I had been warned.
Every parent I knew who had gone before
me had cautioned about third grade.
That was the year their school-loving
children started getting belly aches and saying they'd rather sit in
the dark and listen to opera music than go to class.
“It's the tests,” they explained.
The state's English Language Arts and Math standardized tests got
them all nerved up.
The tests, which assess student
understanding of state-determined learning standards, are also used
by the federal government as part of its accountability system, the
No Child Left Behind Act of 2001.
Every fiber of my
don't-worry-about-the-recital-just-enjoy-the-dance being HATES the
idea that tests are served up as the main course for months in the
bakery that is school.
Yet, here we are, a dozen years later –
pressure is mounting, school funds are shrinking and it is test
companies that are by and large determining how student understanding
is evaluated.
It's enough to make anyone's stomach
twist into knots.
As the days draw closer to Ittybit's
first foray into the world of No. 2 pencils and perfectly filled-in
ovals, she started to complain of stress and worry.
Her homework started to include thick
packets of practice questions. Things, she said, her teacher didn't
have time to go over in class.
She was worried.
What if she did horribly? Would she be
demoted to the second grade? Would her teacher lose her job? Would
the principal shut down the school?
Tests nerve everyone up.
Yet, no matter how many times we told
her to relax, told her her score would neither affect her grade nor
jeopardize her standing as a third-grader heading for the promised
land of fourth grade, she was not convinced.
“This is all anyone cares about,”
she said. “All they do is talk about how we have to be ready for
the test.”
I shrug my shoulders and weigh my
options.
Do I tell her not to care about the
test?
It's true, I am unconcerned about the
results. In my mind, calculating achievement by standardized testing
is akin to trying to use a cookie-cutter to form teaspoon-dropped
cookies … one shouldn't expect uniform results. But that doesn't
mean I don't care.
Do I tell her she can refuse to take
the test?
According to grassroots groups and
postings showing up in social media networks, students can formally
refuse the tests, and schools can assess student abilities using
other classroom accomplishments. Her portfolio of work, the chapter
tests and periodic projects. But that the consequences to schools and
to the students are somewhat unclear.
“You have options,” I tell her.
“You don't need to take the tests. It's not the only way.”
She listens as I explain about what
happens if we formally refuse.
Ultimately, it's a choice that requires
some amount of civil disobedience.
But the idea of disobedience, civil or
otherwise, at this tender age horrifies her.
What would she do while her friends sat
at their desks, rat-tat-tatting their pencils and biting their nails
to the quick?
Nothing?
Totally unacceptable. “Totes” as
her prematurely tween self is wont to say.
She's not ready to take up this fight.
Not this way, at any rate.
She'll take the test and do her best
not to worry. Maybe when it's all over she'll write a strongly worded
letter that explains how the same recipe with different ingredients
isn't always palatable:
“I see it like trying to bake
chocolate chip cookies using a little of everything you have in
pantry,” she tells me with a grin. “Sure, you might end up with
bacon chip ginger snaps, but it doesn't necessarily mean you've
failed. It just means you may have to wait for the right person to
eat them ...
“Like dad.”
I smile.
“Has anyone ever told you that you
are a smart cookie?”
“Oh, totes … all the time.”
Links
Tests
http://www.nyssba.org/clientuploads/nyssba_pdf/OB-41513-NYSASA-Opt-Out.pdf
Detest
http://www.fairtest.org/get-involved/opting-out
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