I glance at Ben in the backseat. She’s still talking to Frederick, but somehow the story has morphed into an epic quest involving dragons and brave snails.
I text Rosa:Change of plans. Can you meet us at FHG instead of home? Ben needs her snack but I have a meeting with Sabrina.
Three dots appear. Then:Of course. I’ll bring everything. Be there in 15.
Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.
She sends back a heart emoji. Because Rosa is the kind of person who can somehow make emojis feel like a warm hug.
Twenty minutes later I’m in Sabrina’s temporary office at FHG headquarters. She’s got her laptop open and that efficient PR energy fully activated. Ben’s in Ben’s Corner with Rosa, having her after-school snack.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Sabrina says.
I walk her through it. The meltdown. The Brave Rules. The mom filming. The “just for my stories”defense.
Sabrina nods. Takes notes. Doesn’t interrupt.
When I’m done, she says, “Okay. We need a class-list note. Clear boundaries. Written. Distributed to all families. School-wide.”
“What do we say?”
“Values first. Privacy over content. Kid dignity as non-negotiable.” She’s already typing. “We frame it as care, not restriction.”
We draft together. Back and forth. Cutting corporate speak. Adding warmth. Making it firm but not hostile.
The final version reads:
A noteabout privacy and care:
Many school families have chosen to keep school moments off social media. This isn’t about being difficult. It’s about giving kids agency over their own image.
If you see a moment that feels “shareable,” pause before posting. Ask yourself: would this child want this preserved forever? Would their family?
Guidelines:
- No faceswithout explicit written permission from parents
- No meltdowns, wobbles, or vulnerable moments
- If you’re unsure, don’t post. Or ask first.
- If asked to delete, do so gracefully
Takedowns:If something slips through and a family requests removal, please delete promptly. No questions. No debate.
We’re all learning to balance connection and privacy. Thank you for respecting these boundaries.
I read it three times.“It’s perfect.”
“It’s necessary.” Sabrina hits send. “I sent it to the Parent Teacher Association. It should hit the class list later tonight.” Then she looks at me. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine.” The lie comes automatically.
She frowns. “Jess.”
I sigh. Slump in my chair. “I’m terrified I’m going to screw this up. That some parent is going to post something anyway and it’ll blow up and Marco will realize hiring me was a mistake.”
“Has he said that?” Sabrina presses.
