Dear Butterscotch,
I would like to make sure that my hypersensitive daughter isn’t in Mrs. Ratched’s kindergarten class next year. How should I approach the school?
Signed,
Babe In the Woods
Dear Babe in the Woods,
The standard vacuum-packed advice is that you send a polite teacher request letter far in advance and be aware of the many complex issues that go into class assignments.
You will see these well-intentioned suggestions in parents’ magazines and blogs dating back forever.
It is BS.
At every school, there is a secret system where parents pull privilege to get the best class assignments for their little prince, princess or princen. Yes, that is the gender-neutral word for royalty, and I love it.
Looooong before school even starts, insider parents have already locked in the best spots for their children.
In schools that are heavily racially divided (and that is most schools in the US), white parents have a hold on the inner workings of class assignments. There is often an under-the-table agreement that “tracks” all the white kids together, regardless of ability. That white track is then given the preferred teachers. No need for these parents to write a note far in advance, they have already locked in the top teachers in their private segregation scheme. This happens at the school level, the district level and the state level. It happens at the level of structural resources as well: better school buildings, pools, playing fields, etc. Good luck finding a paper trail on this insider trading, it is all done behind closed doors.
In schools heavily divided by money (and that is many schools in the US), rich parents have first dibs on the best teachers and class assignments. It is not a secret who the hated teachers are. No one wants their child in Mrs. Ratched’s class. If you have the millions of dollars you need to donate to Richard E Rich Academy to serve on the Board of Trustees, you have bought your princen a seat in Mr. Wonderful’s class.
In very small towns, it can get very personal. Where little rural schools have survived, they are often controlled by a tiny group of families who have ruled the school for generations. It might be a bit more complicated than just the richest parents having the most power, and there may be zero visible diversity at play. Instead, there are dynasties and feuds and a whole lot of backstories. Often First Families work at the school and rule the institution from within. In a small school, everyone knows your name and your drunken cousin’s name and your deadbeat dad’s name and remembers how you flubbed the penalty shot in 1988. Dibs on teachers are doled out based on an internal power structure.
Asking for the best teacher is sort of like asking if you can afford a yacht. If you have to ask, you aren’t going to get it. By some random luck, you might have your child placed in the desired class. But only fools are tricked into sending in a request at the end of the summer and hoping it will come out OK. If you want to win at this, know it is a long game.
I consider myself a princen among cats and I would suggest using some wicked wiles to get your way. How about inventing an allergy for your child to Mrs. Ratched’s gardenia perfume? Or could your child have an asthmatic reaction to Mrs. Ratched’s 1970’s carpet? Is that spider plant in the corner a trigger for your child’s hives? If you can make yourself very unpopular with admin they might be motivated to get rid of you and your child. How about pointing out that your little princen can’t breathe because of the unremediated asbestos in the wall of Mrs. Ratched’s classroom? Do you have a copy of Mrs. Ratched’s outdated certification papers? Or her redacted DUI? Maybe mention to Mrs. Ratched herself that your child has a projectile vomiting disorder and see how fast Mrs. R moves her to another class.
But do pause to consider that sometimes the teacher the parents hate is not actually a bad teacher. Parents are often prejudiced against BIPOC teachers, LGBTQ teachers, city slickers, country bumpkins or anyone from outside their community.
Maybe give that unpopular teacher a chance. Sometimes the cult teacher everyone loves is really just a dangerous narcissist. In that case, I suggest the strategic deployment of hairballs on his desk.
Meow,
Butterscotch
Also Read: Dear Butterscotch: Is the Math Teacher Abusing His Dog?