Are you sure?

A bad day

It was the end of the school day, you were slumped over your work desk, head face down over papers you had long 'graded'. The sheer thought of trying to pick your head up off your desk felt out of your reach.

You rang your mother in the middle of the work day, pleading with her to grab the car seats from your car, to pick the girls up from daycare.

Having to stay after the school day to discuss one of your students behavioral tendencies especially when it came to other children and participating with their school work.
It was nothing major you felt, the occasional putting hands on other kids and flat out refusing to work. Thinking it would go smoothly you were sadly mistaken.

It did not.

You had found the reason early in their yelling of why the student was having a difficult time, their parents often did the homework for them, you had no problems with them helping, you encouraged it even but, it's important that they learned for themselves.

Each parent took turns, yelling red in the face at you, someone could tell you steam was seeping from their ears and you'd believe it.
Rants of - Who were you to tell them how to parent, what kind of teacher were you, did you get your degree in a dumpster?
Ten minutes in you began to zone out, to tired and worn to give them your full attention.
The mother stormed out, leaving your mouth agap while the father stared you down, beads of sweat pooling at his receding hairline. The mother shortly returned to the PTC with the principal.

You felt like you were under a broken spotlight, the parents continued their bickering.
You needed to help their child MORE, maybe let her have extra free time, how dare you tell them that the help they gave their child was a bit unorthodox, a lot less helpful than you'd like to mention.

The principal was a MAJOR kiss ass, not once taking your side. He was insuring that all the parents demands would all happen and that you would personally also set up a IEP set to their standards, you had absolutely no room to talk.

Attempting to speak up, you tried to share you're thoughts on how you could possibly make lessons a bit more enjoyable.
No one would let you speak. Your ears had a small ring to them as the meeting went on, nodding your head absentmindedly until he parents were pleased.

In your few years of teaching, you've never felt so... humiliated, disrespected? You don't know how you felt.

Tears started to weld up in your eyes.

"Why do I feel so STUPID I shouldn't be crying" you sobbed wiping the tears off your cheeks.

This was the first time this has happened wishing to yourself to be the last. Eyes glanced over to the clock on the wall, it was well past five.

Your mom had called at least three times, left one voice mail and texted at seven times asking if you're okay, that she'd be taking the girls for the night so you could relax but, she expects to know what is wrong and for this not to happen again. You grimaced heavily, A hard ball of guilt swelling in your throat.

Letting out a breath you returned a phone call to your mother who almost immediately answered.

"What's going on (Y/FML/N)" you could see the look your mother was giving you in your head. The way her brows furrowed, hair falling out of place, her mouth a thin line while her tone was not angry just, intense.

"I don't mind taking the girls—at all. This was short sighted for me and- you weren't answering" she was worried.

You grunted, "yeah I know ma- I'm ... sorry" you slumped in your chair at your desk, "the conference went all kinds of wrong I've never felt so- bad in my profession" you squeaked out.