Testing

One of my favorite edubloggers is Patrick Higgins---who writes over at Chalkdust 101.  Earlier this summer, Patrick described a new course that he's helping to develop for the middle school where he works. 

While describing the strengths of a set of standards that defined the work of a school he'd once been a part of---and connecting that experience to his work in his current position----Patrick wrote:

Designing this class forced me to think back to the most effective of
those standards, and by far it was connections, and the name for the
class was born. In light of reading Siemens post, and in conversations
with the teachers of the class, I can see that the term fits. We need
students to create links, both mentally and digitally, from what they
know already, to what they are trying to know. We are stressing
“cognitive leaps” and learning by doing as often as we can, but there
are inherent problems with that.

Patrick's emphasis on the idea of making connections and cognitive leaps in classrooms rang true for me.  Connections are easily the most valuable learning experiences in my own growth---and something I work to make real for my students every day. 

Here's the comment that I left for Patrick:

Patrick wrote:
We need students to create links, both mentally and digitally, from
what they know already, to what they are trying to know. We are
stressing “cognitive leaps” and learning by doing as often as we can,
but there are inherent problems with that.

Oh man, Pat—All I can say is every time I read about the courses
that you’re helping to design, I end up more and more jealous of what
you’re getting to do!

This statement was absolutely brilliant—stressing the cognitive
leaps and connections that students must make between content and ideas
is nothing short of best practice and pedagogy.

I know that my mental work is always the most energizing when I can
find links between topics of interest to me—and I also know that those
links leave me better prepared to function in a world where overlap and
“tweeners” are the most successful employees.

Doesn’t Pink talk about this in A Whole New Mind? 

Here’s a quote:

“While detailed knowledge of a single area once guaranteed success,
today the top rewards go to those who can operate with equal aplomb in
starkly different realms. I call these people “boundary crossers.” They
develop expertise in multiple spheres, they speak in different
languages, and they find joy in the rich variety of human experience.
They live multi lives—because that’s more interesting, and nowadays
more effective.” (Kindle Location 1692)

So my question becomes what do you do if your courses—which are
unarguably well designed and reflective of the kind of work that should
be done to prepare kids for tomorrow—don’t produce immediate results on
standardized tests?

Will your school leadership rethink their decision to move in a progressive direction?

Either way, I’m enjoying watching your progress…
Bill

What would your answer be to my critical question?  Would your school leadership support progressive moves in the kinds of learning experiences that you give to your students if there were not clear evidence that those moves had a direct impact on standardized test scores? 

Has your work been limited because of our overemphasis on testing as an indicator of effectiveness?

(Image credit:  Chained by Lall, licensed Creative Commons:  Attribution)

A few months back, I was tagged by Patrick Higgins to write an entry for the "This I Believe" meme series that has been making its way around the blogosphere.  In response, I churned out this fun piece on how educators can learn a ton about teaching and learning from attending middle school dances!

As often happens in the meme world, I've been tagged again----This time by one of my favorite Twits, Kevin Jarrett over at NCS Tech.  Kevin's a brilliant blogger who shares pretty remarkable resources all the time.  What's more, I just plain loved his This I Believe meme because it emphasized the importance of teachers taking responsibility for results---a strand that has been running through my mind lately.

Having enjoyed the opportunity to write a This I Believe meme the first time, I figured I'd give it another whirl.  Only this time around, I figured I'd write about standardized testing.  It's perfect timing for me, considering we just finished giving our exams this week:

Administering an end of grade standardized test could be one of the single most boring acts in the life of a classroom teacher.  Passing out dozens of Number 2 pencils, instructing students in the finer points of bubbling multiple choice answer sheets, reading scripted directions from an 88-page manual and doing my best not to nod off, I waded into the testing haze once again this week.

Having taught for fifteen years, this annual tradition is really no surprise to me.  In fact, testing is something that I've often defended despite my own misgivings because it is a tool for measurement that has been embraced by the general public----and the general public pays my salary!

But this year's testing was different.  I'm not sure why, but halfway through Wednesday's reading exam, I found myself quietly crying.

