by Melinda Marshall PARENTING magazine

My son's kindergarten teacher and I were buddies, or so I thought. That was before I got The Call.

"Could you come in sometime this week to talk about Chase?"

When I arrived for our meeting, the teacher and three aides were seated in a semicircle facing a chair appropriate for a small five-year-old. I lowered myself into it.

"Mrs. Marshall," the teacher began, "we're all concerned about Chase's unwillingness to do his work — and his attitude in general."

The aides all nodded. I crossed and uncrossed my legs.

"His behavior is becoming disruptive to other members of the class," she continued, ³and I thought you'd want to know about it." I nodded. I couldn't speak, because a bird was thrashing in my throat, trying frantically to exit.

Somehow, this little parent-teacher conference about my darling son turned into a visit with the Grand Inquisitor. Every observation the teachers made and every question they asked sounded like an indictment of me as a parent. Hadn't I tried flash cards? Was I reading to him each night? Was I aware he couldn't tie his shoes? Every response I made started with a "Yes — but...," as in, "Yes, I know he can't count to twenty without skipping the number fifteen, but he understands the theory of relativity!" I had to fight back tears. I may even have gotten a little shrill.

By the end, I saw Chase's teacher for the hugely powerful person she was when I wasn't around. This was clearly someone with whom I needed to forge a strategic alliance. Only with her help was my child going to arrive, some future day, at the door of higher education instead of the state penitentiary. And to get that boost for Chase, I was going to have to let her know I was willing to devote time and energy to helping her.

"Teachers have such an enormous burden these days," says Elaine Mazlish, coauthor of How to Talk So Kids Can Learn, "that if they see a child connected to helpful parents, the gratitude they feel can't help but positively affect the quality of the attention the child receives."

How can you connect with the teacher while still making sure your child gets what he needs to thrive? If there is a problem, what's the best way to resolve it so that you and the teacher remain allies rather than adversaries? Below, suggestions for effective communication.

Get Involved

Let your actions tell the teacher you¹re in her corner.

"I'm never on the sidelines," says Vickie Schoeffler, an Elkhart, Indiana, mother of three, ages three, six, and nine. "I pinch-hit at the preschool when the teachers are sick, grade papers for my second-grader's class, volunteer myself for any activity where they're shorthanded. I think it makes a difference to my kids, as well as to their teachers."

Not everyone has the freedom or inclination to devote that much time and effort to their child's school. It's also possible to foster goodwill from afar, by writing notes, checking in by phone, sending in books for the library corner, and the like. But payoff is proportional to investment.

"Even if you're working full-time," says Mazlish, "try to take a couple of hours off now and then and offer yourself to the school to read a story, help organize a play, sing, take the kids on a picnic — whatever it is that you do and enjoy. It's absolutely important at the preschool level, but for any grade, it¹s a way of saying to the teacher, 'I'm interested in my child, and I¹m here to give you support.'"

Schedule a Conference

Most schools, from preschool on, schedule opportunities for parents to get to know their child¹s teacher — Back-to-School night in September or one-on-one conferences in November. But if you're harboring even the slightest anxiety about your child's adjustment or progress, don't wait to be called: Set up a conference on your own. "You have a right to know how your child is doing," says Virginia Miller, director of the Reading/Literacy Program at the Bank Street College of Education, in New York City, who specializes in family-teacher interaction. "Even if she's doing wonderfully, simply asking for a conference shows you're receptive should the news turn worrisome." Use the meeting to:

Tell the teacher a thing or two. Teachers want to know more about your child, especially in the earliest grades, and you're the best person to enlighten them on what's not obvious. "Share your hopes and concerns," Miller says, "listen carefully as the teacher does the same, and then see if you're talking about the same child. Some kids are different at home and at school, and you can both benefit by knowing the side you don't always see."

Request a critique. Be suspicious of a teacher who doesn't welcome parents' input or seems to discourage individual conferences, says Marguerite Kelly, author of The Mother's Almanac. Ditto for the teacher who too rapidly assures you that your child is perfect; she might not be paying attention, for no child is flawless in everything. "Ask her to be specific," advises Kelly. "Say, 'Tell me about Katie. Does she like painting and art? Is she good at sharing with the other kids?'"

"It's nice to hear that your child's ahead of her peers, but that doesn't mean there's no point to a conference," says Miller. "Say, 'She may be ahead, but I'd like to see her stretch: What can we do to help her keep growing?'"

Calm yourself. Calling a conference is often the best way to allay any concerns you might have. Nadene Zuidema, an Alexandria, Virginia, mother of two children, ages six and nine, remembers how concerned she was about her daughter Sarah's adjustment to first grade. "At our first conference I jumped right in," Zuidema recalls. "'Are there any problems after I leave her in the morning?' I asked. 'Is she clingy?' And her teacher was able to assure me that Sarah was doing fine. It made me feel a lot better because there's only so much a six-year-old will tell you."

