For many teachers, this face-to-face contact with the tax-paying customers remains a source of tension however often they do it. The new teacher has to recognise and try to avoid a range of potentially disastrous pitfalls the parents’ evening can hold.

Chief among them is talking about the wrong child, which is where good memory comes in. Depending on subject, a new secondary school teacher may have anything between 150 and 300 students spread across as many as five year groups. The initial parents’ evening may be in the first or, at latest, second term and this can lead to that awful moment when the teacher, in full spate, realises that the child being described is totally unrecognisable to the parents.

“Oh yes,” the teacher will say brightly, “Jemima’s really keen on sport, ” when the parents have actually come to complain about why their daughter has to do PE at all. Or else: “If only Ben would manage to say a few words in French, ” when the child in question has been jabbering unstoppably during the family’s last visit to their house in the Dordogne.

At this point, there are two choices: stop and admit the mistake or press on and hope that you can actually remember their child sufficiently to say something sensible before you lose all credibility. Having beside you photographs from the group’s files, or the school year book, if there is one, can make this disaster marginally less likely.

It will not help, though, with the parents who are determined to make a particular point and latch on to some long-forgotten incident in a lesson as evidence of your wrong-doing. Quick thinking will be needed to explain why telling Melissa the Second World War began in 1938 is not evidence of general incompetence but simply a silly mistake.

As for approaches to the truth: some parents prefer the straight-from-the-shoulder: “Jonathan’s a total pain and there’s no way he’ll get any GCSEs.” But most prefer their truth more palatably presented. “Meryl doesn’t seem to be as positive as before and I’m not sure if she realises just how close to exams we’re getting” may generate more revelations about home life and the struggle the parents are having to keep her in line.

And this, in the end, is what parents’ evenings are for - effective dialogue between teachers and parents in the interests of the child. There are several obstacles to good exchange including the artificiality of the five-minute appointments timetable and the overhearing proximity of other teachers and parents. But the skilful teacher can usually get across the key points and also listen for a variety of tell-tale signs in the responses.

Do the parents, for instance, accept too readily everything that sounds like criticism of their child. Is there too much of the “yes, I know what you mean” and not enough of the “I’m suprised at that” to suggest that they are concerned to boost the child’s confidence and enhance his self-esteem? Or do they have unrealistic ambitions which put the struggling child under constant pressure to achieve the unattainable?

And how much do they accept their role in the partnership between school and home? Does “I think she gets too much homework” really mean “I can’t be bothered to keep checking the homework diary” or “it’s all too advanced for me, I’m out of my depth”?

These, and many more remarks, will provide clues to help the conscientious teacher meet her students’ needs. The influence of home on school success is powerful and, in most cases. this once-a-year meeting will be the subject teacher’s only opportunity to gauge whether it is supportive or otherwise.

This will be equally true for the parent so this evening is an important public relations event. Both the way individual teachers discuss their children and the overall arrangements will give powerful messages to parents about the school to which they entrust their offspring. Sloppy organisation, a poor welcome, teachers in classrooms at the end of dark corridors, no refreshments and, perhaps most of all, a breakdown in the appointments system may cause parents to question whether their child is in the right place.

For teachers, the appointments system can be a real cause of irritation. Some have long periods of idleness while others work non-stop throughout the session. The ones with bigger gaps tend to talk more and this disrupts the others’ tight schedule. Also, many teachers are poor at closing conversations. No one wants the “That’s it, you’ve had your five minutes” approach but being able to prevent the single parent relating his marital difficulties for the third time is a skill many teachers still have to acquire.

Another is the greeting. Stand up and shake hands or sit securely behind the desk and gesture vaguely in the direction of the other seats? One approach implies openness and a sense of equality, the other a determination to exercise power or else an admission of serious insecurity. Many staff settle for something in between.

Body language can also help or hinder effective dialogue. The PE man who leans aggressively forward and bangs on the table from time to time will probably intimidate parents. But the scientist who crosses and uncrosses his legs throghout the interview or rubs his hands together in a Uriah Heep-ish manner is not going to inspire much confidence.

At the end of the evening comes the inevitable question: “What have we gained?” Have all those tight little conversations enhanced mutual understanding between school and home or merely reinforced previously held prejudices? If the latter, then some serious appraisal of the process and its management are overdue.

For the new teacher, it will have been a nerve-wracking but important initiation. If, as you join the throng in the pub, you have the high a successful meeting with parents can produce, it will have been a good evening. If not, it won’t be long until you have another chance.