A difficult report card is not a verdict; it is a clarion call

THE QUESTION

We got our daughter’s report card and it was, by objective standards, not a great one. She happens to be very savvy and geshikt, just not so academically minded. Should we address it with her, or should we shield her from it?

Rabbi Yerachmiel Garfield

A difficult report card is not a verdict; it is a clarion call. It is a message to parents that something in their child’s school experience is not working, and may even be painful.

MY

short answer is: You should do both.

Let me explain.

Over the years, I’ve made a public offer that, to date, no one has managed to beat. I claim to possess the worst limudei kodesh report card ever issued. My parents lived in our childhood home for over forty years. About five years ago, they downsized, which required my mother to sort through decades of papers and memories. One day, an envelope arrived in my mailbox, a time capsule from my youth. Inside were artifacts from my childhood, including a beautiful footprint from my earliest days of life.

And then there was the document. My eighth-grade report card. It stopped me in my tracks. Three heis, two daleds, and a gimmel. In over 25 years in chinuch, I have never seen anything quite like it. Most students with such grades don’t remain in school long enough to receive a report card at all. And no self-respecting mechanech today would send something like that home. We’d sooner leave it blank or write “NG” (no grade) than record a string of heis.

The best part? Some of the heis had plus signs next to them. I wonder, does that mean it was almost a daled, or just a particularly strong failure? To date, no one has managed to show me a worse limudei kodesh report card. For someone who now writes regularly about chinuch, that’s a distinction I wear with a mix of humility and pride.

What’s more remarkable is that my parents never showed it to me. I had no idea it existed. And for what it’s worth, I eventually turned things around, graduating high school with honors. In retrospect, I believe they were right not to share it with me. Seeing that report card would not have motivated me; it would likely have crushed me.

So yes, sometimes shielding a child from a devastating report card is not avoidance, but wisdom. But that does not mean the work is done.

A difficult report card is not a verdict; it is a clarion call. It is a message to parents that something in their child’s school experience is not working, and may even be painful.

Rabbi Shimon Russell has spoken powerfully about what he calls school-based trauma: the slow, cumulative harm that can develop when a child repeatedly experiences failure, shame, or inadequacy in an academic setting. Being asked to perform year after year, only to fall short, can be deeply wounding. Those experiences don’t simply disappear; they often follow a child well into adulthood. This kind of trauma is real. And it can lead to lasting emotional and functional challenges if not addressed thoughtfully.

So if you decide that your child should not see a painful report card, that may indeed be the right choice. But it does not mean you look away. It means the real work now begins, engaging with the school, consulting with educators or professionals, and rethinking the environment so that your child can experience competence, dignity, and success. Shielding a child from shame is not the same as ignoring the problem. Sometimes, it is the first step toward healing it.

Rabbi Yerachmiel Garfield is the Head of School at Yeshiva Toras Emes of Houston, and the director of the Yeshiva Leadership Group.

Rabbi Ari Schonfeld

Does that snapshot of a poor grade in havanah of Gemara really encapsulate how he’s currently doing? Of course not. It’s a shallow and hollow way of trying to define his success in yeshivah.

W

hile answering the question about your daughter, allow me to share a pet peeve of mine. The entire report card system, in my opinion, needs a complete overhaul. For two reasons, at least.

First, it used to be that report cards were the main way schools would communicate with parents about their child’s year. It was generally how parents found out how their child was doing. Today, this is no longer the case. Any decent rebbi or morah is in constant contact with the parents. You don’t need a report card to tell you how your daughter is faring in Chumash or kriah. You’ve already talked to the rebbi about your son’s challenges with complex sugyos in Gemara and are working on ways to help him. And quite possibly, as a matter of fact, over the past few weeks, since coming up with a plan with his rebbi, your son’s grades and skills have improved dramatically.

Do we really need a report card to give your daughter a B-minus in kriah? Does that snapshot of a poor grade in havanah of Gemara really encapsulate how he’s currently doing? Of course not. It’s a shallow and hollow way of trying to define his success in yeshivah.

Second, we certainly recognize the value of academic standards, and most schools strive to create an atmosphere where excellence is celebrated. But does an 11-year-old girl, who is absolutely awesome in every aspect except for her inability to master fractions and spelling, need to be defined and pigeonholed by three bad marks on her report card? She knows she struggles. You know she struggles. The bill for the nightly tutors can attest to that. She needs to receive a “shtar rayah” to that as well?

Back to the question. Your daughter is “savvy and geshikt, just not so academically inclined.” I’m sure she knows her grades won’t be top of the class. I would simply downplay the whole importance of report cards with her. Is she working hard? Doing her best? If the answer is yes, I wouldn’t go out of my way to throw out the report card before she gets home, but simply to make light of its importance. If the answer is no, I would hope you have been having conversations with her over the course of the school year about ways to improve.

Mechanchim and mechanchos today speak with pride of the many strides we have made in recognizing the talents and celebrating the wonderful traits of each and every child. In my humble opinion, our current report card system falls feebly short of this ideal.

Yes, we need records for when a student transfers or for high school applications. But there has to be a better way. I’ve told my rebbeim and teachers that I plan on reimagining the report card system in our yeshivah. I will report back when I’ve completed my task. I hope I can get at least an A-minus.

Rabbi Ari Schonfeld is the menahel of Yeshiva Ketana of Manhattan and Rosh Mosad of Bais Tzipra of Manhattan, and director of Camp Aish.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1095)