Can AI write your kid’s report card? Yes. Should it? Buckle up

Back when I was in elementary school, getting report cards was a whole big deal. The way it worked in our school was that on “report card day,” which was always on a Thursday, the principal made rounds from classroom to classroom to personally hand out report cards. We would fidget in our seats all morning, eyes peeled to the door, in either apprehension or anticipation of the big moment, depending whom you asked.

When the door finally squeaked open, our teacher stopped talking mid-sentence, and the air grew thick with tension. We rose from our seats with absolute deference. Our principal had the kind of presence that made you feel goose bumps, and as she launched into her report card speech, it became exceedingly difficult to breathe.

The speech was pretty much the same every time… how she barely glanced at our grades and it was only our effort, conduct, participation, and middos that mattered. She didn’t speak for long, but when you’re waiting for that envelope, every word felt like eternity.

At last, she would start calling out names, giving each student a penetrating stare along with her report card. Back at our desks, we would cower in our seats as we pulled that pale yellow card stock out of the envelope and opened it to discover how we’d fared.

Our eyes flew over the grades side (first, despite the principal’s warning), then flitted over the conduct and participation marks. There were the standard S’s on that side, sometimes with a plus, a minus, or a stomach-sinking dot. If you got an E, usually reserved only for the last term of the school year, there was just no way to conceal the pride from your face.

With that out of the way, we would turn over the report card to the back flap and hungrily read the comment our teacher had written.

Forget standardized testing. Forget college applications. That folded rectangle of academic mystery is where the true drama lives — and not just for kids. For parents, too. Because we don’t just want to know how our kids are doing in school. We want to know who they are in school. And that sacred intel comes in the form of The Comment.

Because that comment — that tiny paragraph summarizing an entire semester in three sentences and bearing a whopping six different synonyms for “responsible.” — held more weight than all the grades inside the report card. You read it once, twice, and again, both the written lines and the words between the lines, absorbing the significant analysis of all things You.

What is it about report card comments that hold so much meaning to students?

What is it about those same comments that keep teachers deliberating for hours, carefully selecting and editing words that will accurately reflect a student’s profile yet convey a positive message that will leave each student with a sense of pride?