At some point, every school reaches its breaking point — and one high school in Queensland, Australia, did it in style!
The staff at Maroochydore High School were done dealing with endless complaints from parents. Instead of sending home yet another letter that would probably get ignored, they decided to update their school’s voicemail. But this wasn’t your average “Leave a message after the beep” kind of thing… oh no.
The school had recently introduced a new policy where both students and parents were held responsible for absences and unfinished homework. Sounds fair, right? Well, not everyone thought so! Some parents were so upset, they even tried suing the school — demanding their kids’ failing grades be changed, even though those same kids had skipped 15 to 30 days of class and barely lifted a pencil!
So, the school’s new voicemail went a little something like this:
RIIIINNNGGG…
CLICK!
“Hello! You’ve reached the automated answering service for your school. Please listen carefully to the following options:
Press 1 if you’d like to lie about why your child is absent.
Press 2 to make excuses for why your child didn’t do their homework.
Press 3 to complain about how we do our job.
Press 4 if you feel the need to swear at our staff.
Press 5 if you missed the information we sent out in newsletters and flyers.
Press 6 if you expect us to raise your child for you.
Press 7 if you want to reach through the phone and slap someone.
Press 8 if you’re requesting a new teacher for the third time this year.
Press 9 to complain about bus transportation.
Press 0 to complain about school lunches.
If you’ve finally realized that this is the real world — where your child is responsible for their own behavior, homework, and grades — and that it’s not the teacher’s fault when your child doesn’t put in the effort… please hang up and have a wonderful day!
Oh, and for service in another language? Please move to a country that speaks it.
Thank you for supporting public education!”
Now THAT’S what you call setting the record straight!
Wouldn’t it be great if more schools had this level of honesty?
It was the end of little Lily’s very first week of school.
It was the end of little Lily’s very first week of school, and she was not impressed.
She stomped into the house, plopped her tiny backpack onto the floor, and crossed her arms with a dramatic sigh.
Her mother, trying not to laugh at Lily’s serious face, asked, “How was school, sweetheart?”
Lily threw her hands in the air. “It’s a disaster! I’m just wasting my time!”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Why do you say that?”
Lily huffed. “Because I still can’t read, I still can’t write, and they won’t let me talk!”
Her mother bit her lip to keep from giggling. “Well, honey, you’ve only been there for a week. Learning takes time.”
Lily wasn’t convinced. “Pfft! I thought school was about learning stuff! But so far, all I’ve learned is how to stand in line, how to sit crisscross applesauce, and how to be quiet! I’m very good at talking, you know.”
Her mother nodded. “Yes, I’ve noticed.”
Lily continued, pacing dramatically. “And another thing! They keep making me share my crayons. MY crayons! What if I run out of blue? What if I need blue? I love blue!”
Her mother sat down next to her. “That does sound serious.”
“And don’t even get me started on nap time!” Lily threw herself onto the couch. “I never feel sleepy when they want me to nap.
But the second we start math? Boom! My eyes wanna close all by themselves!”
Her mother finally let out a chuckle. “Sounds like you’ve had a very rough week.”
Lily nodded dramatically. “The worst. But…” she paused. “I did make a friend. Her name is Sophie, and she has sparkly unicorn stickers. And she says she’ll trade me one if I bring her a snack tomorrow.”
Her mother smirked. “Lily, are you making snack deals in kindergarten?”
Lily grinned. “Shh, Mom. It’s called business.”
Her mother shook her head, pulling Lily in for a hug. “Well, Miss Businesswoman, I think you’ll figure school out just fine.”
Lily sighed. “I guess I’ll give it another week. But if I still can’t read by Friday, I’m gonna need to speak to the principal!”
Her mother laughed. “Deal.”
