At the risk of making myself sound nerdy, I have a confession to make. Although they are time-consuming and their deadlines can cause stress, I like writing report cards. There, I said it.
Now, I am not claiming that I would choose to write report cards over anything else, and, sure, the relief of completing these documents is always welcome, but I must admit that the entire process is life-giving for me. It certainly did not start this way.
I used to dread report-card seasons as the three most demanding and exhausting times of the year. My first principal, Cathie Oberndorf, helped me discover a healthier attitude towards them. She encouraged me to imagine an individual child sitting right beside me as I wrote their report. To this day, with this picture in my mind’s eye, I find the specific words and examples to accurately name the child’s strengths and improvements. With honesty, I attempt to challenge them onwards. Whether a student is the top of the class or struggling with many concepts, everyone has room for improvement. Everyone needs goals.
Furthermore, in writing report cards, I receive an opportunity to evaluate my teaching performance. I examine the role I have played in helping that child reach his/her potential, and focus on ways to improve … myself. If children are struggling, what am I called to do to help them? What different strategies should I implement? How can I improve in my communication or my teaching plans?
Report cards require discernment and a chance to articulate my discoveries. Finally, reporting provides a chance to try again, with renewed focus, as I strive to reach my potential. This sounds a lot like Lent, doesn’t it?
In honesty, my attitude toward Lent has undergone a similar transformation. As a young person, I always claimed to “dread” or even “hate” Lent. I appreciated how Lent was “good for me” and I always felt I had achieved some personal successes by the time Easter rolled around; however, on Ash Wednesday, the 40 days ahead felt like a marathon of self-denial was about to begin.
I now welcome Lent as a time of reflection and growth. I have come to see it as a necessary process in my personal development, both as a person and as a child of God. Just as I would have gladly avoided report-card writing had it not been mandated, it’s doubtful I ever would have chosen to make Lenten sacrifices and examine my conscience for 40 days if the Church hadn’t suggested it. To be a better teacher, I need report cards; to be a better person, I need the spiritual “report card” of Lent.
Lent, I have learned, is not only about giving up things, such as chocolate or favourite television shows. It is a chance to remove a few “wants” from my life in order to open my eyes to areas of need. In the language of report cards, I examine my habits, communication, responsibility, sensitivity to others, and ability to listen attentively, to reflect on ways in which I can improve.
As a teacher, I may often miss the mark with my students, but thankfully, the Master Teacher already knows me and helps me grow by awakening in me the need to receive and return the gift of his love.
As Stephen Bevans in An Introduction to Theology in Global Perspective states, “God offers God’s very self” and “faith … is also a gift of one’s self” given to God in return. Bevans continues, “The act of faith is not a one-time act, but something that we do constantly, daily, in our lives.”
While I like the chance to re-evaluate and fine-tune my personal focus during report-card season, to say that I “love” report cards would be a bit of a stretch. To say that I love what Lent offers, however, is accurate. After all, everyone needs goals.
Lent is a time of concentrated exploration meant to renew our faith, not just as a one-time act but to forge the path for a lifetime with God. As challenging as this can be, I look forward to honestly looking within, evaluating my progress, and offering myself to the one Teacher who can never miss the mark.
