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Bad, Be Like, and Dad: In Case of "B" Break Glass My daughter is currently pulling a D- in math. This is her phone. galexion: handmetheshovel: thatguyinthecornerino: randomavengersquotes: lolnerdsposts: robanilla: justsomeonereloadable: thesecretkeith: blanketfortprincette: tastefullyoffensive: (photo by fistfullofcookies) Why do parents always assume their kid is lazy when they get bad grades? Like maybe help your kids by talking to them, not punishing them. This is how I failed math and didn’t even know I had number dyslexia for years. When my sister was in high school she struggled a LOT with math. Like I know a lot of people find it really difficult (myself included), but I mean she was really really bad at it. She has always been a very smart, creative and sensitive person, but math made no sense to her, to the point where passing seemed impossible. I will always remember that twice a week, around the kitchen table, my sister would sit down with my dad for hours, and they would try to work out her math homework. I should mention that my dad is an artist, and art teacher. Truth be told I think he struggled with math just as much if not more then she did. But twice a week you could hear them downstairs, going back and forth, trying to figure it out together. Some nights would be smooth and easy, some nights I could hear them arguing from one floor up about factors or equations, not in anger but in mutual frustration. I remember the day that she passed. My sister couldn’t wait until my dad’s school day ended, so she called him at work. She gleefully announced to him “I got a D-!”. We could hear him through the phone as he exclaimed “She got a D!” excitedly to his class. Still through the phone we heard his students clapping, laughing and whooping in congratulations. Seldom has a grade in our household been so celebrated. Just thought a shitty picture like this should be accompanied by a story about a person’s parents who actually gave a shit about helping their kid instead of mocking and punishing them. Read the story Read the story Read the story reblogging for the story. READ IT. THE STORY If it weren’t for my dad I would not be able to read and write. I was born1971 and people really didn’t know or care that some people struggle not because they are lazy but they just fuckin’ can’t do what comes easy to most. My dad did what that father did. Dad was working 12/14/16 hour days. And still… he sat down and read up on shit, talked to my teacher - and then he saved me. Reading has made me. I am a reader. The one thing people know about me is: she reads. Be like dad. Don’t be a tit. R E A DT h eS T O R Y