As a high school teacher, I use this tactic all the time. I have to, or I would be overwhelmed by the many requests from parents that seem perfectly reasonable from their perspective but which become mathematically impossible in the aggregate.
“I think each teacher should check my son’s agenda every day and sign off on whether they did their classwork and whether they have homework.”
“Of course. Not a problem. As long as he brings it to me at the end of every class period filled out and ready for my signature, this should not be an issue.”
Three days later—often less—the practice discontinues with no word from anyone.
Another example, by email: “I would like to meet with you this week about my daughter’s grade.”
I deliberately wait between 4 and 24 hours. And then:
“Of course. I’m available every day after school until...”
9 times out of 10 I’ll never hear from the parent again. Ever. It’s easy to rattle off an email to a teacher when you’re mad at your kid, and it’s easy to let a teacher make an appointment for you, but the trivial inconvenience of deciding on and committing to your own appointment time, combined with the cool-off period I created before responding, almost always leaves the ball dead in their court. And I think they feel too silly about it all afterwards to even talk to me again.
Oh well. Guess it wasn’t that important to you.
Yeah, this is a dark art. Selective application is key. I really am there to help. But I use judicious social engineering to filter many of the demands I could end up committed to. Hopefully, I’m letting the ones through where I can actually do some good.
As a high school teacher, I use this tactic all the time. I have to, or I would be overwhelmed by the many requests from parents that seem perfectly reasonable from their perspective but which become mathematically impossible in the aggregate.
“I think each teacher should check my son’s agenda every day and sign off on whether they did their classwork and whether they have homework.”
“Of course. Not a problem. As long as he brings it to me at the end of every class period filled out and ready for my signature, this should not be an issue.”
Three days later—often less—the practice discontinues with no word from anyone.
Another example, by email: “I would like to meet with you this week about my daughter’s grade.”
I deliberately wait between 4 and 24 hours. And then:
“Of course. I’m available every day after school until...”
9 times out of 10 I’ll never hear from the parent again. Ever. It’s easy to rattle off an email to a teacher when you’re mad at your kid, and it’s easy to let a teacher make an appointment for you, but the trivial inconvenience of deciding on and committing to your own appointment time, combined with the cool-off period I created before responding, almost always leaves the ball dead in their court. And I think they feel too silly about it all afterwards to even talk to me again.
Oh well. Guess it wasn’t that important to you.
Yeah, this is a dark art. Selective application is key. I really am there to help. But I use judicious social engineering to filter many of the demands I could end up committed to. Hopefully, I’m letting the ones through where I can actually do some good.