Reporting on Reporting

Confessions, Corrections and Comments

Reflection
"Debbie has become rather silly."
So stated my Year 5 report. Up until then, my school reports had painted a picture of a quiet, shy girl. Apparently by ten, I’d “found my voice” — and a little more. I can laugh now, but I remember being utterly mortified at the time.

In all my years of teaching (and there have been many) I’ve never written anything quite so blunt about a child. Although, let’s be honest, I’ve been tempted - especially after a full moon or indoor lunch! But professionalism, compassion, and a healthy internal filter have always prevailed.

So why write about report writing now? Because, here in Australia, it’s report-writing season! That glorious time of year when teachers rediscover their passion for deep-cleaning the oven, reorganising the pantry, washing windows, and my personal favourite … baking. Anything to avoid staring at the blinking cursor of a blank report comment.

I've been in this game so long that my first reports were written by hand. One of my former students recently recalled with warmth her memories of being in my class and posted a photo of her handwritten Year 5 report comment from me — she’s now in her mid-30s. It was lovely to see that memory resurface (though I must confess, my handwriting definitely did not represent the quintessential school-teacher penmanship).

From the Parent Side of the Fence
With three kids of my own, I’ve read my fair share of reports — the good, the vague, and the baffling. My husband only ever wanted two things: a score or grade, and a rank - “Where do they sit in the class?” Me? I wanted to know who my children were as people within the classroom and school environment. Were they kind? Curious? Resilient? Did they help others? Did they try again after failing? And yes, of course, I wanted to know how they were going with their learning.

What I did NOT want was a list of activities. That drove me mad. You know, the comments like:
"Your child participated in writing activities where they produced a narrative and a persuasive piece. They collected data in maths and represented it in a bar graph."

So?!! Of all those things, where and what did they do well? Where do they need help? How can we, as a school-home partnership, support my treasure to grow?

One of my children’s teachers used to copy the student’s self-reflections directly into the reports. It created the illusion that she knew her students deeply — until my child let me in on the secret. You can imagine how well that went down!

From a Leadership Perspective
Now that I am in a leadership role, I read the reports teachers write about other people’s children. It’s time-consuming, yes, but I genuinely honour the effort teachers put in. I love reading about their “little people”, seeing the care they take in celebrating strengths and setting goals.

But here's a worrying observation...
The comments are starting to seem a little vanilla. And I say that as someone who has a fine appreciation for vanilla. It's a classic! But not every report should sound the same.

Back when I wrote reports, I was assiduously attentive to making each comment personal — a shared joke, a celebrated ‘aha’ moment, a piece of writing that impressed, an inspirational attitude. My husband (ever the pragmatist) would suggest a system: write three banks of comments for top, middle, and bottom, then copy and paste as befits the student. Efficient? Absolutely. But I just couldn’t do it.

Now I’m seeing those cookie-cutter comments — often with pronouns left unchanged. “He has done well… she has enjoyed...” I get it. Writing reports is a grind. After a long day of teaching and ticking boxes, it can feel like the last straw.

This year we even had an open conversation about AI. Is it a slippery slope or a helpful shortcut? Honestly, the number of AI and report-writing tools out there is overwhelming. I feel about them the same way I feel about clothes shopping — too many options and I’m out the door. Maybe other teachers are better navigators. If your school has found something that works, I’d love to know.

Supporting the Process (or Trying To)
I don’t ever remember anyone teaching me how to write a report. My first attempt came with equal parts trepidation and incredulity: Parents will be reading this?! From what our early-career teachers have shared with me, report writing (or communicating with families more broadly) isn’t something they were taught at university. - I’d love to look into this some more - a project for another day.

Whatever system a school uses, I believe it’s a curriculum leader’s responsibility to ensure that communication with families is clear, informative, and professional.

I’ve offered guides, templates, word banks, PD sessions, small group and one-on-one support. But it appeared that it still wasn’t quite enough as I was still reading comments with:

• Too much teacher jargon

• Overuse of "should" and "must"

• Comments that meander or waffle incoherently

• Goals that were, well … interesting - “Johnny’s goal is to wear his uniform with pride.” How? Patriotic music and a mirror?

