Defense of bad grades flunks the dad test

Iknow something’s up when my son walks in the door, plunks down his backpack and starts talking about the value of a well-rounded educational experience in which grades play only a small part.

“My biggest disappointment,” he says, “is that we continue to profile students based on a very limited set of metrics. I’m concerned about any score, but again, I look at it holistically.”

I fix my gaze on him. It takes me only a moment to make the connection.

“Say,” I inquire, “aren’t report cards coming out in two days?”

“Well, time to hit the books,” he abruptly declares, beating a hasty retreat to his bedroom.

Two days later, I have his report card in hand.

It isn’t good.

“Mind telling me what happened?” I ask him.

“Look, Dad,” he says, sitting down and folding his hands in his lap. “Any particular classroom is a unique collection of … students who come to the table with their own blessings and challenges. It’s misleading to look at the report card and jump to the conclusion

that, look, because a grade is low, there must be something wrong with the student.”

He has a straight face as he says this, which is impressive. I look at him, then down again at the report card.

“But it isn’t just one grade that’s low, kiddo,” I say. “I’m seeing D’s and F’s all over the place.”

As I say this, I’m reminded of a discussion we had last fall after another lackluster academic showing.

“While I welcome accountability,” my son said at the time, “a one-time assessment system with many different factors associated with it does not represent a true reflection of my grades and it does not define who I am.”

New year, same old story. He says, “We know there

is so much more to a child’s learning and growth than what is measured on these reports, which offer only a limited snapshot on a handful of indicators.”

I say, “You’re up a creek without a paddle. And your canoe is taking on water.” He plays his best hand. “What would you say,” he asks, “If I told you that everything I’ve said came directly from the mouths of Ohio’s school administrators regarding their district report cards?” “Everything?” I ask. “Pretty much,” he says. “I changed a few nouns and tweaked some verbs to fit my circumstance, but the gist of everything was theirs. The stuff about blessings and challenges was Paolo DeMaria, the state Education Department’s superintendent of public instruction. I read that quote in the Dayton Daily News.”

The kid is clever. I’ll give him that.

“Who said the bit about metrics, and looking at this holistically?”

“Dr. Good, superintendent of Columbus City Schools. He said it about districts, though, not students. That’s the only word I changed.”

“Nice touch, kid, but I would suggest that there is little to be gained in parroting the deflections of well-compensated superintendents as they try to spin their stateidentified shortcomings. My patience is threadbare. Get your grades up.”

“I am confident we can do it — I am very confident,” he says. “What we need to do now, more than ever, is go from ‘We can’ to ‘We must and we will.’”

That’s another administrator you’re quoting, isn’t it?”

“Eric Gordon, the CEO of Cleveland schools,” he says. “It’s verbatim.”

“Well, then,” I say, “to build off Mr. Gordon’s sentiment, I would remind you of the deal we have regarding your iPhone, Xbox and Nintendo Switch. Your mother and I can seize those, and if this substandard academic performance persists, we must and we will.

“In this house, there are consequences.”