“I think you’re having trouble understanding why we’re here, Mrs. Davis.” Mr. Haberman, the Assistant Principal, sat up in his chair, doing his best to take up as much presence as possible.
Carol crossed her legs and adjusted her skirt, doing her best to suppress the storm that was seething inside. “I understand enough. I understand my daughter is being blamed for being bullied.”
The other person in the room was Heather Green, Jenny’s teacher, who was doing her best to remain silent and smile brightly. That perky fake-smile was not helping Carol’s mood. Not at all.
“She destroyed another student’s art project, Mrs. Davis. In yet another of her temper tantrums. They’re getting out of control.”
Carol looked out through the window into the main office where Jenny was sitting, her face wet with tears, her thumb firmly in her mouth, Muffin being held in a stranglehold.
When she spoke, her voice was terse and rigid. “First of all, they’re not tantrums, they’re meltdowns. We talked about this when I first enrolled her. Yes, she lashes out. When she’s feeling overwhelmed. When she’s feeling bullied.”
“I assure you, Mrs. Davis, we don’t permit bullying at our school. Miss Green would certainly have interceded.”
“Beth is a monster.” Each word rolled out of Carol’s mouth and slithered around in the air before resting on the table in front of Mr. Haberman.
The Assistant Principal looked at Heather, who licked her lips thoughtfully and looked out the window. Her fake smile waned just a little.
He tried again: “Some of our students are more energetic than others, but that doesn’t excuse your daughter’s…”
“Jenny is responsible for her actions, but the adults around her are responsible for not putting her in situations where she’s likely to become overwhelmed. She doesn’t even want to come to school anymore, because of the way that bully has been abusing her.”
“I’m sure Miss Green can move her seat, but that still doesn’t address….”
“Miss Green should have moved her seat after the first incident. Is there another teacher Jenny could be moved to?”
“Again, you’re missing the point, Mrs. Davis. Your child destroyed another child’s artwork. Tore it to shreds. We can’t just look the other way for something like that.”
Carol clenched her fists and looked back out at Jenny. Inhale, exhale, Mama Bear. Inhale, exhale. “So what do you suggest?”
“Have you had her evaluated because of her outbursts?”
Carol’s eyes flared. “Have you not read her file? Is she not getting her proper services? And, again, we talked about this when I first enrolled her. Do you not remember?”
Mr. Haberman stammered and looked helplessly at Heather, whose smile had devolved into a smirk. “Of course, Mrs. Davis, of course. We’ll review all of that, we’ll make sure she’s getting that support.”
“Let me say this clearly: They’re meltdowns. She’s Autistic. She needs help managing them, and that includes not sitting next to a cruel self-entitled monster. Are you not aware of how Beth treats other children?”
“Mrs. Davis, I’d prefer if you didn’t talk about other children like that.”
But at this point Carol had already stood up and was done listening. “Move Jenny. To the other side of the classroom, if not to another classroom entirely. And for the love of God, get her her proper services. As soon as possible.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Mr. Haberman had shrunk down into his chair.
Carol walked out of the room, picking her daughter up and carrying her on her hip out of the school.