The goal of holding a parent-teacher conference is to ensure that all parties involved in a student’s education are on the same page. However, these meetings can occasionally result in awkward situations that leave teachers speechless. Teachers cannot always provide the best care for their students in the eyes of parents which can sometimes create a world of problems for teachers who are only trying to do their job. Here, educators recount the most humiliating experiences they’ve had while meeting with parents.
All stories have been edited for clarity.
Brother’s Keeper
“I had a student who was a fifteen-year-old boy. He was frequently absent. His average in my class during the first quarter was about an F-, and that was only because I nagged him to complete a couple of the easier assignments. My initial efforts to contact his parents were unsuccessful.
I suspected he was depressed and I made several attempts to engage him in conversation. I was determined to find out what was really going on with him.
One day he told me he’d be absent the following week because he and his family would be attending his brother’s memorial service. His brother, he explained, was a soldier who had been killed in Afghanistan a year ago. I was stunned and felt awful for him.
Of course, I thought, this explains everything!
Months passed with no change in his behavior or grade point average. At my request, the guidance counselor scheduled the conference. All of his teachers, the guidance counselor, his father, and the student himself were in attendance.
I knew that I had to acknowledge the death of his sibling and waited for the appropriate moment to do so.
‘Mr. Smith, I know it’s been hard for Johnny to adjust to ninth grade, and I’m sure the death of his brother has only made it more difficult. I’m so sorry.’
Mr. Smith tilted his head, squinted, and revealed the disturbing truth.
‘Death of WHAT brother? Nobody died. His brother is in the army and doing just fine.’
‘Oh. OH. Well…good, I guess,’ I was flabbergasted.
No one in the room seemed as shocked as I felt. As I began to wonder whether any effort would be made to determine why this young man would invent such a story or to treat the underlying malaise that would account for a lie of this magnitude, the subject was dropped and the meeting continued and ended as most of them usually do.”
Expect The Unexpected
“One day I was in a parent-teacher-student conference to discuss the poor academic performance and behavior of a girl in my class.
The parents, school counselor, student, and I were sitting in the counselor’s office discussing what was happening with the girl and what we could do as a team to help her improve.
During the meeting, the girl sat quietly, head down, not answering questions or participating on any level in the discussion. This went on for about fifteen minutes.
At one point, she started to shake uncontrollably. It was a bit off-putting, but I was not terribly concerned as I had seen a plethora of ‘odd’ and distracting behaviors from students many times before.
What happened next, however, made me wish I had been more alert.
Out of nowhere, the girl jumped up out of her seat, screaming at the top of her lungs, jumped up on the chair, and began flailing her arms around and “frothing” at the mouth.
I was shocked. The tiny, thirteen-year-old girl had just turned into a crazed creature, howling and screeching. This was something I had never seen before, and I was certainly not prepared for it!
It took all four of us about ten minutes to calm her down, and eventually, we were successful. That said, the meeting was cut to an abrupt end.
Other than the outburst, the thing I remember best from that day was the defeated look in her parent’s eyes as the incident unfolded, and they left to take their daughter home. There was no doubt in my mind they were terrified of their own daughter.”
Pucker-up
“The most awkward was the one where I accidentally kissed a parent.
There was a naughty kid in my class who used to get very poor grades and lacked discipline. He always made up cruel nicknames for the other children and had fun with his friends instead of paying attention.
On parent-teacher conference day, he was inattentive to my complaints and to his father’s repeated nagging to apologize.
Soon after, the meeting came to a close. When we got up from our chairs, the student made a sudden move that caught his father and I off guard. Years later, I still feel weird about what happened that day.
While he was standing in front of me, the student yanked his father. With the sudden shift, his father fell, head on the table and I also faltered and fell right on his lips with my lips.
He maintained his composure and furiously hit the child who was having a good laugh. Though it was unintentional that kiss was the angriest one and I still scold the student for what he did afterward.
He told the whole school.
I still cringe when I think about this.”
Sleepyhead
“In my first-period class, almost every day a young man skated into class just as the bell rang.
He would stack his books on the desk, and after morning announcements, he sat down, closed his eyes, crossed his ankles, and promptly fell asleep while sitting straight up. Every day, he would sleep so soundly in my class that he snored.
For a freshman in high school, or any age for that matter, he was quite tall, so there was a way he could hide his sleeping habits from me. Since he sat in the front row, his long legs stuck out in front of him causing a tripping hazard for me. Being the concerned teacher I was, I knew I had to get down to the bottom of it.
First, I asked him why he fell asleep. His noncommittal answer and shoulder shrug didn’t give me any information, so my next stop was the nurse. She quizzed him, checked his medical records, and ran a few tests on him, but there was no substantive answer to why he slept in class. The student simply said he was tired.
