On the Run But Can Not Hide

I start deposing my witness. I am on a roll, for sure.

"So this poster, what is it's purpose?"

"It hangs in every classroom for the students."

"I get that. For what purpose?"

Nothing. I think he knows that a truthful answer will invite a pant-load of criticism, and/or laughter.

I spare him. I never have the stomach to actually let anyone hang themselves with their own rope. It is enough for me that they have felt the noose tighten.

So I answer for him. "If you are about to tell me that this is what suffices as distributing your "policy" to your student body, you need to understand what a fiasco that seems like to me. And probably every other reasonable adult. I dare you to go out into the hall and grab the first kid you see and ask them about this poster. I would bet that they would answer that they've never read it. Or that once they started reading it, they stopped because it made no sense to them."

No argument. I continue. "All this legalese? This is meaningless to a student. This poster is nothing more than lip service. This thing (and again I am waving it for emphasis) tells me that you are really only interested in being able to say you distributed the policy to your kids and don't care at all whether they understand it or follow it."

McDuff is trying to rally. Tries to tell me that there is a legal definition of Bullying (No shit, Sherlock.) and that is what the poster is for.

I cut him off. "The poster is a joke. When you get sued by some parent who won't make the time to come see you like I have, you are going to get laughed out of court. I suggest you tear it up and start over. But before you do, you need to have a conversation with the kids. One day next week, maybe next Wednesday, every first period class in this school skips the regular curricula and instead the teachers remove the poster from the bulletin boards and have an hour long, interactive, healthy, informative discussion about what the poster is there for and what a terribly awful thing Bullying is, and what they should do if they experience it in any way."

"Our classes are 50 minutes."

He really did not just say that.

I look at him in a way that suggests that he just confirmed that I've been correct all along in thinking he's a ninny.

"Fifty minutes would be a big improvement over anything you've done so far."

They are both nodding. "Great idea," says the Notetaker. I am still in shock that I had to come up with it.

I have one more question. I point to the poster and read aloud from a section where it states that "The Compliance Officer shall publish and disseminate this policy and the complaint procedure at least annually to students, parents, guardians, employees, independent contractors, vendors and the public. The publication shall include the position, office address, and telephone number of the Compliance Officer."

I take a moment to allow him to read the statement and for his pit stains to begin forming. "Can you tell me the last time this was done? Or when I can expect it to be done? Because I've been a parent with kids in this school district for 9 years and I couldn't pick the Compliance Officer out of a lineup."

"I didn't realize that it said that." (Umm, it is not a talking poster.)

"So moments ago, you insisted that this poster met the letter of the law and yet you are not even remotely familiar with it? Is that a truthful statement?"

He looks at me like he'd like to will me to die on the spot.

Check and mate.