Public school report cards were a kind of nemesis for some of us. They were tell-tell evidence of our achievement — or lack thereof — and your parents had to sign them to confirm their having seen same.
The grade portion was quite to the point of how you made the grade utilizing the A to F scale. On the back was a small amount of space for each six-week grading period for the teacher to make her or his comments. I frequently received the familiar notice that I needed to “apply myself more”. While the message might have been code between teacher and parents, no one ever explained quite fully how in heaven’s name I had anything more to apply to myself.
After the first or second reading of the report card, my Mother, bless her heart, would emphasize how I really needed to “apply myself with the added proviso: “If you are ever going to amount to something, then you had better…”. Depending on the topic, the next line had something to do with practicing the piano, or doing your homework, or keeping your room immaculate, or getting off the phone. I’m seventy-seven and still wondering how to apply myself if I ever want to amount to anything!
But there is an antidote to this dreadful dilemma so dramatically expressed by Josephine, my grandmother’s helper: “Lord, have mercy! Now ain’t you something!” In that affirmative credo she meant that we were conceived and brought forth and given life. The Creator concocts the wonderful chemistry of this universe and endows you with so much that you are indeed better off right at the very beginning. And then, to beat all, the grace! The amazing grace. The splendid and marvelous grace that states before the creation and all these witnesses that you are created by God and called to be a child of God.
Now, ain’t you already something special! This is as good as it gets! Without all the striving and pushing and competing and toiling and spinning, there’s already something about you that’s as beautiful as the lily of the field. And there’s a carefree spirit within you that’s as free as the birds of the air or the sheep in the twenty-third pasture.
Once I realized how much grace applied to my life and heard the rumor that God just might grade us on a curve, I was free from the fear of failure. While the law of averages was on my side, t’was grace lifted me from the quagmire of under-achievement and made me something special. That’s as good as it gets.
I remember those report cards. I even found a batch of mine. A common theme was: "Jimmy's an excellent student. He could talk less."