So I called his mother. Although it was the right thing to do, in retrospect, it brought about a chain reaction response I did not see coming.
At first, she was friendly and willing to talk; I told her about my concerns for her son. She listened, seemed attentive, and said she would have a talk with him. I should have known something was off when she didn’t mention anything about monitoring his bedtime or his technology use, but I held out hope that her prodding would bring about a change in his sleeping habit.
It didn’t.
A week passed with no change, and now we were approaching the mid-point in the quarter. I had to report that his grade was in jeopardy and he was in danger of failing.
I even scheduled a meeting with my student’s counselor but that still didn’t change anything.
After the meeting, the student’s mother called me and her voice had noticeably changed to a less-than-friendly tone. I detected a bit of annoyance even though she said she was supportive and would talk to him.
More time passed yet he was still sleeping heavily in my class.
Then I contacted the basketball coach because I knew Shawn was trying out for the freshman basketball team. Of course, the coach didn’t see a problem because after school Shawn was well-rested and ready to go. I warned the coach that his grade may prevent him from playing. However, the sleeping still continued.
As a last resort, I contacted the Dean to let him try a disciplined approach. My decision didn’t affect the student, but it dramatically changed things between his mother and me.
She called me in a huff and she told me something way too personal. As it turned out, my student’s father had an affair with another woman while his mother was pregnant with him. The second woman had a baby girl who by some weird coincidence in the universe was a student in my fourth-period class, but my student’s mother didn’t want him to know about it.
My student’s father married the second woman and his mother was very upset that their daughter was enrolled in our school, particularly my class. The drama only gets worse.
Afterward, the student’s mother kept calling me several times and left lengthy, angry messages. She was becoming more and more agitated and threatening. Apparently, I had become the target of her anger. This was all because I taught both her son and her son’s half-sister, and I brought disciplinary attention to her son but not the other child. I did not respond to her and turned all messages over to the administration.
A little more time passed and the time for scheduled parent-teacher conferences approached. It was school policy for the parent or student at a parent’s request to reserve a conference time. I taught approximately one-hundred-fifty students and had meeting slots available for forty conferences.
Neither my student nor his mother reserved a time slot, but my intuition operated on full alert and I knew she would show up. I had no time available for her because my schedule was completely full.
The night of conferences, I lined up chairs in the hallway for parents to sit on while they waited their turn.
In the midst of a conference with a parent, my classroom door was rudely yanked open and there stood a very tall, big-boned, beefy woman and an elderly man equally big-boned and beefy. I had never met the student’s mother in person, but I knew it had to be her. I was right and she had brought her father along for support.
Our exchange, getting more and more heated, went like this:
I quickly moved toward the door before saying, ‘excuse me, but I’m in the middle of a conference.’
The mother looked me up and down before saying, ‘I’m here for my son’s conference.’ I was trying to get her out of my room and back into the hallway where there were witnesses.
‘You never reserved a time,’ I said as patiently as I could.
The mother began shoving her finger in my face. ‘I don’t care! I want to talk to you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said while pointing to other parents in the hallway. ‘All these people made appointments, and you did not reserve a time.’
By then the angry mother was getting in my face. She was yelling and causing a scene that made the other parents visibly uncomfortable.
‘I told Shawn to make an appointment and you’re going to talk to me!’
‘I have no time available and I will not speak to you unless an administrator is present,’ I said.
‘You’re gonna talk to me and my father!’ The angry mother’s father was failing miserably at trying to calm her down.
‘I will not speak to you unless an administrator is present,’ I said for the final time.
The eyes of the parents waiting in line were as big as dinner plates and one father started to get up to help me.
Our interaction caused quite a stir. I told her where to find the administrators, cut the interaction off, and returned to my conference to apologize for the interruption. The mother never made an appointment with the principal, assistant principal, or dean. It was the last time I spoke to her.
I never told Shawn about his mother’s behavior, but he knew something was up.
After that experience with her, I knew I had to approach Shawn differently. He and I made a deal: he would try to get more sleep and I agreed, as long as he didn’t abuse the privilege, to allow him to excuse himself if he felt sleepy, get a drink of water in the hallway, and quietly return to class. His grades improved a bit, but they never reflected how well he could do.”
Like Mother, Like Daughter
“A long while back, I taught the sixth grade.
I wanted to visit other classes to see how other teachers taught. That’s when I went to one fourth-grade class and ended up meeting a student I won’t soon forget.
She could always be found sitting straight up in her chair, eyes always open as she looked and waited for something to get into. She always raised her hand in class and had a fit if the teacher didn’t call on her.
