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Not waving but drowning.

I write in the book every day. "I'm sorry that you write and you are always asking how your daughter is and I don't respond." I am listening to the words, nodding because this is how the transaction is supposed to go.

"Your daughter."
"Your daughter ran around the classroom."
"Your daughter did not want to do her work."
"Your daughter started taking down the display I had on my board."
"Your daughter ran from me, around the room."
"Your daughter climbed up onto the table and hit another child in the face."
"It was an accident, and she apologized, and she felt bad, but she hit her."
"I know she doesn't understand Spanish, but she needs to respect me."

I nod, and listen as she continues to tell me how my child has failed, again, today. That's my job today, as the cars of other parents waiting for their children in the pick up line wait behind me. As my children wait somewhere behin…

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