Page 83 of Love Lessons

Chapter 18

Landon

Even with Dustin taking care of him these days, the long hours of family-teacher conferences were getting to him. Landon stretched uncomfortably in his desk chair. He had another parent coming in a couple of minutes, but he needed a moment to take care of his bodily functions and maybe clear his head a bit.

He usually liked these meetings. It could be a little draining, with so many parents wanting to know every detail about their children’s progress back-to-back. In middle school, most families didn’t even bother showing up for conferences, and some of the teachers were aghast that he had so many coming in.

But he’d cultivated a close enough relationship with most of the families that it was typically pleasant to see them and catch up on the strides their children were making.

Today, though, it was wretched. The families had been told that the program was being dismantled and everyone was frantic.

He tried to reassure them, but of course, there wasn’t much positive he could say. Would the special education courses still have interpretation for all subjects? Would advanced high school classes still be available? Why did the school district want their children back in their local schools? And were they allowed to stay here?

Mostly, he just said “I don’t know. Make sure you get that in the IEP for next year. If it’s in the IEP, the school district has to provide it.”

But it hurt his heart, because what he wanted to say was “your kids are totally screwed because this is fucked up and we’re all powerless here.”

He also wanted to say, “I asked for an appointment with the superintendent to discuss the issue and I hope I can make a difference,” because of course he didn’t know if he could. Not to mention that the appointment was weeks away and they were supposed to put in their school selections for next year now.

And then they would ask him what he was doing next year. And if they could get their kids into his classes wherever he was teaching.

The taste of those pleas was bittersweet. He loved that his families and students loved him so much, but he couldn’t promise anything. He wasn’t even sure if he would have a job.

Some parents were incensed, and he sent them directly to Principal McGillans. Parents tended to wield a lot more power than teachers in situations like this, so maybe they could do something that he couldn’t.

His last conference of the day was with a family that immigrated from the Ivory Coast, and that was hardest of all. They spoke a rare African language at home, knew some French, and had just started to learn English. He wanted to explain to them all of their rights and opportunities, limited as they were, but they’d never advocated for their daughter and he knew they wouldn’t now.

They loved her, of course, but the gaps of education, imperialism, race, and language were just too much for them to cross. They felt that the school would do what it was supposed to and that it wasn’t their business to be involved. Even when he’d crafted Ami’s IEP last fall they’d just agreed to everything he’d said, without question.

“Stay at this school,” he told them, hoping that they would understand. It was the best he could offer, since they’d have more interpreters here.

He should have told them to bring Ami to the conference to interpret, even though he hated making children do that. She’d attended a Deaf school in her home country where they taught American Sign Language, and even though she’d entered sixth grade several years behind, she was catching up rapidly and even learning some English.

The father kept his lips pressed closely together and didn’t use the same lip shapes as native speakers, but it looked like he agreed. The mother silently agreed, but then again, she never spoke in these meetings. It was frustrating, but it also wasn’t his place to judge.

He finally shook their hands and saw them to the door, hoping that Ami would somehow get what she needed.

The whole day had been frustrating. And heartbreaking.

As he walked to his car, his whole body felt jumpy and uncomfortable. He knew exactly what he needed.

A scene. As deep and intense as he could get.

The only problem was… he probably wasn’t going to get it.

Before Dustin, he would have driven the hour into the city and found someone to make him hurt and forget. And he’d thought he’d be able to get that from Dustin, but somehow it just wasn’t quite happening.

He drove home and changed clothes anyway, wondering if he could change their plans for tonight. He wanted a Lena day.

And he knew that Dustin would be fine with it. Dustin always supported him however he presented and seemed to appreciate whatever clothes he wore.

But Dustin had also gotten reservations at a nice restaurant for tonight. And while Landon felt comfortable with feminine presentation at a few places that he knew were accepting, like the munch, Escape, his family, and some explicitly queers spaces, it wasn’t something he felt safe doing just anywhere.

If he showed up at a fancy restaurant and someone said something cruel to him on top of everything else that had gone down today, he felt like he would crumple.

The restaurant was supposed to be a treat for finishing up conferences, and it had sounded like one when Dustin had suggested it. He just hadn’t anticipated how wrung out he’d feel right now. He was emotionally finished with everything, and he needed a break.

Actually, what he really needed was to have Dustin step in as his Daddy again. But that hadn’t happened in the past few weeks either. Dustin had already been a little wary about inadvertently hurting Landon, and after the subdrop fiasco, he’d gotten protective.