When the report card is not the final word

By Dr Marlene Attzs, Economist

Email: marlene.attzs@gmail.com

Across Trinidad and Tobago, graduation ceremonies have come and gone. School halls and auditoriums have echoed with applause, proud parents have taken hundreds of photographs, and thousands of children now wait anxiously for examination results that they believe will determine their future.

After delivering the feature address at the graduation ceremony of my alma mater, St Gabriel’s Girls’ RC School, I found myself reflecting on a different question: what if we are measuring the wrong things?

As someone whose own life was profoundly shaped by Catholic education, I know first-hand the lasting impact that dedicated teachers, disciplined learning and strong values can have on a young person’s future.

That experience has also taught me that some of life’s most important lessons are never reflected on a report card.

A report card tells us how well a child performed on a particular set of questions on a particular day. It tells us nothing about kindness, integrity, compassion, courage or faith.

Yet these are often the qualities that determine whether a person ultimately lives a meaningful and fulfilled life. Perhaps that is why Jesus reminds us to let our light shine before others.

One of the songs many of us learned as children was This Little Light of Mine. We sang it enthusiastically, perhaps without fully appreciating that it was rooted in Jesus’ own words: “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matt 5:16).

Every child enters this world carrying that light. Parents do not create it.  Teachers do not create it. Schools do not create it. God does.

The role of parents, teachers, and the Church is to help children discover that light, nurture it and encourage it to shine brightly. Sometimes, however, we unintentionally allow examination results to cast shadows over that light.

A child who receives a disappointing result may begin to believe that he or she is somehow less capable, less valuable or less gifted than others. Nothing could be further from the truth.

One examination cannot define a life. One school placement cannot determine God’s purpose. Indeed, many adults can testify that some of life’s greatest disappointments later became unexpected blessings. Sometimes what feels like disappointment is, in fact, God’s redirection.

The prophet Jeremiah reminds us: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jer 29:11). God speaks about hope before He speaks about success. Hope enables perseverance. Perseverance develops character. Character shapes destiny.

Today’s children are growing up in a digital world where reputations can be built—or damaged—in seconds. As parents and educators, we teach children how to read and write. We must now also teach them how to post, how to disagree respectfully and how to exercise good judgement online.

Every click leaves a footprint. Every post reflects our values. Before pressing ‘send’, perhaps every Christian should ask one simple question: Would Christ recognise Himself in what I am about to post?

Our digital lives should reflect the same Christian values we seek to live in the physical world. Those virtues do not disappear simply because we are behind a screen. In many ways, social media has become another opportunity to either allow our light to shine or be hidden.

We should continue striving for excellence in our classrooms and encouraging our children to develop the talents God has given them. But equally important is the recognition that education is about far more than qualifications. It is about formation.

Every society needs doctors, lawyers, engineers, accountants, teachers and economists with knowledge and technical competence. But our country and world also need women and men whose decisions are guided by honesty, compassion, humility, integrity and a commitment to the common good.

Qualifications may open doors, but character determines what happens once we walk through them. Too often, we celebrate titles, awards and positions more readily than the qualities that sustain families, communities and nations. Qualities such as honesty, humility and integrity are not measured on a report card, yet they often distinguish truly great leaders. As a society, perhaps we should spend as much time nurturing—and looking for—leaders of character as we do celebrating leaders with impressive qualifications.

At the end of our lives, few people will remember the grades we received. Far more will remember how we treated others: whether we were honest, generous, or forgiving; whether we stood for what was right; and whether we reflected Christ in the ordinary moments of daily life. Those are the marks that endure.

Long after examination results have faded, what will remain is the person our children have become. The world is far more likely to remember the lives they lived—their honesty, compassion, courage, generosity and faith—rather than the school they attended.

As parents, teachers and people of faith, may we strive not only to raise children who are academically successful, but women and men whose lives reflect Christ.

For when the report card is no longer remembered, God’s love, God’s purpose and His call upon each child’s life will remain.

That’s my point of view.