More conversations during an office hour
All your fault
“You know it's going to be your fault if our son loses his chance at an athletic scholarship!”
“Listen, sir. I can't talk to you about your son's academic record. He's an adult and there are privacy rules we have to respect.”
“That's bogus crap! We're his parents. Boy! Tell your teacher to talk to us! Tell him to talk to your mom and me!”
“Uh, prof, it's okay for you to talk to my parents.”
“You don't have to waive your privacy rights, you know.”
“No, it's okay. I want to. Talk to my mom and dad. Please talk to them.”
“You heard that, right? Now talk to us!”
“Okay. Since your son has given his consent, I will tell you that he is unlikely to pass the class.”
“So what you are going to do about it?”
“I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's not my job to do anything about it. It's your son's job to do the work necessary to pass the class. Unfortunately, the final is next week and he needs something like a perfect score to earn a passing grade. I don't see that happening.”
“But you're the teacher! If you would just teach him what he needs to know for the final exam he can graduate and transfer to a real college—a college with an athletic scholarship waiting for him.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, teaching your son what he needs to know is exactly what I've been trying to do all semester, but it's hard to do when he's not there.”
“Dammit! He's an athlete! He has to practice! He's busy! It's your job to make sure he passes!”
“Did you tell your parents you had to miss your math class to practice with your teammates? Is that what you said?”
“Uh. Yeah. Something like that.”
“Have you and your parents talked to your coach yet?”
“No. Not yet.”
“So your coach hasn't had a chance to tell them about athletic counseling and scheduling?”
“Why the hell does that matter? So what if he hasn't taken us to see his coach yet? It's your class that's causing all the trouble. You are the guy who needs to fix it!”
“Sorry, but we're done here. Take your boy to see his coach. The coach can tell you that every student athlete is assigned a sports counselor who makes sure he or she gets enrolled in classes that don't conflict with practice hours and game times. It'll be a very educational conversation for you.”
Restraining disorder
“Ahem.... Excuse me.”
“Yes? Oh. Hello. What are you doing here?”
“Yeah, sorry. I need a signature.”
“Excuse me for bringing this up, but you're not supposed to be here.”
“Yeah, sorry. I know. But I need the signature of my last math teacher on this form so that I can be a tutor.”
“Okay, I see. But I don't think that's a good enough excuse for ignoring the dean's order not to communicate with me in any way.”
“But this is a special case.”
“That's what you said the last time and the dean of students suspended you for violating the order.”
“Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Sorry. I'll just go away.”
“Is that the tutoring form in your hand?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Give it here. I'll sign this so you can be a math tutor in the student assistance center, but you can't come back again. I'll have to report this to the dean of students, you know.”
“Sorry. Really sorry. But the form says to get the signature of my most recent math teacher. I was just following instructions.”
“Yes, I know. But I think the dean's ban on any communication at all take precedence. If anything like this comes up in the future—and I mean anything—go to the department chair or the math dean instead. Anything I can do, they can do. Okay?”
“Okay. Sorry.”
“You can stop apologizing now. But stop coming back. The dean of students won't listen to any excuses. Here's your tutoring form.”
“Thank you. I'll go now.”
“Yes, that would be best.”
