I remember when I was growing up, I used to hate report card day. Not that I got bad grades—are you kidding, my parents would have killed me—but because of those damn teacher comment sections. It’s a lot easier on a kid’s ego these days, when teachers select an option of either:
A: Your child is an excellent addition to our school.
B: Your child is a nice addition to our class.
C: Your child is doing well.
D: Your child needs supervision.
E: Your child is a malignant little shite and s/he’s trying to kill us.
But in my day, report cards were hand written little expressions of a teacher’s dedication, affection or concern for their students. So, I would get As. And I’d get E for Excellence in my citizenship (and let me tell you, when the illegals I went to school with tried to rub it in that I wasn’t Mexican enough for them, I rubbed that “citizenship” in as hard as I could). And then came the dreaded teacher comment: “She does well in class, but she is not living up to her potential.” Or, “She has such potential.”
To this day, the word “potential” really sucks.
It was all I heard through at least ten years of school. My last two years of high school, no one much cared who had potential, they were just glad we deigned to come in and secure the school with its allotment of financial rations from the state. But I’ve never stopped wondering. What were all those teachers seeing me do that convinced them I had something fabulous to offer the world? And what made them so sure I was keeping it to myself? It was like being told I was magical and then not telling me how to use the magic.
I occasionally took some time to try and find this mysterious potential. Was it hidden in my subpar penmanship? Had I tucked it away in the pocket where my math skills were supposed to go, because the lock on that pocket was rusted tight. I mean, it’s not like I went to school and said to myself, “I’m only going to use 50% of my best energy today.” Then it hit me. Maybe I had to grow into it? Maybe they saw something I’d have when I was older and wiser and faster and stronger and all those things kids imagine adults are supposed to be.
So I grew up.
But I’m still looking for my mysterious potential. I’m also a neurotic twit who goes over every little thing three times, seeks absolute perfection 
and drives the hubby absolutely nuts trying to find the perfect solution to a very small, oddly shaped living room and way too much exercise equipment. I’m what you might call an overachiever at times. I want to get everything right so that when I get my next report card from a reviewer or a reader or a friend or an editor, they see a glass mostly full instead of depressingly half empty.
I can’t even fault my teachers, who’ve shaped me into the raving perfectionist that I am. I mean, after years of their subtle torment, I’m quite the sarcastic cretin and wouldn’t you know it, I write romantic comedy. My books, even the dramas, are generally populated with folks who live for a good comeback. Well, that and mind-blowingly good sex. (Which, ironically, earns the same expression of concern on my father’s face as those old report cards.) And you know what? I can totally live with that. How’s that for living up to my potential?
Now, in ode to my report cards of yore, choose a selection of the current “standard” comments a teacher can choose from the above A-E list that best fits you and post it in the comments section to enter my giveaway. One randomly drawn winner will get an e-copy of Test Me!, my new erotic comedy from Samhain Publishing!
I’m really curious to see how many malignant shites there are out there…apart from me. 🙂
Potentially perfectly yours,
Dee Tenorio
Currently I would have to give myself a C: Your child is doing well. I am in my last semester of college, and I have all A’s and B’s. However, I am going into finals week and boy do I have senioritis – I can’t bring myself to do anything school related anymore!
Well, teachers and professors have always ranked me in this category – A: Your child is an excellent addition to our school.
However I would rank myself – D: Your child needs supervision. I am two weeks way from graduating college, and I have SUCH bad senioritis that I literally can’t focus in class anymore! I have begun doodling excessively, I even fell asleep in lecture the other day, not good, lol. I def. need my friends to supervise and make sure that I stay awake in class!
I’m “B: Your child is a nice addition to our class.” Only because I was an OCD perfectionist in school. I hated getting into trouble. Then I grew up bwahahahahhahahaha Just kidding~I’m still a nerd!!
