When clearing out my parents house recently, I came across of box of carefully selected school reports, which had been safely kept. I wondered what the reason for keeping them was, if my parents viewed them as their achievement? My parents had worked hard, done without and scraped together the money, to send us to private schools. Or was the reason, they wanted some validation of their own assessment of us? All these years later, my mother still thinks of my brother as intelligent and academic, I am not viewed as either despite my numerous qualifications and successes.

Anyway, I opened this Pandora’s box, releasing a torrent of emotions. The once pristine reports were dusty, and damp curled. At first, I didn’t recognise the person in my reports – a stranger and I felt very disconnected. But then memories came flooding back, and I was transported back to that time, and that person. 

Early reports were good and speak of working hard and doing well. It was a very happy time for me, and I thrived. Later ones were critical and judgemental, with no constructive suggestions and implied damnation. “She struggles with words”.  What did that mean? Was it that I didn’t understand what was said, or I didn’t articulate well, or with my mouth full of braces I couldn’t enunciate? Where was the helpful advice? This time was very unhappy time for me, on many levels. The school reports didn’t understand that my mental health was not good, and that the things I struggled with, were symptoms of deeper problems. The things described as bad habits, needed support, and advice not condemnation.

I got despondent, as I felt that the negative judgements were right. But my husband reminded of Sir John Gurdon who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Medicine.

Gurdon attended Eton College where he ranked last out of the 250 boys in his year group at biology, and was in the bottom set in every other science subject. A schoolmaster wrote a report stating, "I believe he has ideas about becoming a scientist; on his present showing this is quite ridiculous.”

https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/medicine/2012/gurdon/biographical/

So, I happily reframed the memories, gave myself some compassion and a stern talking to. Then I ritualistically burned all the reports.

Daisy

A Moodscope member