You see, I was looking out over a classroom of kids that I know as beautifully complex creatures.  They're inquisitive and curious, embracing challenging questions about the inherent justice and injustice in the world.  They've wrestled with the idea of standing up to power and tried to explain the origins of hate.  They've had their thinking challenged and challenged the thinking of others time and again over the past 180 days.

They've explored music and art, seeing beauty and understanding the importance of design.  They're humorous---and they tend to find joy even in the most challenging circumstances.  Almost all have personal passions, developing levels of mastery in areas ranging from dirt biking and skateboarding to writing and dance. They've shown compassion, demonstrated respect, and developed an attitude of exploration.

Each is learning about  himself, his friends and our world every day. 

But in the end, none of that "growth" will matter.  Instead, my students---and your children---will be defined by one mystical number generated from a collection of answers on one multiple choice exam given on one day in June.

As I tried to gather myself in the back of the room, I wondered what the consequences of our commitment to rigid promotion standards based on standardized exams will be.  Will schools push right-brained activities further into the background in a short-sighted sprint to "measurable glory?"  Have other teachers been forced to compromise what they know about the kids in their class in an attempt to simply make the grade?

How many students will see themselves as failures because their "results" don't "meet or exceed expectations?"  Are we sure that an unbending emphasis on the skills measured by multiple choice tests will bring our children success in a poorly defined future----and what are the consequences if we are wrong?

"This isn't an issue you can fix today," I whispered to myself before returning to the mechanical directions and procedures of exam day, "But someone has to rethink testing

This I believe."

  Now, for a bit of tagging.  I'd love to see "This, I Believe" pieces from:

John Holland at Circle Time:  Lead from the Start

Ariel Sacks at On the Shoulders of Giants

Any of the Brilliant Folks at In Practice

Here are the directions for this meme:

Barry Bachenheimer started this on a whim today, and tagged me with it to get it going. Most memes have very definitive rules for passing along or posting certain material, but Barry has given this one some really free “legs.” It’s description is simple:

National Public Radio does a piece called “This We Believe” where individuals share essays they have written that enumerates their philosophies. With this concept in mind in terms of curriculum ideas, (with apologies to the National Middle School Association and National Public Radio), “This I Believe."

(Image credit:  I Can't Choose by Rusty Buckets, licensed Creative Commons:  Attribution)

Regular Radical Reader Nate Barton over at A Drop of Reason pointed me to this YouTube video created by a North Carolina special education teacher who is protesting the inhumanity of standardized testing for children with serious learning disabilities today:

Even as teachers like these are lauded as heroes by equally passionate peers, I'm just not sure how to feel about these kinds of "statements" by teachers.  (Nate would argue that I'm a bit too tempered for my own good!)

Beyond the conversation we could have about the increasingly participatory nature of media or the importance of modeling conflict resolution for our students, my biggest worry is that messages like these cheapen teachers in the eyes of the general public even though they have great resonance.  Heck, ask any special educator that you know and they'll tell you that requiring children with disabilities to meet standards they can't reach destroys their humanity.

Ask any legislator or business leader in North Carolina if they'll hear that message through the thick layers of sarcasm in this video and the answer is likely to be a resounding no. 

And that's a lost opportunity.       

I think that teachers often miss the PR value in addressing legitimate concerns in a professional manner.  Instead of becoming articulate advocates for positive change, we uncork with screeds, respond in anger, or talk down to our listeners.

That tendency turns decision makers against us.  I'll never forget sitting in a teacher leadership seminar with a group of influential policy wonks once and being shocked as they described their complete disdain for having conversations with practitioners. 

"Are you kidding?" I asked.  "After all, everyone loves teachers, right?  Besides, isn't first hand classroom experience essential to making good decisions?"

"Wrong," argued one participant.  "As soon as I see a teacher coming, I groan because I know I'm going to get the BMW."  To her, teachers were defined in degrees of moaning and whining.  The longer they went on, the less likely she was to ever want to invite them back----and rarely did she ever want to invite anyone back! 

I guess what I'm saying is that I've worked incredibly hard to break down these kinds of negative stereotypes about teachers.  When a challenge is facing those who set policy and drive the decisions in our buildings, I want them to believe that educators can play a meaningful role in developing solutions---and I think that gets less likely every time a teacher forgets to check his frustration at the door. 

