It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

As For the Child, I Shall Take Charge of Them Myself! (1)

"...though Ms. Yang's outburst seemed to stem from my explaining story structure – beginning, middle, and end, you see," Mrs. O'Reilly explained, her hands together on the desktop. A stack of Lilliana's teacher's feedback sat in a neat pile on the corner of her desk. Cold light bled through the windows, showing off the brown and gray playground and jungle gym.

Matthew buried his face in his hands, groaning. He so desperately craved a cigarette. Why he hadn't restocked yet, he wasn't sure.

Lilly seemed to share in her nanny's agitation. "Just because you think my story wasn't good doesn't mean it you get to tell me to start over," Lilliana shouted, standing from her chair.

"Inside voices, Lilliana."

She glowered.

Flapping his hands in his lap, Matthew asked, "Okay, pinpoint the issue, because I worked on it with her. It had a definitive beginning, middle, and end." Though why a first-grader was learning how to write anything beyond simple narratives alone was beyond him.

Mrs. O'Reilly reached for the paper on her desktop. "It's nontraditional," she said, her voice shaded in a gentleness Matthew wasn't sure was real. "A dragon who collects diamonds tries to rob a palace for more, only to become friends with the prince and princess and then help them slay the goblin who keeps them captive." The woman glanced up. "Only for the dragon to cook pizza and the princess runs into the forest to live with the nymphs."

Silence. Matthew shrugged. "And?"

She placed the paper down. "Mr. Robinson, I'm certain everyone at Brookfell is happy to see you again after your...absence – "

Besides Mr. Hanford. That fucking prick.

" – but this unit has been all about fairy tales, and the lessons learned from them. This is a nontraditional ending."

Lilly rolled her eyes. "Don't talk to strangers, don't eat weird food, don't crawl into rabbit holes. I already know that."

"Lilly," Matthew warned.

She grumbled, sinking into her chair.

Mrs. O'Reilly stood, grabbing a stack of papers from a cabinet. "Emily, one of Lilliana's friends, wrote a story about a mermaid who steals, and gives back what she took. Christopher wrote a story about a car who drives away but ends up missing home." She offered them to Matthew.

He did not take them.

Mrs. O'Reilly placed them down on the table, fanning them out to entice him to reconsider. "Ms. Yang's ending is...isn't..." She did not finish the thought.

Matthew's stomach boiled; he swallowed it back, viscerally remembering the agony of this ritual. He didn't miss it one bit. "So?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Isn't it important to consider diverse viewpoints?"

This, clearly, was not the answer she was looking for. "Mr. Robinson, that isn't the point."

"Then is Lilly in trouble?"

Mrs. O'Reilly seemed to falter for a moment. "No in trouble, per se, but she didn't follow – "

"Then why am I here? Why do you need to tell me that this child I take care of is not in trouble?" Matthew sat forward. "Because, honestly, this is all starting to get quite annoying."

Lilly sat forward. "Matt?"

"Ms. Culpepper and I are in here every week listening to your concerns for Lilly and her cousin. They are never-ending, let me tell you. Just before, I was listening to Ms. Parrish consider diagnosing Lilly with ADHD."

Lilly tugged on Matthew's sleeve. "What's ADHD?"

Her teacher sighed. "It doesn't concern you – "

Matthew turned to her. "ADHD stands for Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Generally for people who have a hard time focusing, and/or act impulsively and hyperactive. And it's the thing teachers say to parents in the hopes of drugging their kids because they're not acting a specific way." He turned back to Mrs. O'Reilly, his eyes staring daggers. "And do not tell her it doesn't concern her. A teacher was talking about her. If she asks, why should I hide it? That's underhanded and rude."

"Mr. Robinson, please – "

"I think the thing I'm getting most frustrated at is the sheer amount of time I've wasted in this building, listening to you complain about the kids I take care of. Mr. Burgess still won't let Lilly in his class because, despite the fact the class is called 'Art', he runs it like it's an 'Art History' lecture in college."

Mrs. O'Reilly smiled warily. "We're not saying Lilliana isn't suited – "

"Really?" Matthew asked, his tone incredulous. "Goodness, would've fooled me by the amount of paperwork you write about her and Eli. 'Lilliana's handwriting is inefficient.' 'Elliot's math skills are developing well, but he can't sit still.' 'Ms. Yang's outspokenness is becoming tiresome, but she's a joy to have in class.' 'Mr. Yang is admirably curious but should not be talking about topics not discussed in class.' 'Lilliana's too emotional for her own good.' 'We think Elliot's starting a cult.' It just never ends with you people."

"What is happening?" Lilly asked.

Matthew found himself leaning forward, pressing his hands against the desktop. "You're not saying she isn't suited? Is that it? Then what is the point of our weekly meetings where you, and every one of her teachers, rattle off every inefficient thing she's ever done? You hold them after school and they can sit in on listening to this? Do you have any idea how that makes someone feel? What that can do to a kid's confidence? Their sense of self? I'm surprised neither of them have gotten depressed from this fucking place."

"Matthew – " Mrs. O'Reilly started.

"You have the fucking gall to look me in the eye, week after week, and tell me everything wrong that my kids have done yet tout Brookfell like it's a haven among kids when it's so clearly not working for them. They're struggling just like any other kid, yet that doesn't seem to be enough for you. Why don't you beat them with a yardstick while you're at it. Maybe that'll do something."

"Mr. Robinson – "

"What, do you hope that being absolute assholes to my kids in your stupid, arcane education structure that one day, if you push them just hard enough, they'll throw their hands up and say, 'You know what? This is fun' and smile as they lose any semblance of being a well-rounded, curious human being who still wants to learn."

Lilly watched him, studied him for a moment.

Mrs. O'Reilly sat forward, her hands clasped together on the desktop. "I understand the frustration, Mr. Robinson, but here at Brookfell – "

"No," Matthew snapped, but that seemed to be the moment that he caught himself. He sat back, wiping his face against his shoulder and cleared his throat. "Sorry, Mrs...O'Reilly. Can I have a moment to recollect myself?" He did not wait for a response; Matthew was already standing and heading for the classroom door the moment she opened her mouth.