Zoom parent conference day - I loved it.

I'm well practiced at performing for the open-house parent showcase, and at parent-teacher conferences.  By the time these roll around in mid-October, my students have usually adapted to approaching problems that aren't pure recall, they've begun to recognize that physics class is, comparatively, a fun part of their day; and they've communicated this positive energy to their parents.  My conferences are usually relaxed and not-hostile.  

Yet, I do not like meeting with one set of parents after the other.  I feel like I'm performing, all day, even in between conferences.  What do I say to the family that has arrived 20 minutes early and is staring daggers at me while I wait for the (late-arriving) family on my schedule?  Has my tie come out of place, has my hair mussed, in the five hours since we started?  I hope not, I'll be judged.  Oh, gawd, the one student out of fifty whose parents are huffy is waiting outside and talking to two other sets of parents, probably spreading poison.  I really need to let the dogs out and to make another cup of coffee, but the 15-minute break isn't enough for all that, especially when half of break is taken up with the couple who arrived late for their meeting and wouldn't leave until they had their full allotment of time.

In-person parents' weekend reminds me a bit of high school homecoming.  People are dressed so carefully, performatively playing a role rather than being their authentic selves.  When junior Tricia gives a big hug to returning alumnus Scotty, is it really cause "it's so good to see you, I miss you so much?"  Or is she saying that to get in the sack with Scotty's brother?  And Scotty's return compliment about Tricia's dress - he knows darned well that she paid $250 for what looks like aluminum foil wrapped around a cylinder.  (Right?)  It's all a game teenagers play, an agreed-upon reality that no one is willing to bust - everyone is using the same tone of voice they use to compliment Aunt Gloria's green bean casserole.  "Oh, I'm so glad that Mr. Jacobs is Will's physics teacher," they say loudly to each other.  I suppose that might be true, just as there might be someone in the universe who likes green bean casserole or Tricia's godawful dress.

Online parent conference day was, um, entirely unlike that.  Phew.

Of course we did conferences online out of necessity, not desire.  Due to restrictions on campus visitors, most parents had dropped their kid off at our boarding school on August 31, and wouldn't see their kid again until November 18.  That's hard for parents.  Especially for parents of 14 year olds who have never been away from home for so long.  As much as parents' weekend irritates me, I know how important it is to the parents, to our school's overall culture.  I fix my best customer service smile and have empathy for the parents who are making a significant sacrifice to give their sons [we're a boys school] an amazing four year educational experience in a caring community.

This year, online parents' weekend held a different dynamic.  

It seems like such a small thing, but it felt important: I was free to take my laptop anywhere for these conferences.  The fact that I wasn't tethered to my office, that the next group of parents sat in a *virtual* waiting room, meant that I felt more relaxed all day.  In fact, I had far fewer and shorter breaks than in a regular parents' weekend.  (This is in large part because parents could schedule conferences without traveling to campus - so even families from airplane distance away showed up.)  But even a 15 minute break allowed me to get a snack, use the bathroom, take care of dogs, even change my location.

Everyone was on time; everyone was respectful of the fact that the next parent was waiting, and so ended the conference promptly.  Because they couldn't see whether or not someone was actually waiting, they assumed someone was.  And parents who scheduled each of their kid's six teachers back-to-back didn't have to walk from one building to the next, taking their own unscheduled breaks, sniping at each other for turning the wrong direction and losing five precious minutes with a teacher.  They just sat in their living room and clicked on one link after the other.  

The conference content was far more positive, too.  The parents didn't see each other all over campus; they didn't have any opportunities for the performative "well, I definitely need to talk to Mr. Lipshutz, because Will says he lost credit on his homework even though the answer was right."  Rather, the parents were so happy for any lifeline into their son's world, a world that suddenly didn't include parents at all.  I always refuse to discuss grades at parent conferences.  For once, my refusal didn't meet with pursed lips; in fact, few parents even tried to mention grades.  They heard me start telling stories about their child.  They noticed that I noticed little things about his personality, about his character.  They felt better knowing that I noticed.  They suddenly forgot about, didn't care about, whether Will had an A- or a B+.  Here was someone who could give them insight to their son's life far from home.  The parents were... grateful.

As am I.  Somehow I doubt that zoom parent conferences will become the norm, but nevertheless (like for zoom faculty meetings) I truly hope so.  My classes themselves require in-person team building over the course of many months.  Online classes were as thin gruel to the real thing, the difference between Beyonce live in concert vs. a 12 year old Beyonce impersonator recorded acapella on a Fischer-Price My First Cassette Deck.  But the talking-about-classes that goes on in a parent conference or faculty meeting?  That's better on zoom.  I've felt so much more positive about the parents and my colleagues this year.