Pushback?

Saint Carl and his act of civil disobedience is still roiling through my mind---and it's generated a bit of conversation in the comment section of my recent post arguing that to follow Carl's lead and walk out on standardized tests is an arrogant action that dismisses the broader perspectives of the communities that we serve. 

Perhaps the most interesting comment comes from Nate, who seemed a bit frustrated with my writing when he wrote:

Bill-
I have come to understand that you truly are a tempered radical. I would like to recommend that you peruse the following book by Ken Robinson: Out of our Minds. This book was originally published in 2001 and I believe that it illustrates the fierce urgency of now. I don't know that I would agree with Chew's take on affecting change, but I do believe that change will most likely not come from within the current system.

One of the things that I found interesting in Nate's comments was the sense of disappointment that I wasn't advocating wholesale action on the part of teachers to stand up to "the current system"---which he obviously believes is behind all of America's failures.

Nate's opinions seem to represent the general thinking of most teachers towards education.  We constantly talk about "the system" as some nebulous, dark entity that is manipulating schools from behind a dark curtain somewhere.  Most of the time, we figure that ol' Madge Spellings and W are hidden behind that curtain pulling the strings of the marionet, too.   

What we fail to realize is that "the system" is really network of people that includes parents, business leaders, teachers, community advocates, retirees---all of whom have equal opportunity to select leaders that have clearly delinated plans for education.  Even if Nate's right (And who can't envision a legion of W's henchmen manipulating public will.  Dick Cheney would make a great Sith Lord, after all), to overlook the fact that these leaders----and the entire legislative branch of the federal government---were selected by the general public is supremely arrogant.

While I don't currently agree with the choices that are being made by "the system" (my definition), I'm open to the idea that I am only one small part of that group decision making process----and I respect "the system" (my definition) enough to consider that their perspectives should be valued and considered. 

If "the system" (my definition) decided that the ideas of the current "administration" (another nebulous term that often incorrectly leaves out the hundreds of Senators and Representatives that vote on educational items too) are worth pursuing, shouldn't we at least consider the possibility that testing should play a role in educating our children?

Doesn't considering "the system" (Nate's definition) as a manipulative group of black hats with bad intentions suggest that voters and community leaders are woefully under-informed and completely incompetent?

I suspect that at least some of Nate's dismissive scorn (He wrote: I have come to understand that you truly are a tempered radical.)---which are thrown in  my direction every time I question stagnancy in our profession----comes from the fact that I'm willing to argue that teachers might just be wrong every now and then. 

There seems to be this unwritten rule in conversations between educators that teachers are automatically right in conversations about kids.  If we feel strongly about something, then it must be so.  As a result, we end up speaking in what David Jakes once described as an echo chamber.  Group think becomes truth and we fail to grow as a profession. 

And we end up looking like the same stubborn clods that we accuse "the system" (Nate's definition) of being!

In some ways, Nate, the most radical writing I do comes when I push our profession to think about the flaws in our own positions---which includes the assumption that teachers automatically "know more" about kids than the communities that we serve.

(Image credit: Evil monkey from the movie about the evil monkey that smiles awkwardly by Scragz, licensed Creative Commons:  Attribution)

I guess I'd be remiss if I didn't take a few minutes to write about Carl Chew, the Washington State middle school teacher who refused to give his state's standardized test and was suspended for his actions, right? 

After all, he's being touted (and touting himself, I might add) as education's very own Paul Revere.  Over the course of the past 12 hours, I've had no less than four different teachers declare that Chew is their hero.  "He's brave enough to take a stand," the story line goes, "And it's a stand that you aren't willing to take."

The way teachers talk, you'd think this guy was on the fast track to Sainthood or something.  Move over John Paul.  Chew's now first in line.  He worked miracles and we've got proof.

Can you tell that I'm not a member of the "Chew for President" Brigade?

And while my thinking is still incomplete on this one, here's where I currently stand:

I think that refusing to give the state test is a pretty arrogant and egocentric thing to do.  It seems to scream, "Testing is bad. My opinion is the only one that matters.  You can't possibly know as much as I do about what's right and what's wrong for kids----even if you have raised them since the day they were born.  I AM TEACHER, HEAR ME ROAR!"

