (Until I finally called the camp, who got my kid on the phone, who told me he “lost” all of the envelopes but was too shy to say anything.)

Naturally, we’re all worried to see how our kids "measure up'' to their classmates once they go back to an actual classroom in a few weeks. Because some — make that many — parents hired tutors throughout the entire pandemic while others, like me, only made my kid “attend" morning classes. 

Which is why first, I’m getting a tutor in for a consult (and yes, an “average” learning level is just fine!), and then we’ll go from there. Unlike my motivated daughter, who loves to learn, my son is innately smart and hates school.

His favourite class is “recess," and yet he can calculate tip in his head quicker than I can. Might as well just hand him the bill.

So, I’ll be hiring a tutor not only to help with homework and study habits — something he unquestionably missed an entire year off — but to show him that learning can be fun.

Many tutors can improve attitudes towards learning and school, and my son needs an adjustment in mindset, that's for sure, so going to school will be less tortuous for him. And, frankly, for me! 

I’ve failed miserably trying to get my son excited about school. 

If you’re as worried as I am about how your kid is measuring up, you’ll definitely want to enter this week’s re:book’s treat here!

Until next time, flip your hair and flip the page! (And remember, “You can never be overdressed or overeducated.”)

xoxo Rebecca