One of my earlier recollections about school involved my brother, Ray. He was six years older than I and attended a parochial high school for boys. It was generally acknowledged that he was the “brains” of our family and, predictably, always received excellent grades. When his report came home, he would receive all A’s and I admired (and probably envied) his record.
One aspect of his report card caught my attention, however. The information was expressed on what was literally a card; not pages of information about the courses taken and descriptions of conduct or areas of improvement which would be typical of the more detailed academic information of the 21ST century. Instead, it was a simple document, printed on a 5×7” sized note card. Hence, the term, “report card.”
My brother’s “report card” was simple in format. His name was listed on the upper left corner of the card. Below his name, the courses he had taken were listed. His grades were shown next to the classes taken. Near the bottom of the card, there was always a single word or phrase written in by the school’s principal. While other students may have received a critical remark like “needs improvement” or a cautionary “on probation”, Ray’s descriptions were “splendid” or “excellent.”
But today’s newsletter is more than a reminiscence or an homage to my brother’s scholarship. It is about the single word printed in the upper right corner of the report card: “Demerit”
At that stage in my elementary education, I didn’t know what that word meant. My brother explained that it referred to some form of correction or disciplinary action. Being late for class, getting into a fight, or skipping would earn a given number of “demerits.” The bigger the number, inked in the upper right corner of the report card, the more negative behavior the student had exhibited during that grading period. Typical of my “straight arrow” brother, his “demerit” line showed “0”
After learning what a demerit was, I asked what I thought was a logical question: Where is the “Merit column?” I reasoned that, if a student had behaved in a way that deserved demerits, then there should be an equivalent acknowledgment for good behavior. It should be a “merit.”
My brother and father both chuckled at my silly question, but I contend that, even at an early stage in my life, I had landed on a good thought. Much of my religious education had focused on sin. Itaddressed evil and the resultant consequence of eternal damnation. It scared me and it worked..somewhat. It got me moving away from my demerits, but also cautioned me away from being “prideful”. That is: I shouldn’t be feeling good about my “merits.”
As a therapist today, much of my work involves helping people improve on their daily behavior, to move away from their actions that are harmful or self -defeating in some way. But increasingly, I turn our sessions away from what causes their problems (demerits?) to their sources of happiness (merits?)
In summary, I have come to believe that a balanced life involves recognizing and addressing both our merits and our demerit: our good dees as well as our transgressions
Celebrate your Merits and Fix your Demerits