The problem is that we're not independent agents who can make decisions divorced from the broader communities that we serve.  Taxpayers invest a heaping load of cash into public schools---which by default ought to give them a bit of say so over what happens in our buildings, don't you think?

Whether we like it or not, we're public employees----and public employees have a responsibility to work with, rather than against, the public's wishes.  In most places, elected officials determine the curriculum and elected officials determine the methods we use to assess that curriculum.  To willfully ignore the methods selected by elected officials essentially says that we don't respect the values of the communities that we serve. 

Don't get me wrong.  I'm no fan of testing at all.  Need proof?  Check out this post, written just two weeks ago.  In many ways, testing has destroyed what I do in my classroom each year, changed the dynamic of teaching and learning completely, and has done far more damage that it has done good. 

But it is a system selected and believed in by the people who pay my check.  And (in theory) it's based on the values and beliefs of a group of people that go far beyond me.  For those reasons, I choose to honor and respect the system even though I don't totally believe in it. 

That doesn't mean that I don't work to see the system changed.  As much as anyone, I work to make my thinking on testing transparent, knowing that I've got a credible perspective that can inform the conversation. 

The difference between my approach and bra-burners like Chew is that I am readily willing to admit that I only have one perspective on this issue, and while it's especially valid considering my proximity to the classroom and my first hand experience with the impact testing has had on teaching and learning, it's still only one perspective. 

Why can't teachers understand that the best decisions are those that are made when a variety of perspectives are considered and respected as plans are developed and implemented?  And why can't we believe that someone beyond us might just have something valuable to add to the conversation about our kids?

Eventually, I believe our community will come to consensus about what effective assessment looks like.  Chances are, that system will be more sophisticated than the test-driven system we're currently addicted to.  I guess my opinion comes from the belief that everyone---not just teachers---cares about what's good for our kids. 

And I believe that a system developed together breeds consensus---something sorely missing from conversations about education....and something made less likely when teachers like Chew show disregard for the values of the communities that they serve. 

Needless to say, I'm waiting to be torched. 

(Image Credit:  TM1 by Edouardo, licenced Creative Commons:  Attribution)

Anthony Cody

What does it mean to educate a child?

There has been much discussion about a recent study showing that drugs used to treat clogged arteries have a puzzling effect. People who take them lower their cholesterol levels – that all-important number is improved. We would expect that this lower cholesterol would result in better health, but the research has revealed that in spite of the better number, the arteries remain clogged, and the heart disease unimproved. Doctors are saying that we are "treating the number," rather than the actual illness, and what good is that? Parents and teachers are asking the same thing about standardized tests. For years we have been "treating the numbers," seeking to increase standardized test scores, assuming a solid connection exists between these scores and the educational health of our students.

     As an educator, I am committed to helping students learn more, and I hope their test scores reflect their growth over the year. In the coming weeks, students across the state will be bubbling in their tests, and much is riding on how well they do. But there are some new practices that have me wondering if rising scores really mean students are learning more. Some schools are using a technique called "backwards mapping." The staff at the school starts with a blueprint that reveals the questions likely to be on the test. Then the school year is mapped out, and likely test items clustered into sections, scheduled into the calendar for the year. Teachers at some schools are even told to define measurable objectives for every hour of instruction. The goal is that every instructional moment be geared to addressing things which will be tested, and often instruction is done in the style of the exam so that students become accustomed to choosing which of four options is correct on a multiple choice test, or responding to short writing prompts.

I spoke with an elementary teacher at one such school, which was recently recognized for improving their scores, and her experience is that these techniques have some pitfalls. She said that many of her fifth grade students have become disengaged by the relentless test preparation. Lessons focus on discrete skills in reading and math, and larger thematic units and hands-on investigations in science and social studies have been cut out, because they do not directly improve test scores. But these deeper projects give students a sense of accomplishment, allowing them to delve into a subject in depth, and exercise their talents in a wide variety of skills – developing their abilities in art, speaking, and critical thinking. Losing them is stealing much of the joy from our classrooms, for students and teachers alike.