I think we had the “choose a comment” on our high school report cards. My kids still get handwritten comments in elementary school though. My oldest son is quiet (unlike his mother) in school and really is a smart little thing (he’s too smart for his own good and I fear the day he’s smarter than me) but he is the messiest kid ever~handwriting, art stuff etc. He will get all 3’s and 4’s (the elementary grading is 1-needs work, 2-okay, 3-sufficient, 4-advanced. They use fancier words but that’s what it means basically) and always one 1~”works neatly”. His teachers have just started to say “that’s J. He’ll probably always be that way” LOL
ROFL at the fun pictures, Sybil!
Tracy–Fellow OCDer! Oddly, though, I was in trouble fairly regularly. (That might have been from the derrisive comments telling teachers how to do things “right”). Sadly, my son is already smarter than me. It sucks. At least his teachers admit he’s smarter than them, too. LOL!
Dee
I was always a “B” student. Never really excelled, but typically stayed in the above average catagory, which made my parent’s happy enough, thank goodness.
Well, when I was in school I tended towards the A range. My parents being in academia was an influence, I guess. But in retrospect, a D, “needs supervision” looks like so much more fun. Now that would have been an accomplishment, in my eyes. 🙂
I feel I should add the comments that I’m allowed to give on report cards that made me giggle in an evil way the first time I saw them.
B Actively participates
C Makes exceptional effort
D Achievement is outstanding
E Excellent attitude
F Progressing satisfactorily
G Showing improvement
H Absences affecting grades
I Needs to improve study habits
J Fails to turn in assignments
K Low test grades
L Disrupts classroom procedures
M Exhibits little or no effort
N Needs to improve self control
I, L, M, and N are my favorites.
But I teach high school, so there’s a bit of difference in comments I suppose. Sometimes I wish I could give your option E though. It fits with quite a few of the dears.
Love this post! Being a classroom teacher myself, I was always the suck up in school so I guess A would fit me. Those nuns really should have watched me though, in class because I was a little unhinged at times. I agree with Lawson’s comments, too, because some of those ones she gave rival the ones I have to give on our “electronic” report cards- if you can’t find a comment from a given list, you can’t use it. What a crock!
🙂 Well, back in grade school, I probably would have been D: Your child needs supervision. I got horrible grades, and always seemed to get in trouble. I used to get the “has potential” comment as well- hated it! In high school and beyond, I think it would have been B or C with the occasional A. These days? Probably C: doing well. I think.
In High school I always got a’s, and I was the child who functioned under the belief that sucking up to your teachers made life easier for everyone. Then, when I was being stupid, they knew it wasn’t normal (and they also knew me as more than a face) so I was more likely to get help and an extension.
Unfortunately, in College that over-achiever, need to please everyone philosophy has slipped a bit, so I’m a more C/B student.
But I still like getting good grades, I’m just re-prioritizing them now.
I would strive to be teacher’s pet. I made “A”s on tests and classroom assignments. All that was easy for me. I did not do any homework… almost ever! So the teachers loved/hated me. I did have a kind of blow out in Jr High, once, though.
Thanks for the commiserations, gals. Over/Under achievers unite! 🙂
As for the winner, we’re going with Lawson! It’s hard to beat someone who lists–with Alpha code!–13 options for a report card! My OCD just throbs with glee! So, Lawson, email me at laideebug @ gmail. com (No Spaces) with your preferred format and you’ll have a free e-copy of “Test Me!”
Big hugs and Happy December all!
Dee
My reports cards always said needs to control talking or learn to stay in seat. Hmph so rude.
Thanks Dee, but as a contributor to the blog, I don’t think I’m allowed to win. . .am I Sybil?
Oh really! Shoot. Let’s see, if not you—though, still, high points for the list—lets get the boy to randomly choose a post:
He picked JC. (BTW–checked your blog, JC…can I have the guy in that cover?)
Hugs!!
Dee
Yep that is why I called yesterday to crush your spirit and ask you to post cuz I felt like death.
So thank you 😉
YAY JC! Hope you enjoy it.
Dee, Malignant little shite here! Like you, I was CONSTANTLY getting the “not living up to her potential” comment. I grew up in California, which was a more active lifestyle, and was on the drill team and ran track along with getting okay grades, but for some reason, all of my teachers seems to have thought they had a budding rocket scientist. I just didn’t get it!