I encounter a lot of privileged parents in my job. They come in all shapes and sizes. My school sits on a line. On one side of that line is one of the nicest neighborhoods in Asheville, and on the other side is the opposite. My kids are split right down the middle, but it tends me mean one things, parents demand a lot. All the time.
Parents consistently come into program questioning things. Why am I doing it this way, why are the kids late, why do I not answer the phone after the first ring? The things people get mad about sometimes astonishes me.
It's gotten a lot as I've gotten farther into my job, but it still happens. And I am still surprised with the eagerness with which parents call my superiors.
Today, a parent called the business office complaining that I wasn't answering the phone (she had been calling the wrong number). She had concerns and wanted to speak with someone. Once the call was returned she just wanted to let someone know her kids were going to be in program tomorrow.
The point of all of this is not to complain, it is to say that being in my position is humbling. I am never going to do everything right, and there is always going to be someone to show up and tell me that. But at the very least I can live my life in a way that puts the needs of others into my line of sight.
Every time a parent is mad at me I try to remember that they are trying to do the best they can for their child. And it may not even come out of a place a privilege, it may be guilt for leaving their child, worry about things at home, or some other reason that I have no idea.
The way we react to those around us speaks volumes about our character. While I don't face the homeless that often, I am regularly faced with anger, indignation, and a myriad of other emotions that try my patience. And through it all I would like to think that I am becoming kinder, and maybe more understanding.
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