Test-Weary
Three of four days of standardized testing are completed. One more to go on Monday. The stress level is tremendous, and the relaxation afterward will be quite welcome. Day One, on Tuesday, was an ordeal of two parts of the Reading section, 1 hour and 45 minutes each. We didn't have lunch until nearly 2 p.m. I forgot to drink any water from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m., so I was truly exhausted by then! It took a while to catch up. I don't remember being this worn out by the test before, but then the stakes have risen each year.
The dreaded nclb monster, otherwise known as No Teacher Left Standing, latches onto your leg and pulls you sideways until you feel helplessly dragged from reality. Reality is a room full of hopeful faces, newly arrived from more than twenty countries. Reality is people who work extra hard and study hours on end to make it in this confusing country. Reality is knowing that they can read material at a first or second grade level and comprehend things that they have studied before. Then, you're standing over them with a thick booklet of questions in a strange language and demanding 1) that they be quiet while they search page after page of text for meaning, 2) that they make circles on a page, clear and dark, without any stray marks, to indicate their understanding of that text, and 3) that they finish quickly. You who have been their supportive, welcoming, smiling counselor through times of adjustment to this land of contrasts, are now a fire-breathing dragon who snaps and growls, continually presenting that crazy booklet and the corresponding circle-covered answer sheet. To what end? To help that child? To further his or her education? Not really. To keep your school from being taken over by the state. To prevent the retired teachers, otherwise known in this state as exemplary educators, from appearing daily on your hallway. To maintain funding. To satisfy some lawmaker somewhere.
And so, in a "catch-22", surreal way you give the test to people who don't understand the test so that those who interpret the test can be sure that you've given the test, the whole test, and nothing but the test, to anyone within range. You measure what they know by asking them questions in a language they don't know and then those who've measured tell the state that this teacher hasn't taught these students anything. What a concept!
It's enough to make a person want to laugh uncontrollably, just to keep from crying. What's really hilarious this year is that I get to "explain" the process to my co-worker, a new teacher whose never been through this lunacy before! We just roll our eyes and keep on going. Just another day spending your tax dollars! Ha! Ha! Ha!
And pretty soon these test takers will be out there, fixing your food, mowing your grass, driving cars and trucks around you, doing all kinds of things. They are very capable and bright, and THEY are the reason I keep going to the school building every day, NOT those funny people up in those offices who create the test, legislate who takes it, read the results, and then decide what kind of teacher I am (or my colleagues are) based on the results.
What's really amazing is that sometimes these kids DO make really good scores. In spite of the odds. And, in the long run, I'm glad they get the opportunity to show what they know. It's just tiring and seems to be pointless. Maybe it serves some purpose. It's hard to tell from here.
The dreaded nclb monster, otherwise known as No Teacher Left Standing, latches onto your leg and pulls you sideways until you feel helplessly dragged from reality. Reality is a room full of hopeful faces, newly arrived from more than twenty countries. Reality is people who work extra hard and study hours on end to make it in this confusing country. Reality is knowing that they can read material at a first or second grade level and comprehend things that they have studied before. Then, you're standing over them with a thick booklet of questions in a strange language and demanding 1) that they be quiet while they search page after page of text for meaning, 2) that they make circles on a page, clear and dark, without any stray marks, to indicate their understanding of that text, and 3) that they finish quickly. You who have been their supportive, welcoming, smiling counselor through times of adjustment to this land of contrasts, are now a fire-breathing dragon who snaps and growls, continually presenting that crazy booklet and the corresponding circle-covered answer sheet. To what end? To help that child? To further his or her education? Not really. To keep your school from being taken over by the state. To prevent the retired teachers, otherwise known in this state as exemplary educators, from appearing daily on your hallway. To maintain funding. To satisfy some lawmaker somewhere.
And so, in a "catch-22", surreal way you give the test to people who don't understand the test so that those who interpret the test can be sure that you've given the test, the whole test, and nothing but the test, to anyone within range. You measure what they know by asking them questions in a language they don't know and then those who've measured tell the state that this teacher hasn't taught these students anything. What a concept!
It's enough to make a person want to laugh uncontrollably, just to keep from crying. What's really hilarious this year is that I get to "explain" the process to my co-worker, a new teacher whose never been through this lunacy before! We just roll our eyes and keep on going. Just another day spending your tax dollars! Ha! Ha! Ha!
And pretty soon these test takers will be out there, fixing your food, mowing your grass, driving cars and trucks around you, doing all kinds of things. They are very capable and bright, and THEY are the reason I keep going to the school building every day, NOT those funny people up in those offices who create the test, legislate who takes it, read the results, and then decide what kind of teacher I am (or my colleagues are) based on the results.
What's really amazing is that sometimes these kids DO make really good scores. In spite of the odds. And, in the long run, I'm glad they get the opportunity to show what they know. It's just tiring and seems to be pointless. Maybe it serves some purpose. It's hard to tell from here.
posted by Mrs B at
6:52 PM
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