School report

I was rather amused as I remember how in my days the report was given to us the pupils and students who would then reluctantly hand it over to our parents. In my case my siblings and I had to strategically time our father’s mood before you place the precious document anywhere near him.

At the same time you had to make sure he read it while you saw him, otherwise he would claim he never saw it. So for a few agonising minutes we would keep our mouths shut as he took all the time in the world reading the report.

The next round of torture would be the questions as to the reasons why the report did not read like an award reading academic success story. In between tongue biting a lot of inaudible murmuring we tried to justify the trashed report.

Our father’s usual conclusion was “You could do better.” and depending on how bad the grades were you could be grounded for the whole school holiday or we would be warned how if we did not pull up our socks we would be headed to the village to look after cows.

Ever since my daughter started nursery school the tradition is that we the parents pick up the reports. In a way it provides an opportunity to meet with the class teacher and get to see the inside of the classroom in which she learns.

Depending on what time one goes to pick up the report you also bump into fellow parents. The feedback from the teachers is very helpful and I remember how one of her nursery school teachers informed me that my daughter seemed to fear the drawing class and out of frustration my daughter would end up crying.

Speaking with my daughter at home and encouraging her to draw anything anywhere her confidence picked up and now she is into drawing ladies posing as models on any scrap of paper she comes across. Another development that is now part of the school system or at least in some schools is the issue of us parents filling in the school diary.

Whereas in our days our we seemed to have had much less homework our parents did not seem to be that involved in our day to day academic performance. School was school and home was a place for us to catch up on plenty of playtime.

These days I am half tickled and partially annoyed when my daughter decides to leave all her homework for the morning as I am not able to sign the diary until she is done. The new way of doing things is far cry from handing over a report to less than impressed parent by far.

After having had too many drinks in ...

Author: Natasha K’okutangilira

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