Hope This Helps
Sarah Hogle
Dear Mr. Gladwin,
Hello! This is Kaylee Jamison’s mom. I was wondering if it would be okay if Kaylee retakes the test from last Friday?
She wasn’t feeling well, so she wasn’t at the top of her game.
But she definitely knows the material better than that and would like another chance!
She thinks you won’t allow a retake for some reason, but I wanted to go ahead and ask anyway because Ms. Levitt and Mr. Ortiz have allowed retakes in the past with no problem. Thanks in advance!
Audrey Thorn
Dear Mrs. Thorn,
Indeed, Kaylee is correct! I do not allow test retakes unless a student missed school on the day of the test. I agree that Kaylee knows the material better than her grade reflects; she seemed tired on Friday morning, and I heard her telling her friends that she went to a concert on Thursday night.
A good night’s sleep is extremely important for students!
There will be another test this Friday to cover chapters four through seven, so hopefully Kaylee won’t be attending any concerts beforehand.
Best regards,
Joel Gladwin
Dear Mr. Gladwin,
My sincerest apologies about Kaylee’s tiredness!
Trust me when I say that going to concerts on a weeknight is NOT common in our household, lol.
We had tickets to see Sabrina Carpenter, which were expensive and hard to get.
I’m sorry that Kaylee was tired on Friday, but I can assure you that the once-in-a-lifetime memories were worth it!
I actually have another question. This one is about Kaylee’s research paper that was handed back yesterday.
I’ll admit I’m scratching my head a bit here because the paper’s very well written, I think, and I don’t understand why she got an F?
She is doing her best in your class but is still averaging an F somehow, which puts her in danger of not being able to attend the Snowfall Dance. She’ll be devastated if she misses it.
Miss Audrey Thorn
Dear Miss Audrey Thorn,
I appreciate your advocacy for your child.
I assure you that I do not wish for any of my students to fail, and have given them every opportunity to succeed.
The rubric sent home with Kaylee for the research paper three weeks ago explained my expectations and how the points were divided.
Kaylee only used one source in her works cited page.
She was supposed to use seven. The source she used was Wikipedia, which I do not consider to be a credible source.
It takes effort on the parts of both the teacher and the parents to provide a nourishing education.
I can only assure you that I am doing my part.
Best regards,
Joel Gladwin
Mr. Gladwin,
I am doing my part as well. One of the questions on the worksheet you sent home today is factually inaccurate: You stated that F. Scott Fitzgerald was born in 1869, but he was born in 1896. I hope this helps.
PS: I did some research, and according to Common Sense Media, The Great Gatsby is recommended for readers fourteen-plus due to mature themes.
Another source, The Center for Learning, says that The Great Gatsby should be read by students in grades eleven and twelve.
Don’t you think this book is a little too mature for thirteen-year-olds?
Miss Thorn
Dear Miss Audrey Thorn,
Thank you for your concern, which helps me a great deal. One can only wonder how much time was spent Googling the questions from my assignments in efforts to find an error. You are the savior of public education, Miss Audrey Thorn.
PS: Isn’t Sabrina Carpenter’s music a little too mature for a thirteen-year-old?
Best regards,
Joel Gladwin
“You horse’s ass,” I mutter.
Kaylee flounces into the living room, dropping her backpack in the middle of the floor.
Her long curls are in a French braid now, which means her friend Emma did her hair at school.
I take a moment to grieve the lovely long spirals I had when I was her age, as well, and which I flat-ironed to death for some unholy reason.
My hair is still the same honey brown as Kaylee’s, but these days it demands a ton of products to curl properly and won’t grow past my shoulders.
“What about a horse?” she asks.
I minimize my email before she can snoop. “Nothing. Your backpack doesn’t go there.”
She kicks it under the Christmas tree, which responds by shedding tufts of fake snow. I loathe that tree. It looks gorgeous, but if you so much as breathe while you walk past it, the flocking goes everywhere.
“Thank you so much, dear.”
Kaylee laughs and puts her backpack in the closet, then inspects the living room for any new baubles I might have added while she was at school.
I have perhaps gone a tiny bit overboard with the holiday decorating, trying to make Kaylee’s world as magical as I possibly can.
I’m talking string lights on big red bows on garland on red-and-green table runners.
I’m talking a battalion of snow globes, a legion of reindeer figurines, a city of Christmas village buildings.
We live in a small two-bedroom Craftsman, and our living room is barely big enough to accommodate a sofa and an armchair, but that has not stopped me from shopping as if I need to furnish the entire North Pole.
From where I sit, I can count eleven different wall hangings bearing messages like FA LA LA LA LA, MERRY you’re the child. Do not worry about me.”
“Mom.” She holds my face between her hands and stares me dead in the eyes. Whereas both of her parents have brown eyes, she inherited her vivid green from my mother. “Will you please chill out?”
“Sorry. Yes.” You are not chill enough! Get a grip on yourself before you damage her for life with your un-chill-ness!
I don’t remember being this neurotic pre-divorce.
Now that I’m living the single mom life, I find myself sliding every decision I make under a magnifying glass.
My ex once made the suggestion that he was the “fun parent” and I was “just the mom,” which sent me into an insecurity tailspin.
Just the mom. What does that even mean??
“How was school?” I ask.
“Ugh. I left my phone in math and couldn’t find it, and I was kinda freaking out. But then I went back later and got it. We’re gonna start volleyball next week in PE. Yay!”
“Yay!” I clap enthusiastically.
Kaylee grabs the TV remote and jumps onto the couch. She can never simply sit down. She must launch herself from as far away as possible. “Okay, I’m gonna text Dad and tell him to come get me.”
“Okey dokey.” Then a realization hits me. “You studied for your test tomorrow, right?”
Kaylee squints. “What test?”
“In English.”
“Oh, right. I’ll take my book with me.”
“Good idea.” I want to tack on a few items: Are you eating okay at your dad’s house? Has he bought you a bed of your own yet or are you still crashing on the couch? Do they still talk badly about me in front of you? But I do not, because I am Being Chill.