My daughter was 7 years old, in second grade, and her teacher called us in for a chat.
Her teacher was one of the wisest, most wonderful teachers I could have ever dreamed for my daughter to have, and I knew my daughter absolutely adored her. My daughter was also excelling in school. So, I couldn’t imagine what Mrs. P wanted to talk to us about. We walked into the classroom after school, and Mrs. P was visibly upset about something. She showed me a piece of paper which was a report card that the children were told to fill out for their teacher. They were told to grade their teacher A, B, C, D, or F…A being the best, and F being a failure.
I was astonished to see that my daughter had given Mrs. P a grade of “F.” Mrs. P looked at me with tears in her eyes, and she said, “I just want to know why?” and then she looked at my daughter and said, “I can’t even imagine why you would give me an F. Have I upset you in some way?”
My daughter looked aghast, and said incredulously, “No! I gave you an F, not an A! See?” she said, pointing to the F, “You deserved an F!”
I was befuddled. My daughter clearly thought that an F was high praises for her teacher. “What do you mean, sweetheart? Do you know what an F means?”
My daughter rolled her eyes and giggled, “Of course I do, Mom.” She pointed to the letter A and said, “A is for Awful!” then she pointed to F and said, “And, F is for Fantastic! Mrs. P is Fantastic!”
You could hear the thud of the weight that was lifted from Mrs. P’s shoulders as she and my daughter embraced.