The very idea that an educator would speak of joy in this era of high-stakes tests may seem frivolous, yet it is the joy that comes from original student accomplishments that drives learning in a successful classroom, and allows students to invest their hearts and minds in their own future.

We also have to ask ourselves what it means to properly educate a child.  Don’t we care that students have a basic scientific understanding of the world in which we live – and to experience doing their own investigations? Don’t we want our students to have an awareness of history and an ability to make sense of complex events? Don’t we want students who can express themselves through art and music? Many of our test-driven maps are leaving these valuable things behind.

We can’t blame teachers at these schools for this situation. The schools are under tremendous pressure. If test scores fail to rise, the schools can be closed, and teachers and administrators can lose their jobs. The real culprit is the whole system of high-stakes testing and the impossible mandates of No Child Left Behind.

Focusing all our energy on test preparation may boost scores, but actually diminish the quality of education in our schools, and be one reason as many as half of our students are dropping out -- and one in five teachers will leave the profession this year. In this case, as with the anti-cholesterol drugs, we need to look beyond the numbers to see if our students are getting the education they deserve. 

Anthony Cody

One of my favorite conservative bloggers is Matt Johnston, who writes over at Going to the Mat.  Matt tracked down my recent post on the impact that testing has had on teaching and learning in my classroom and asked the following question in the comment section:

Bill, I think your rant (well grounded as it is) raises a couple of very difficult questions. I will have to assume that all teachers of subjects on standardized tests have experienced the same frustration as you. That leads to the question, should teachers who teach in subjects tested on standardized tests (i.e. math, science, English, etc) be evaluated in terms of professional development and annual reviews differently than those who teach non-standadized tested subjects, art, music, social studies, etc. If so, how would that be done so that it is equitable? Could tested subject teachers be rewarded more for success? Should they be disadvantaged for lack of success (as defined by your students' peformance)? What impacts would you see for the recruitment/retention of teachers in both tracks?

Interesting questions, Matt---especially because they operate from the basic assumption that we've made the right decision by using standardized tests as an effective indicator of "success" and "failure" in schools.  While I think that you're right to assume that standardized tests are the "indicator du jour" for the forseeable future, I'm personally holding out hope that we'll become more sophisticated in our assessments of children in the upcoming decade. 

That being said, I think that teacher evaluation is completely ineffective as it currently exists for all teachers!  Administrators---who are often completely overworked and under prepared---are asked to provide "instructional leadership" to teachers who span incredibly diverse curricula and ability levels.  It's an impossible task, to say the least. 

The results:  No one is evaluated particularly well.

And that's actually quite shocking to me as an "insider."  Let me give you an example:  I'm a pretty reflective guy who has a solid understanding of what I do well and where I struggle.  My personal weakness as a classroom teacher is providing differentiation for students of different ability levels.  Considering how academically diverse our classrooms are becoming, that's a HUGE weakness.

But I'm not sure that any of my principals or supervisors have ever noticed that weakness.  Why?  Because they simply can't effectively judge my entire skill set in the two 20-minute observations that they do "on me" each year.  Instead, they typically come in my room, look to see if objectives are posted on the board, decide whether my instructional plans are appropriate for the grade level I'm teaching and then move on to another room. 

It has always been a surface-level evaluation of my performance at best---and in 15 years, no one has ever mentioned the lack of differentiation in my room.

Now, when it comes to evaluating tested v. untested teachers equitably, I'd argue that it'll never happen.  Tested teachers have numbers attached to their names---and right or wrong, we seem to put a lot of weight in those numbers.  In fact, I'd argue that most administrators tend to trust those numbers more than their own observations when determining who is an "effective teacher" and who is an "ineffective teacher." 

The numbers just seem so darn reliable, don't they?  After all, we live in a "data-driven world." 

But non-tested subjects will never have numbers attached to them.  Instead, their performance is always going to be judged by performances---How does the teacher look in action?  How do the students perform in the upcoming band concert?  How does the artwork look in the hallway?  How does the dance performance go off?

Don't get me wrong:  I truly believe that those kinds of assessments are more reliable---and more reflective of effective assessment.  When you can actually see a child applying skills from the standard course of study in performance based situations, you can truly begin to understand what they're capable of.  It's a more sophisticated measure of ability, don't you think? 