At recess, the kids were playing dodgeball and the game had barely started when she got hit. She was out but she refused to leave. Instead, she would always make excuses like, ‘He wasn’t behind the line when he threw the ball.’ Another time she got out, she announced, ‘She hit the cloth on my shirt, not me.’
When it came to the third time I had enough and said, ‘You’re out,’ with as much authority as I could muster.
‘Nuh-uh. I am not out.’
We got into a petty argument that went on for a few minutes until I pulled her aside to explain the rules of dodgeball. She was having none of it and insisted I have a chat with her mother.
Not knowing what else to do, I agreed to do just that.
Later that day when her mother arrived, she was in a smart business suit. She had just gotten off work as a lawyer. She explained that her daughter was not a troublemaker, she was great at home, and that if I would simply have her sit down and write out a letter explaining the situation each time she had a dispute, she would be fine.
‘It works with me at home. Have her write it out, and go line by line explaining what she could have done in a more mature fashion.’
That’s the day I realized the girl would be a lawyer one day for sure.”
It’s A Start
“A raspy, baritone voice echoed down the hallway as my thirteen-year-old student, Marvin, was being hen-pecked by his mother toward my classroom. Marvin moaned with objection to each nagging nudge. I closed my eyes, sighed, and braced myself.
Marvin’s mother was dressed in her pajamas. She shoved Marvin through the door and complained about her lazy son before we even sat down. Trying to hide under his baseball cap, Marvin was doing his best not to cry.
I praised Marvin for coming to school on a non-school day and introduced myself to his mother, who quickly announced how hard it was to pull him away from his video game.
Marvin’s mother made it clear how many problems she was having at home lately. Her son could not properly wash the dishes or clean the kitchen, he didn’t walk the dogs long enough, and he never did any homework.
I let her vent while trying to comfort Marvin by smiling at him occasionally.
Marvin had several different learning disabilities and could barely see. He qualified for free glasses and was given the voucher weeks ago, but it was his mother who never took action.
‘I’m concerned because Marvin is reading at a first-grade level,’ I blurted out quickly before I could be interrupted.
His mother responded by saying, ‘He never reads at home or does any school work! I yell at him constantly, I throw books at him, and threaten to take away his iPad, but nothing works!’
I fought the urge to inform her that the iPad was school issued before I took a deep breath to calm myself.
‘I’d like him to stay after school for tutoring twice a week so he can learn to read better.’
‘He can’t do THAT, he rides the bus. How will he get home?’ Marvin’s mother asked.
After some discussion, we realized that Marvin’s mother worked a quarter of a mile away from the school and got off shortly after tutoring sessions ended. Marvin was capable of walking to his mom’s workplace and riding home with her.
‘No! Absolutely not!’ she protested. ‘He would have to cross that busy street, by himself!’
I offered to walk with him the first few times to show him how to use the crosswalk.
‘He KNOWS how to use the crosswalk!’ She snapped, ‘I don’t trust the DRIVERS!’
I turned my head around to look at my stunned co-workers. They could tell from the look of my widened eyes exactly what I was thinking. One of the other teachers came to pat me on the back. Although apprehensive, I decided to speak my mind.
“Ma’am, your thirteen-year-old son can barely read. I am offering free tutoring, which would cost you one hundred bucks a week outside of school, but you are worried about him crossing the street?’ I continued, ‘There’s more of a chance he’d get injured in a car accident than he would by crossing the street.’
I wasn’t sure about what I said, but it was plausible and she was listening now.
‘He needs to learn to read, and yelling at him, throwing things, and denying him glasses are causing him to shut down.’ I stated.
‘Well,’ she paused, ‘who’s going to walk the dogs and get dinner started if Marvin won’t get home before me?’
Her true concerns exposed themselves.
‘Learning to read should be his number one concern right now.’ I said. ‘Also, Marvin responds really well to praise and noticing his strengths rather than pointing out his weaknesses, so maybe you could encourage him to help around the house and not yell at him.’
I said what I had to say.
Marvin’s mother whined about how scared she was to have him cross the street, and I repeated how worried I was about his reading level.
She finally agreed to the free tutoring sessions and said she’d get his glasses.
Feeling a little better, she left the meeting walking side by side with her son down the hall and we heard her say, ‘At least you made it farther than your good-for-nothing dad! He dropped out in the sixth grade and never did learn to read.’
It was a start.”
Night and Day
“Several years ago, I taught three siblings in the same year. Their father was the coolest, nicest guy I had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He chaperoned field trips, helped out in the classroom when necessary, and was really supportive of his children’s education. He also had primary custody of all three children.
Their mother, however, was a piece of work.
For whatever reason, all of the teachers who taught the three siblings ended up conferencing with both parents at the same time. Divorced parent-teacher conferences are always the worst.
