I was discussing with this young lady, again over her so-called problematic child. Her colleague would always suggests jokingly that I adopt the child to prevent using the cane as I am known to be against this manner of upbringing. I am certain the problem lies with the mother rather than child!
She is known to be soft and harsh in her ways. On the one hand, taking a keen interest (when she has the time) keeping check on 'position in class' as a 'be all and end all' measure of performance, and on the other hand would rely on others (teachers and tuition teachers) to perform (as in her girl's school performance).
When reminded that she is shifting her responsibility to others, she remarked that it is because she is not good enough to do so herself. But she would not hesitate to complain to the headmaster about certain teachers not giving enough homework!
'If you are not good enough, how would you know the teachers are not doing it right?' I questioned.
Her main worry seems to be 'cannot slack, otherwise, cannot catch up later on'. I told her there were many cases of students doing very well during primary or even secondary years but the rote-learning was found wanting later in tertiary education which requires critical thinking. And the child in question is only in Primary One! Yet, her insecurities over this would be the constant sighs of obvious despair!
Now, the story which started the above story:
A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to 'Dad.'
With the worst premonition he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.
Dear Dad:
It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you.
I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice.
But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it' s not only the passion...Dad, she's pregnant.
Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children.
Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone. We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy.
In the meantime we will pray that science finds a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it.
Don't worry Dad. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.
Love, Your Son John
PS. Dad, none of the above is true.. I'm over at Tommy's house.
I just wanted to remind you there are worse things in life than the Report Card in my desk drawer.
I love you.
Call me when it's safe to come home.
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