The Teachers Aren’t Here.
Applying to a private school is like shining an enormous spotlight on the problems with public school.
it is summer, and I don’t expect much from public school staff. But I need two completed teacher recommendation forms, and a transcript mailed to the private school. So I took all of the appropriate paperwork to the school and asked around to see what I could do.
The sole staff person on front office duty is a friendly, hardworking woman who gets paid nowhere near enough to do all she does. I realized this while I was talking to her, but it didn’t make her answers any easier to swallow.
“I need two teacher recommendations,” I said. “But since it’s summer, I have a list of ten teachers we might try to contact.”
“The teachers aren’t here,” she said. “It’s summer.”
“I know,” I said, “but I was hoping you could still contact them and see if there’s anything they could do. It should only take a minute to fill out the form.”
“Well, we can’t do that,” she said. “They are all on vacation. I guess you could email them.”
“Don’t you think they would respond more quickly if the email came from the school?” I asked.
“Oh no,” she said, as if the school has no influence whatsoever on the teachers. She fingered the neon green papers in my hand. “And I don’t know how you would get them these forms,” she added. “I guess you could come back in the third week of August.”
“But that’s too late for the application,” I said, whining a bit.
“Sorry,” she said, shrugging and smiling at me.
“Right,” I said, giving up. “So I will email the teachers and hope someone responds, and then I will try to figure out how to get these forms to them.”
“Okay,” she said, clearly pleased that I understood her utter helplessness.
“I also need a transcript mailed to the school,” I said.
“Oh,” she said, sighing. “That will cost $3.”
“Okay,” I said.
“And you will have to have that done through the counseling office.”
I went into the counseling office.
In the counseling office, I found another tremendously underpaid hardworking staff member, with the neatest, most organized desk I’d ever seen. She smiled at me as I explained my plight.
“It won’t go out until next week,” she said, disappointed in herself that she couldn’t do it more quickly. (More quickly, by the way, would have been mailing it within an hour of my request.)
This woman obviously had more power and ability to help than the other one. I gave her $3 for the transcript and said, as an afterthought, “And I just have to find two teachers in the middle of the summer who will answer emails.”
She looked at my list of teachers. “Oh, she lives in the neighborhood,” she said. “I could call her today. And he is easy to reach. Do you want me to get these to the teachers for you?”
I almost fell over with gratitude.
“That would be awesome,” I told her, giving her the forms and my contact information while thanking her profusely.
Then I headed out, thanking God and the great staffer for their hard work on our behalf, and went home to fill out Dylan’s application.