Growing Like Weeds

I recently embarrassed myself.

My daughter’s school held a parent coffee—one I actually managed to attend. Even though I work from home, it’s rare that my mornings aren’t swallowed by meetings starting between 9:30 and 10:00. (Working with school districts means that this is practically midday.) But on that particular morning, the calendar gods aligned, and I found myself sitting in a circle with a small group of parents discussing three books on parenting.

The division director led the conversation with such ease, weaving in personal anecdotes that opened the door for all of us to admit something real. It was the kind of hour that refills the proverbial cup, even when you didn’t realize it had been empty.

A few weeks later, I saw her walking into school as I was driving away from drop-off. On impulse, I rolled down the window and called out, far too proudly:
“Thank you for leading such a great parent coffee. I actually had such a great time!”

Why—why—did I say “actually”? Her face registered my faux-pas instantly. I knew it the moment the word left my mouth. I hadn’t meant it as an insult. I hadn’t expected to enjoy myself—not because of her, but because I’d forgotten how nourishing it can be to sit with other parents and talk honestly about parenting. But that’s not what I communicated. To her, it likely sounded like: “Surprisingly, you did a good job.” Not my intended message.

Still thinking about that moment (and wishing for a do-over), I eventually wrote her an email.

I had two reasons. First, the opportunity presented itself: after a recent parent-teacher conference, I realized just how much gratitude I owed to the people who spend each day guiding my daughter. Her teacher had been phenomenal—frank, encouraging, insightful. When someone gives you that kind of care, you say thank you.

Second, what I’d said in the parking lot was still nagging at me. I hadn’t intended to offend her, and with a line of cars behind me, I’d had no time to explain myself.

So I sent this note:

I hope you’re well, staying warm, and enjoying the weekend. I’ve been meaning to send this note for a few weeks (okay, months): Our daughter is adjusting really well due in no small part to the support of her teachers.

I especially wanted to let you know how grateful we are for their thoughtful feedback and insights about her progress. They were incredibly accommodating at the beginning of the year, which was a particularly difficult time for our family. On a personal note, I’ve been going through repeated surgeries and therapy for thyroid cancer, and the start of the school year came with many ups and downs. Knowing that our daughter was in such capable hands alleviated a tremendous amount of pressure when things at home felt unsteady.

I simply wanted to share this positive feedback and thank you again for leading such a wonderful parent coffee and book talk. For me, it was a much-needed reminder about the power of community and taking time to focus on the things that matter most.

I don’t know whether the landing stuck this time—but I’m learning that expressing gratitude, even imperfectly, is always better than not saying anything at all.