But those kinds of performance measures are never extended to teachers of tested subjects.  No one comes in my room and watches my students interact in meaningful conversations with one another.  No one ever sits down and challenges their thinking about a particular novel or piece of text to see if they can analyze an author's purpose or notice elements of bias. 

Instead, they count on the test to do those things---which I'd argue is simplistic at best. 

In many ways, this dichotomy between the ways we're willing to evaluate teachers of tested and untested subjects is almost ridiculous!  If a test is an effective method for judging English and math teachers, why haven't we developed standardized tests for dance and drama teachers too?  Why don't we have tests for the band teacher or the media specialist? 

And if we're willing to admit that testing in those areas is ineffective practice, then why aren't we willing to embrace the idea that testing in ALL areas is ineffective? 

As far as compensation goes, I am a firm believer that it is time for us to begin to reward teachers differently based on "performance."  Honestly, as a young-ish teacher who works 90 hours a week, I'm completely burned by the fact that I get paid based on years of experience only.  To know that there are teachers sprinting to the parking lot at 3:30 every day while I'll be plugging away until 7:30 or 8:30 is probably the biggest "hurt" there is in teaching. 

This recurrent pain is easily one of the biggest barriers to teacher recruitment and retention.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to encourage young teachers to stay in the classroom when they are making barely $30,000 a year---and when they know they'll get a 2% raise every year until they die regardless of how hard they work?  Worse yet, imgaine trying to stay positive when you know there are people in your building making twice as much as you are even though they make no meaningful contributions to teaching and learning.      

Where's the motivation to improve?!

Somewhere I read a statistic that the average young adult today will have held 13 jobs by the time they are 32.  That willingness to move flexibly between positions is a part of the professional fabric of today's worker---and it means that teaching has to change dramatically in order to compete for the best employees. 

New teachers aren't going to be as satisified with the "perks" that earlier generations embraced.  Tenure and job security mean nothing to today's employee.  Guaranteed raises over time and a "retirement" account don't either. 

What new teachers want is the chance to be rewarded for accomplished practice in the same ways that their peers will be rewarded in other professions.  The vision of the altruistic teacher who embraces the "I don't do it for the money" mantra is a thing of the past.  Today's teacher loves kids as much as their predecessor----but they expect to be paid for performance as well.

The never-ending barrier to this entire conversation, however, is that we have yet to effectively define what "accomplished performance" means.  Complicating matters is the fact that our nation is constantly changing the outcomes that they expect schools to produce.  Some people want higher test scores.  Others want improved graduation rates.  Still others want "kids of character" or "twenty-first century learners." 

Perhaps the first step in any attempt to establish alternative compensation packages for teachers should be a focused conversation about what exactly we want schools to produce.  Once we've got that vision established, we can start to "measure" the contributions of educational professionals and reward them appropriately.

My thinking in this post feels incomplete---but I'm due at the gym in 10 minutes for a workout.  I suppose I'll continue to polish this thinking in upcoming entries, but I'd be interested in hearing feedback from readers. 

Does anything I've written here make sense to anyone besides me!

 

   

Cranky Blogger Warning:  Be aware that this entry was written after a long and miserable week!  While its topic is timely and true, its tone may be as much a result of timing as of anything!

Easily the most interesting book on my reading list right now is titled The Whale Warriors. It documents the voyage of a group of environmentalists whose sole goal is to stop illegal whaling in the earth’s waters—even if it means sinking vessels by ram or by mine.

Crazy stuff, for sure.

While reading today, however, I discovered that commercial fishing is—in some bizarre fashion—a lot like schooling in America. Here’s how:

Every year long line and bottom trawling vessels decimate wide swaths of ocean in a hunt for target species. While it is true that thousands of feet of netting dragged through miles of open ocean is likely to result in large catches of species prized by consumers and fishermen alike, it is also true that those same nets trap thousands of pounds of unwanted fish as well. Consider this quote from Whale Warriors:

“Weighted nets are dragged in and the target species are thrown into the hold, while all the rest are chucked overboard, dead or dying. Wasted…Between the longlines and bottom trawlers, 7 million tons of thriving ocean life is tossed as bycatch annually. Hundreds of thousands of sea mammals—seals, dolphins, sea lions—are dumped…

Bottom trawling is like bulldozing the forest, killing everything in it, to get at the wild turkeys. That’s what it leaves, a smoking waste.”

