The long Autumn Term draws to a close. Nativity costumes have been procured (not a dry eye in the house), carol service singing practice abounds and there is a thinly veiled frenzy of excitement as the festive season beckons.
Tired teachers will be managing rehearsals with a growing sense of desperation, ‘They haven’t learnt the words. They won’t be ready!’ That’s the day job. The evenings are spent writing reports, late into the night. No wonder they need proof-reading.
Some ‘celebrity’ reports have been widely published. Their former teachers must now read them with a wry grin. Perhaps one of the best known was the Head’s report for Stephen Fry: ‘He has glaring faults and they have certainly glared at us this term.’ Stephen Fry was eventually expelled: creativity takes many forms. An apocryphal report (one of my favourites) was from a Latin teacher: ‘I do not know who this boy is, which reflects badly on both of us.’
After the end of term festive frolics, reports will be distributed. What do they mean to the students and to the parents? Over the years a blandness, a homogeneity has crept into reports, teachers wary of being critical. Praise and encouragement are essential but, at some point, the generously gratuitous must give way to guidance and advice.
In writing the Head’s report, knowing the child and summing up my colleagues’ reports, I would sometimes advise the pupil to read the report first for the praise and then to read it again for the advice. No teacher wishes to diminish or damage confidence but they must feel safe in providing direction; constructive criticism, diplomatically expressed. And such advice should be read in the spirit in which it is given.

Where every child can do well is with effort – endeavour. Progress is a different matter and, while we’re at it, let’s distinguish between achievement and attainment. The latter is assessed against standardised benchmarks: National Curriculum levels, GCSE, A Level and so on. Achievement, in my view, is far more important, because it celebrates individual progress based on the pupil’s unique character, potential and ability. Yes, national exams are inescapable, but achievement is personal on the sometimes pot-holed road leading to those exams.
So, reading that end of term report, break down the content. Look at the data and consider it relative to an honest appraisal of your child’s ability and character. Go through it with your child. Reinforce the praise and congratulate. Where effort is seen to be lacking seek out the reasons. Where advice is given and targets are set, be encouraging.
A comprehensive report will have not just data, numbers on a scale with ‘descriptors’, it will also have text. Reflect on what is being said (or implied). Read between the lines and, if necessary, seek clarification from the teacher, objectively, with the goal of supporting both the school and your child. Last month I wrote about when and how to intervene or ask the school about a worry which comes home from school. The same principle applies to reports: there should be two-way communication and trust between parent and school. Where there is subjectivity it is easy to let emotion cloud the data.
On reading the end of term report a (fictitious) parent wrote to the school: ‘I am writing to complain about the end of term report. Billy is not illiterate. His mother and I are married.’

Mike’s book, Careering is available now with troubador.co.uk.
You can contact Mike at mikepiercy@hotmail.com
with your education-related queries.