This one was no exception.
The mother nit-picked and criticized everything anyone said, from her ex-husband down to the teachers. She wanted to see all of the documentation for everything, even though everything we were saying wasn’t incorrect in any way. She wanted to know how we were ‘challenging’ her children. She even criticized her ex-husband’s clothes.
‘Why would you wear that to meet with the teachers?’ She turned every criticism back to him somehow. The whole time, the father just sat back like it wasn’t fazing him.
The rest of the teachers and I kept looking around at each other. Without a doubt, we were all thinking the same thing:
Does anyone else see what’s happening? This woman is out of control. She’s complaining about nothing and really putting down her ex-husband, right in front of him.
I remember feeling so bad for the guy. I could see why he left her. I couldn’t help but wonder how such a cool, laid-back guy ended up with a woman like her in the first place.
Later I learned as he and I chatted during a field trip he was chaperoning with me, that his wife wasn’t always that way. According to him, her personality changed when their youngest child was a toddler. She ‘made some new friends at work, and he suspected she was getting involved with illegal substances with them. They were divorced within two years, and he got primary custody of the children because, in his words, ‘she didn’t care enough to argue for her own kids.’
The children went to their mother’s house every other weekend and, according to them, the mother was equally nit-picky and critical of everything while they were with her. All three siblings had to learn to ignore it.
Recently, I was told once they were old enough to decide for themselves, they quit going to her house.”
Bad Habits
“A nice-looking young couple, obviously educated, came to my 5th grade Parent-Teacher conference. Their daughter was a lovely girl who was doing well in class. I praised her for her work and behavior but told the parents I did have some concerns.
Speaking towards the father because the mother was looking tense, I told him that his daughter was continuously sucking her thumb. Not only was it bad for her health and dental formation but the children were constantly making fun of her and making her miserable.
He turned to his wife and said, ‘See, she gets it from you!”
I turned to his wife who was aggressively sucking her thumb. We worked on a plan and by the mid-term conference, both had tapped out.
Yes I did try to stop the bullying but I couldn’t be there all the time and the girl refused to tell me who was making her cry.”
It’s Really Not That Serious…
“I had a kid who had relatively minor behavioral issues. Truly he was just a knucklehead teenager. However, his parents were super-involved and had requested daily emails. So I told them what was going on daily.
There were only little things I reported like talking out of turn, for instance. One time, the parents demanded a conference. I thought it was odd because the kid’s grades were fine and his behavior was not out of the ordinary.
It was the father who insisted the assistant principal, resource specialist and counselor be present for the conference. Again, we all thought it was odd but were happy to oblige.
At the conference, the father of the student presented me with a pile of printouts on how to be a better teacher. The documents consisted of methods I could use and research while running my classroom. He also gave me a book on growth mindset so I would be more positive. The father also interrupted his wife at every opportunity. He got so enraged he beat his fists on the desk and yelled. Then, to everyone’s surprise, the father got emotional and cried.
I was beyond words. This was only supposed to be a conference for a kid whose biggest offense was being a minute or two late to class. I had never even raised my voice to the kid, and probably would never have reported his behavior except if his parents requested I did.
It was an ongoing scenario all semester.”
“Our Children Don’t Learn Anything”
“One year I was thrown into a new teaching assignment the week before school started. I taught geometry, which many students hated because it required a different type of thinking. It was worse with honors students because they felt they should automatically know everything without trying and were shocked when they didn’t.
One of my geometry classes tried to stage a mutiny because of a test before conferences. The principal informed me that she was getting emails about the class.
I was prepared for the worst and then surprised when most of my conferences were very positive.
However, that all changed as soon as one couple sat down and said that their children ‘weren’t learning any geometry.’ I explained how they were constantly distracted in class, and I was giving them new seat assignments to help them focus because on the day of conferences, the student in question had spent the entire class period drawing a clown when I thought she was taking notes.
That’s when the mother snapped. ‘That was one incident. It doesn’t explain the fact that she’s not learning. Plus, isn’t it true that you once forgot to post the answer key to a review guide and then gave a quiz the next day anyway?‘
The way the mother throws this at me is very confronting in nature. It was as if I was suddenly on trial.
‘Yes, that did happen once. We had gone over the majority of the answers in class the day before. I told students that they had time to ask questions before the quiz, and that, should it wasn’t ever going to happen again.’ I continued, ‘All they need to do is send an email or leave an online comment and I’ll fix it right away. It shouldn’t have affected their grade at all, and even if it had, I allow test retakes and am always available after school to offer help.’
Then came the awkward silence while the mom stared into the depths of my soul and wondered why I didn’t resign on the spot.
I ended up chuckling with my principal about the incident.
Some people you just have to ignore.”
