The Meeting

Our kids took a new standardized test last year, theoretically based on Common Core standards.  (Actually based on Standards of Excellence, which are literally - in my subject at least - the Common Core with one word changed.)  The test itself is arguably better than the old one, because the kids have to actually write some of their answers rather than simply bubbling multiple choice answers.  There’s even an essay, which is a great leap forward in my opinion.  However, it’s a new test, and it’s not a particularly well-written test.  Their scores were terrible.

So yesterday before handing out scores, my administration gathered three hundred sixth through eighth graders in the cafeteria and proceeded to tell them how bad their scores were.  They said things like, “Other schools might tell you a two is passing.  A two is not passing.  If you got a two, you failed.”  And “You’ve got to stop playing.  We don’t have time to play here.”  And my personal favorite, “You all just need to work harder.”

I happen to know from firsthand experience just how soul crushing this is.  At a faculty meeting week before last, they told us about the kids’ scores and told us we had to try harder this year.  It’s funny…I actually try pretty hard every year.  It’s not like I had an epiphany: Oh, I have to try?  Sounds crazy, but I guess I’ll give it a shot next year.  No more coloring sheets for us!  The fact is, my kids are, for the most part, trying their damnedest.  And they’re still struggling.  Because they come in with huge deficits.  Because the test is poorly written.  Because we had no way to prepare them without knowing what to expect from the test.  Because they’re coming from traumatic home situations filled with abuse and uncertainty.  Because they still have trouble reading and writing English.  Very rarely is it because of a lack of effort.

My school, like all schools, is big on research-based strategies.  Anything we do with the kids, they want to see a study proving that it works.  And yet, like every school I’ve ever seen, they also try to use fear to motivate the kids to achieve on standardized tests…despite the fact that every bit of research I’ve seen tells us that’s pointless.  There are countless studies telling us that kids learn through play…so let’s tell them “playtime is over” and give them more testing drills!

I’m angry, in case you couldn’t tell.  The hallways were full of crying kids after we passed out scores.  Kids who now believe that there’s no point in trying, because they worked as hard as they possibly could and were still lectured about failure and told to “try harder.”  A couple of these crying kids had to be taken to the office during testing last year for panic attacks brought on by stress.  How much of that can they take before they give up entirely?

None of my kids were crying.  In fact, only a third of them got their scores yesterday.  That’s because I sat down with every kid to go over scores in every subject.  Our conversation went something like this.  “Okay, you did get a two in math, and that’s not great.  But look, you also did better than 74% of the kids who took the test!  It looks like you had trouble with ratios, equations, and geometry. So I’ll tell you what.  This year, let’s focus on fractions.  I bet if you get really great at fractions - don’t even worry about the rest of it - it’ll make all the other stuff easy enough that you’ll get at least a three.  So that’s the one thing I want you to put a little extra work into this year in math.  Ooh, look, a four in social studies!  Yay!”

Over the next few days, I’ll be meeting with every seventh grader at the school to discuss scores.  Every kid will have an action plan of three or fewer things to improve on.  Every kid will know the areas in which he or she did better than the state or the system average.  Every kid will have some cause for pride.  But I’ll be doing all this behind closed doors, because apparently the only message I’m supposed to give the kids is “You’re failing.  Try harder.”