For the love of parents

Today a parent came in to chat with me after school...

mind you- I've had both great (we love you!) and hideous (it's your fault he's getting an F!) experiences with this so I was a little nervous.

She was a parent I'd never met before and turns out I have two of her kids, one in 7th and one in 9th.

The 7th grader is a pretty normal boy, just chill and a great student but I've never had trouble with him.

The 9th grade girl is a different story. She's your classic, closet creator.

The kind that shows her personality to no one but her journal,
has very few if any friends at school
and rarely, if ever, speaks.

She is absolutely vibrant on paper, beautiful, poignant thoughts and an attitude! She has very specific opinions and will not be swayed by classmates. But she also won't talk to them about it either-she just is the way she is. She LOVES the Twilight series, and is an avid reader as far as I could tell.

Her mother comes in, we talk about the boy, then she says "but really I want to talk about *girl*"

She procedes to tell me how much of a difference I've made in her daughter's life. That I've fueled her (very recent) budding love of reading. I've encouraged her in her writing and built her confidence. And that she loves me as a teacher, and my class is one of the only reasons she likes to come to school.

Teary eyed and sniffling, she said that I had made a difference.

{after a week of parents questioning my book choices, finalizing term grades, screaming/anxious kids ready for spring break, whiny teachers,  and a myriad of sundry issues, I realized this,}

It's all worth it. Every five weeks of torture is worth 5 minutes of a parent telling you that you are loved by their kid.

Maybe I do love this job after all.