Let me describe the worst parent-teacher conferences I ever attended. Picture a large, echoing gymnasium, with teachers seated behind tables set nearly edge-to-edge around the perimeter; two molded-plastic chairs face each table. In the center of the gym, a roiling mass of hundreds of parents, trying to locate their daughter's teachers, assessing the length of lines. Facing each table, a line of parents, standing, waiting for their three-minute "conference" with the teacher, also their only opportunity to sit down during the evening.
How did parents know that a conference should take three minutes? Because it said so in the information sheet picked up at the front door. Also on the sheet: a reminder that teachers should not be asked for a special phone or e-mail chat, later. In other words--here's your three minutes. Use 'em or lose 'em. When parents finally made it up to the table, they could hear conferences on either side of them, while the people waiting behind were a) keeping tabs on the length of each conversation and b) discreetly eavesdropping.
