A mother came to me today because she was concerned about her child's grades. "She works so hard for her 'A's', I hate to see her worried," she said. Then she asked me (at least three times) if her child would make an "A" in my class. How can I say "Yes, she will," or "No, forget it!"? I'm not doing this student's work. All I can do is teach and guide. I cannot force-feed learning. I'm tired of feeling guilty when a child doesn't do well. And yet, it is my fault.

"NO! A teacher admitting responsibility?" you gasp. Absolutely. I've been too easy, too chicken-hearted lenient with my students. We all have, and we've bred a generation of intravenous learners: "Stick me in the arm, and fill me with education" babies who wouldn't know a complex thought if it tap-danced across their faces.

These poor kids show up in first grade, and what do we do? Hand them a basal reader, pencil and worksheet. "Read the story . . . First you . . . Now you . . . " while we yawn our way through the lesson. So do they. Then it's comprehension time: "What color was the dog's tongue?" "What does 'worried' mean?" It's sickening, sad and scary. By second grade, they think that's reading! Check out an old McGuffey's Reader sometime. Today's sixth graders might struggle through the second reader, but understand it? No way! Why? "It's too ha-a-ard," just like every other thought-provoking assignment they've ever been given.

Why do we do this? What ever happened to expecting the best from our children? Self-fulfilling prophecy is more than a high-toned psychological term. It works! Yes, I know, we must worry about pressuring them too much, straining their delicate psyches. Fine. Review the past. Was the suicide rate higher when work was due on its due date? Did drug usage go through the roof during recitations in the old fashioned schools?

Why have we created schools where a nebulous letter is the end-all, the be-all? What have we given our kids? A healthy respect for standardized tests? Charter membership in Apathy/Procrastinators, USA? An overwhelming awe of the first five letters of the alphabet?

I leave it to you. I stood and skirted the issue of my student's grades with her mom, because I didn't realize what was happening. But now I've seen and here it is. Mom didn't care if her daughter learned The grade's the thing. Grades don't mean anything anymore. They're like the Federal Reserve -- meaningless paper no longer backed by gold. Yes, Mom, your baby can have her easy "A". Won't that look good on her report card? Have her count them up some day. Then have her list one original thought, one logical solution to a complex problem, one moment in school that challenged her to be her best for each "A".

(July 1989 LMNts was edited by Grace LeMonds. Denise is a former GT teacher presently incorporating Serendipity Pre-School.)