Report Card Time

It's that time of the school year where report cards are distributed. As a child, I loved getting my report card and seeing my effort and accomplishments given letter grades. I liked to learn, and it came fairly easy for me, although I certainly had to put forth effort to earn my grades.

Ironically, I had fears when I became a parent that I would struggle with a child who didn't do well academically. And now I'm the proud parent of Teddy.

Report cards look a bit different now, using a scale of 1-4, with that mythical 4 being the highest. I've yet to see a 4 on a report card through second grade, despite having a child who can read all the words on the 5th grade reading test. I've seen plenty of 1s, though, as that's nearly all that Teddy's report card contains.

When I was a child, I was graded on both achievement and effort. Even when a child struggled with the material, a A could be given for effort if that child was trying to do the best work possible. There's no grades for efforts now, and Teddy's graded on the exact same metrics as every other first grader.

His report card wants to make me laugh and cry at the same time. I chuckle because how can he actually get anything more than a 1 for social studies? But I want to cry because it just seems mean that a child who cannot talk gets a 1 for his ability to sing. That isn't a fair category for a non-verbal child.

Report cards sting only for a day or two, the day we get them and the day of parent-teacher conferences. Because they're just numbers. They don't reflect the effort, work and true progress that Teddy puts forth and makes each day. I know that, and so does his team.

His music teacher clearly wanted to share some positive regarding Teddy, despite him receiving 1s for nearly everything. (He got a well-deserved 3 for interacting appropriately with music. It's a hoot to see that boy dance.) She said:

Teddy loves to participate in music class. He loves to participate by playing instruments and moving to the music. Teddy is always eager to take his turn. I never need to ask him twice to take his turn for any activity. He can hold all instruments with a strong grip from large drums to skinny mallet sticks. Teddy can play a steady pattern on percussion instruments, as long as it is a tempo he chooses. Teddy will continue to practice moving to music appropriately. He can perform all actions (pat legs, jump, touch toes, clap hands, etc..) with assistance at the start, but Teddy struggles to walk or march in a circle for more than a few seconds. 

I love how she focused on the fact that he's eager to take his turn, not the reality that he probably struggles when his turn ends sometimes. I also laughed out loud when she gave him credit for playing a steady pattern ... as long as he chooses how fast or slow he wants to play.

I reached out to thank his music teacher for her comments because it is clear that she wanted to share positive feedback for Teddy, and I recognize that it must be hard for his team to give him 1s when they clearly see how hard Teddy tries in so many ways. (They also see when he's stubborn and has no interest in following their agenda, so don't think I don't realize that.) She's a first-year teacher who's doing an amazing job (remember how Teddy was included in the holiday concert) and appreciated hearing from me.

We've often said that although we want Teddy to reach his full potential academically, we're far more concerned with him being loved, accepted and valued for the awesome child he is. He has that at his school, and we're extremely grateful.