Pretty graphic image, right?

This passage moved me because, in many ways, I think that our nation’s embrace of standardized testing has had the same impact on teaching and learning. We’ve stripped our classrooms of anything that doesn’t have a proven connection to increased scores. Art and music are thrown overboard, along with lessons that emphasize creativity, collaboration or innovation.

We don’t reward students who think differently.  Instead, we create instructional plans that produce the kinds of thinking that is tested.

And like long-lining and bottom trawling, we’ve had enough success with our approach to schooling that we’re willing to overlook the unintended costs of our actions. We seem to take a blind satisfaction in numbers. As passing rates and SAT scores rise, we are comforted by the belief that we’re doing the right thing and unaware of what we’ve lost along the way. “As long as our children are successful,” we say—forgetting that our vision of success has narrowed remarkably in the past two decades.

But I’m afraid that we’ve bulldozed the forest to get to the turkeys!  At the very least, I know that my work has been bulldozed. 

You see, I no longer drift very far from multiple choice questions at all.  Seminars---once a mainstay in my classroom because they encourage students to think creatively and to wrestle with deep ideas together---are now a twice-a-year event.  Why?  Because they take too long to teach, the skills required in a seminar are not tested (even though they are in my required curriculum), and I fall behind in our pacing guide. 

Almost every lesson begins and end with practice questions.  We have pretests for every practice test and then we debrief after taking tests, recording the kinds of questions we have to master before future tests.  I'd guess that my kids answer close to 200 multiple choice questions a month.

Seems like a drastic reaction, right? 

Not when you consider that--unlike the education professionals who work in non-tested subjects--I'm held accountable for one thing and one thing only:  the numbers my kids put up each year on end of grade exams.  While others are evaluated on slightly ridiculous, overly nebulous, warm and fuzzy difficult to measure contributions---like these "foundational common beliefs" set by the American Association of School Librarians  (I'll give you 10 bucks if you can effectively argue that "Reading is a Window to the World" is a standard while keeping a straight face.)---- I'm judged by how many kids choose the right answer on a multiple choice exam.

That dichotomy is destroying buildings.    Consider my fall:  Our reading scores came back and they weren't quite what everyone had expected.  In our "data debrief" meeting, my sixth grade LA team was called "decidedly average" in front of the entire faculty because our scores didn't meet expectations---Never mind the constant "we're all reading teachers" mantra making it's way through the edu-sphere.

That leaves me bitter towards colleagues beyond the tested classroom.  I resent that teaching has become automated in my room and feel a sense of regret over what I've lost because I know that I've got another benchmark to give in a week. 

While my peers beyond the classroom get to educate, I do little more than mechanically train my students to pass exams.  Much like the oceans, my work has simply been gutted.

I'm trying to take hope from the environmentalists who remain somewhat optimistic about our oceans, regardless of how dark the current situation may seem.  Consider this quote from The Whale Warriors:

“The good news is that half of the coral reefs are still in good shape and ten percent of the big fish remains. Sea turtles are not all gone, and some albatrosses still grace the skies above the world’s oceans. Best of all, people are becoming aware of the significance of the ocean to their health, their prosperity, their security and more importantly their survival.”

Like those that protect the oceans, I think people—particularly parents—are intensely aware of the significance of education to the health, prosperity, security and survival of their children. Never before have we lived in a time when a high quality education was as great a determinant in success as today. Quite simply, our children no longer compete with neighbors and friends for future employment—their competing in a borderless world with millions of driven children from around the globe.

That reality has forced us to be more sophisticated when judging quality—and to be more outspoken when we sense that something has gone awry. We’re beginning to question the merits of a system of education where creativity and a passion for discovery are replaced by test preparation. We’re learning—and beginning to actively redefine what successful students look like.

Perhaps resilience—paired with growing awareness and understanding—will inevitably lead to better public policies that balance the need to hold schools accountable with the desire to produce well-rounded students.

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