Page 32 of Worth the Fall
“We can’t always choose who our kids are going to be around. And there are bad and good influences at every turn.”
“But teachers are in a power position. Kids trust them innately because of the role they play in their life. They think whatever the teacher says is right.”
I’d never really thought about other people having Clarabel’s trust just because of who they were. I hadn’t dealt with it before now.
“I agree with that. Children believe that teachers know what they’re talking about. And they follow their rules and guidelines for good behavior.”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “Exactly! That’s exactly it. And normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with that, but who’s to say that their idea of what constitutes good behavior is the same as mine?”
My dad threw his head back and blew out a long breath. “Everyone will have different opinions and ideas about what that means. Think about it this way.” He paused. “Good behavior at school might be different than good behavior at home. Or good behavior in the workplace. That’s a part of life, son. We act certain ways depending on where we are. It’s okay that her classroom has rules she needs to follow. Unless those rules are hurting her. Are they hurting her?”
“I don’t know. She made a comment that Clara was too strong-minded for her own good. That somehow being strong-willed would be a problem for her when she got older. That pissed me off.”
“That pisses me off too. Your mom would have torn her a new one,” he said with a grin, and I softened instantly, just thinking about her.
“She would have, huh?”
“Your mom loved nothing more than protecting you boys.”
“I miss her,” I said, and my dad sucked in a quick breath.
“You and me both, son. Not a day goes by,” he said, and I blew out a breath to stop myself from losing it right here in his office.
“So, what if this teacher says those kinds of things to Clarabel? What if she tries to make her feel bad about who she is? I don’t know what to do.” I ran my fingers through my jet-black hair and pulled at the strands.
“I know you came to me for an answer, but I’m not sure there’s a clear one here. Being a parent is hard. We try to do the right thing, but half the time, we have no idea what the hell that even is. All we can do is our best. But trust me, you’re going to get it wrong sometimes. And that’s okay. No parent is perfect a hundred percent of the time.”
He was right. I had come to him hoping he’d tell me exactly what to do, and then I’d do it, and all would be right in the world.
“Except Mom. She always got it right, didn’t she?”
He laughed. “Your mother was stubborn as a damn mule. You couldn’t tell her anything if she didn’t want to hear it. And no one could tell her anything negative about her boys. Did she always get it right? Hell no. But she’d never show it.”
That made me smile. I’d always remembered my mom as a caring and strong woman, but I never knew if my perception had been somehow jaded over time. Or at least rearranged into something I wanted it to be, regardless of whether or not it was the truth.
“Thomas, I won’t downplay the fact that teachers are influential in kids’ lives, but their home is even more so. Kids might love and trust their teachers, but they love and trust their parents more. Whatever happens in that classroom is one thing. But what happens at home trumps it all.”
Damn.That was just what I’d needed to hear. I’d continue to make sure Clara knew what was important and what mattered. I was the bigger influence in her life; I had just needed that reminder.
“Thanks, Dad. That was actually really helpful,” I said, feeling much better than when I’d first walked in.
“Good. Now, go get my grandgirl and tell her I love her. Remind her that she’s smart and honest and too good for anyone in this world.”
I smiled as I pushed the chair back and stood up. “I will. See you tomorrow.”
“Thomas,” he said, and I stopped, moving to look at him.
“Yeah?”
“Love you, son. You’re a good one.”
“Thanks. Love you too,” I said, still smiling as I raced for my car to get home to the only girl who mattered.