Report Cards

As children, my sisters and I were not like your average kids. We actually look forward to receiving our report cards. This was our chance to shine - to revel in our achievements and bask in praise from parents and teachers alike.

Our mother taught us to read at a very early age. In fact, all three of us were reading between the ages of three and four. I'm sure that being able to read gave us a huge advantage and allowed for our excellent grades and scholastic achievement. However, there was one year when report cards were not such a source of joy.

In Grade Five, I went through a 'bad girl' phase. I wasn't truly bad, but I was very mischievous. I got distracted with my friends and started fooling around in class. We had French lessons that year. I had moved around a lot, and had been in a school district that didn't teach French until the higher grade levels. So, I was way behind the other students who had been learning French since Grade One. And besides, I really wasn't putting much effort forth to catch up. I was having too much fun.

Getting my report card during that term certainly had me worried. I had never let my parents down with my grades before. I guess there's a first time for everything. I tore open my report card to discover an ugly grade of "D" amongst some unusually low marks in my other subjects. I handed my report card to my parents with great trepidation which was not unfounded. My parents hit the roof!

Within minutes my Dad was on the phone with the principal, and then with my teachers, setting up parent/teacher conferences to discuss my straggling grades. It quickly became apparent that I had been slacking off and my parents lowered the boom. My study time was monitored, my homework was checked and I was grounded for two long weeks.

After that report card, I did a complete turnaround. In fact, the following year I did a complete turnaround. I became obsessed with being the best student in my grade and received an award for Most Improved Student that year, followed by an award for Highest Achievement two years later.

The sad thing is, I was much happier in Grade Five. True, my grades had slipped, but I was a more balanced, well-rounded child. I ended up developing Obsessive Compulsive Disorder during Grades Six to Eight, likely due to the extreme pressure to succeed that I felt from my parents and from myself.

Today, I am a parent. Report cards are still an exciting time for my son, who is also seemingly blessed with the ability to achieve scholastically. But coupled with my pride in his success, is a nagging reminder to never push him too hard, or to become overly critical of his performance. I only wish that my children will grow up to be healthy, happy and well-functioning adults. Report cards are an important indicator of strengths and weaknesses, but just like everything else, a lack of balance can be unhealthy, even with disastrous results.