At my daughter’s school, we recently had the first round of parent-teacher conferences for the school year. My husband and I sat there listening to her third grade teacher praise what a sweet girl she is, how she is so happy to have her in her class, and we all joked about how different her personality is from her older brother whom she had in class a few years ago. We listened intently about how she is excelling in math (no surprise) but could use a little work on her phonics (okay, easy, we can definitely work on that at home).
The teacher then pulled out a stack of three papers. The first was a list of questions that our daughter had filled out about how she felt her school year was going so far. The second was a drawing that she did about the first couple of months of school, and the third was a letter to us about anything she wanted to write about. The teacher's face became concerned, and I adjust myself in my chair in anxious anticipation. I know that look. I don't like that look.
The list asked questions such as:
1. “What is your favorite thing about school this year?” She had replied “math.”
2. “What is your least favorite thing about this school this year?” She had written “I don’t have any friends. It makes me feel sad at school.”
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