The whole point of the first conference is to get and share information — and in so doing, establish what Miller calls "your willingness to collaborate." Then you'll be prepared, and ideally positioned, should the teacher have a problem with your child later on, or your child has a problem you need to resolve with his teacher.

Solve a problem. Had I taken my son's kindergarten teachers aside at the outset of the year and said, "Chase is very reluctant to learn his numbers and letters, and I'm worried about how he's going to handle formal instruction — is there something I can be doing at home?" I might well have headed off the impasse I described earlier. But I didn't. And then I failed to turn our confrontation into a constructive dialogue; instead, I got defensive.

Establish yourself squarely in the teacher's corner from the start. Say something like "Boy, it can't be easy keeping up with twenty-one first graders," even if what you really feel like saying is "Quit picking on my kid."

That way, she's more likely to call off the dogs because you've shown her you're not there to be critical but to listen. And in turn, she'll be more willing to hear you out because she won't feel defensive.

To make sure your exchange remains helpful, says Mazlish, bring a pad and pen and take notes. "Teachers will be more accurate, and less global in their criticism," she observes, "when their report is recorded."

If the teacher refuses to rein in her comments — ranting, "Johnny fights continually!" or "His work is always a mess! He¹s so disorganized" — don¹t write that down. (Don't burst into tears, either.) Instead, Mazlish counsels, translate her criticisms — out loud — into constructive directives. "Say back to her, as you write, 'Johnny needs to learn to settle arguments' or 'He needs to keep his desk and notebooks neat' — and ask her, 'Is that correct?'"

Don't leave the conference without getting at least one positive thing you can share with your child so that he's more receptive to the directives you've cataloged.

When it's your turn to talk, be prepared to offer the teacher your own list of positive and constructive suggestions. Talk about what your child responds to best, says Kelly. "Tell her what kind of kid he is, where he gets his energy, what you do to divert him from an outburst. Remind her that he's got a new baby brother at home or that his grandma's just died. Or maybe suggest that he needs to hear, 'Hey, I think you're nice.' Teachers sometimes lose sight of how scary they can seem to a five-year-old."

But what if it really is bad chemistry? For older kids you may decide to resign yourself to the fact that it's not going to be a great year, Miller notes. "If you feel it's not going to have a permanent effect on his intellectual or emotional well-being, then he may learn a valuable lesson about the world. There's something to be gained from surviving an imperfect environment."

Don't be Afraid to Get Tough

If the teacher or his approach is too damaging, then you owe it to yourself and your child to take action. Some parents fear that confrontation will backfire on their child or that they'll be typecast as "difficult." But the outcome depends entirely on your approach: Adopt the tactics of a diplomat and you'll be respected as one.

First, says Kelly, get your ducks in a row. Obtain information. Just as a lawyer wouldn't attempt to try a case with a briefcase full of hearsay, you need to document your case with firsthand research. Ask to observe your child and her teacher in action: "No classroom can go more than ten minutes on best behavior," Kelly notes.

Then, ask the teacher for a meeting. Wear your most professional, confidence-building attire, bring your spouse to demonstrate how seriously you both take the issue, and also bring documentation — homework, artwork or notes from your stint in the classroom. Make your case, not as a condemnation but as an observation. As in any other conference, accord the teacher the respect of an equal and enlist him as an ally, even if your views are opposed.

When Schoeffler's first-grader brought home papers he'd written that were unreadable, his mother called a conference. "Educate me," she said to her son's teacher. "I need to understand how he's supposed to be learning to read, because it¹s not working." To prove her point, she brought the papers. The teacher told her she was confident that in time, her methods would work. But halfway through the year, seeing no signs of improvement, Schoeffler called another meeting. "I told her I really felt my son could benefit from working one-on-one with me, using more traditional materials." Rather than becoming defensive, the teacher gave Schoeffler the phonics primer she requested. The double-schooling worked; Schoeffler reports her son is now an accelerated reader.

If your meeting results in a standoff instead of a mutually agreed-upon strategy, call another one — this time with the principal in attendance or perhaps the school psychologist or whatever third party you and the teacher can agree should arbitrate. The point isn't to pull a power play. "Rather than threatening to take your argument to the principal," Miller advises, "ask, 'Who can help us come to some understanding?'"

Here's where a cooperative, collaborative spirit will serve you best. If you do meet with the principal, don't open by lambasting the teacher; it¹s the principal's job to defend her, just as it's yours to defend your child. Lay out your case as neutrally and concisely as possible, and enlist his aid by offering your own. Ask, "What can I do to help? What skills of mine can I offer?"

It's the most basic kind of quid pro quo, says Kelly. "If you want and expect so much from your child's teacher or school," she points out, "then you're going to have to give back in kind."

Lamentably, I had to learn that the hard way. This year, at seven, Chase enters a new school system, and I intend to make the most of the clean slate I've been given. His teacher and I are going to be allies from the outset, no matter what the battle.