My report card came in the mail in a sealed envelope addressed to my parents. I was expecting its delivery, so when I saw the mail truck driving down our street, I bounded down our rocky driveway to intercept it. In my bedroom, I held it up to my lamp to see if I could detect its markings. I ran my finger along its seam to see if perhaps I could gently pry it open, sneak a peek and neatly reseal it. This behavior was uncharacteristic; my grades were always decent. But this quarter I was fearful they had dipped below average.
My dad tore open the envelope after dinner and held my report card so both he and my mom could read it. They lowered the document and smiled at me. “Great Job, Moni!! We are so proud of you,” my mom exclaimed. My dad nodded in agreement. I snatched the yellow report from their hands, and quickly scanned my grades: several H’s (High Quality) a few S’s (Satisfactory)…and there it was. A seemingly emboldened “I” written next to ‘math.’ A letter indicating “Improvement Needed.” My heart sunk. I glanced back at my parents certain they had somehow overlooked that grade, but they placed my report card on the countertop and drew me into their huddle. They pointed to the box at the bottom of the report card. “This is why we are so proud, of you, Moni,” my mom said. “This is the section that matters most to us.” It was the portion of the report card that reflected character and behavior. And I had received straight H’s.
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My husband and I have jointly attended every parent-teacher conference for our boys. There are times when we sit in side-by-side mini chairs across from the teacher, raise our eyebrows and nod our approval of Zach’s academic achievement (yes, even in preschool and Kindergarten). But when his teachers tell us that Zach noticed the child who was being left out of the class activity and created space for her to join, or that he brought a tissue to a classmate who needed one—it’s those moments that fill our hearts with pride. I flashback to my own parents and their affirmation of my character when we take Zach out for ice cream and say, “Buddy, these are the reasons we are most proud of you.”
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Zach and I shoveled snow off our deck earlier this week. It was wet, heavy snow and it took us nearly an hour to remove it. Zach said, “if my friends from school were here, we would each get a Service sticker!” At Zach’s elementary school, there are four core values which encourage students to RISE: Responsibility, Integrity, Service and Empathy. His comment got me thinking.
Due to the pervasive implications of the Covid-19 pandemic, thousands if not millions of parents and caretakers are about to commence our first-ever attempt at homeschooling. For most of us, I presume these waters are uncharted. We are crafting our curriculum from resources available to us and scouring the internet for scheduling ideas. We are leaning upon the amazing educators who have gotten our kiddos this far, and who have committed to helping us navigate this unfamiliar territory. Likely, this novice parent-turned-teacher cohort is placing tremendous pressure on ourselves to teach our children the things that will keep them on target academically. Ways to prevent our students from falling through the cracks. From losing momentum.
In our county and district, remote learning officially starts tomorrow. Some states have already determined that students will not be returning to school until Fall. Maybe Colorado will follow suit; I don’t know. What I do know is that we have been given the gift of time. We can take a collective deep breath and enter this Spring Semester with grace, patience and hope. While I am tremendously appreciative and respectful of traditional classroom-style teaching, I am considering this time as an opportunity to explore new horizons. I would like our emphasis to be less about “school work” and more about “soul work.”
Teaching our students to ‘RISE’ will look different from family to family and kid to kid. Maybe Kindergarteners can color cards that can be mailed to healthcare providers. Perhaps older elementary students could learn fractions by following a recipe for apple-zucchini muffins and delivering a batch to the the elderly couple who lives down the street. Maybe middle school students could select a favorite local business and conduct a social media marketing campaign in hopes of keeping them afloat during these economic hardships. High schoolers could possibly coordinate a philanthropic effort, such as a literal “canned food drive” where they roam the neighborhood collecting non-perishables (by observing social distancing, of course) and deliver them to local food banks. The sky is the limit.
At the end of this school year, what grades will we be looking for in our child’s ‘report card?’ My earnest hope and prayer is that months from now, even after quarantine and isolation, our youngest generation will be equipped to RISE victorious over this and any other adversity that comes their way.
Dramatic Paddocks 