Gemotions

"Oh, Mr. Henderson! Great to see you!" I beamed, shaking his hand with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. My daughter, Chloe, had been placed in his class. And Mr. Henderson, the man who had failed me in math all those years ago, was still clinging to a profession that had rejected him the first time.

I made it my personal mission to be the most helpful parent. I was always the first to volunteer for field trips. I brought elaborate, healthy snacks that I knew Chloe would hate. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect, especially for Chloe.

I began to subtly critique his teaching methods. “Chloe mentioned that she wasn’t quite grasping the concept of fractions, Mr. Henderson. Perhaps a different approach?” I offered, my voice dripping with honeyed concern.

I watched him struggle, the lines around his eyes deepening with each passing day. Each slight, each awkward interaction, was a sweet, silent victory.