Here in Australia, we’re guided by ACARA (the Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority). The Achievement Standards clearly describe the expected quality of learning students should demonstrate at each year level. Since these standards guide our teaching and assessment, it should make sense that they also inform how and what we report to families. We shouldn’t feel the pressure to invent language from scratch. The framework is already there. Using it thoughtfully and clearly can make our reports more consistent, accurate, and meaningful.

So, I asked myself: What did I miss? Was I actually teaching report writing? Explicitly? Thoroughly?

The answer: Not really. Well, not entirely. Why not?

Confession Time
I’ve always stood by the mantra: Reflective teachers are effective teachers. And I believe the same holds true for leaders — so lately, I’ve been reflecting on my processes for supporting report writing.

Yes, I’ve run staff meetings, provided templates and examples, answered questions, and uploaded guides to SharePoint. I’ve checked in. I’ve followed up. But I didn’t create time and space for practice or provide structured opportunities for feedback before the journey of writing began.

Why? If I’m honest, I worried it might come across as condescending. These are professionals. Most have written reports before. I didn’t want to insult their intelligence or imply they couldn’t do it.

The thing I should have remembered is that even experienced professionals benefit from clarity, modelling, and thoughtful feedback. In the classroom, we don’t withhold instruction just because a student has “seen it before.” We check for understanding, we scaffold, and we offer practice with feedback.

So why wasn’t I applying that to our staff?

I think I was still carrying the memory of a past experience — being asked to submit sample comments for “approval” without any clear criteria. It felt punitive rather than supportive. I didn’t want to be that kind of leader.

In trying to avoid that trap, I skipped something vital in explicit teaching – Checking for Understanding!

Next time, I’ll do things differently. Because if we want consistency and quality — and if we truly want to support teachers — we can’t just hand over the guides and hope for the best.

Recommendation:

So what might it look like next time?

I Do

• Model excellent and not-so-great comments.

• Think aloud while writing: “Notice how I start with a strength before introducing a goal…” and refer back to the report-writing guide.

We Do

1. Review examples. What works? What doesn’t? Provide samples for teachers to rate from excellent clarity with warmth to vague and cold - and provide reasoning for their rating.

2. Rewrite weak comments together. Explain the changes.

3. Practise writing comments using fictional student data.

4. Review and give feedback to colleagues using clear protocols.

You Do

• Give time — in staff meetings — for teachers to draft and refine with guidance.

I’m aware that some schools use A–E comment banks for each curriculum area. I can see how this might support novice teachers, promote consistency, and clarify expectations across staff. I haven’t worked in a school that uses this system, but I’m genuinely curious to know more about how this works in practice. How do families respond to identical wording across reports? I’ve also been part of a system of continuous reporting which then reduced the amount of written comments teachers were required to produce at the middle and end point of the school year.

I’d love to hear from teachers and leaders about what’s working well in your context and what you might rethink. Have you utilised AI or any of the ‘ready-made’ report comment banks? How did it go? For those in countries other than Australia - what are the report writing expectations and processes for your schools? Having worked briefly at a tertiary level, I’d also be very interested to know what tertiary support is being offered to pre-service teachers so that they enter the workforce confident in their ability to communicate with families? (see comment earlier)

A Final Anecdote
I know of a school where a new principal banned the word "show" in reports. Teachers were told to use “demonstrated,” “displayed,” or “exhibited.” Fine, except… he didn’t tell anyone until after the reports were submitted. With strict character limits, teachers spent hours rewriting. It did NOT go down well.

Moral of the story
If you're in leadership – be clear, explicit and kind. Communicate early and check in often.
If you’re a teacher - ask questions, be open-minded and seek feedback early and throughout.
If you’re training pre-service teachers (something I’m passionate about but did not have the scope to cover in this piece) - teach report writing like it matters. Because it does.

It matters for the families reading the reports.
For the children growing under our care.
And for the teachers, resisting the siren song of spontaneous banana bread baking.

Recipe

Continuing my Winter-Warmers Recipes …The classic Sticky Date Pudding is always a winner.