Slice of Life is sponsored on Tuesdays by Two Writing Teachers. For the month of March we are posting a slice each day on our blog. Join in!
Today our
state testing begins. As I wrote about last year, I’ve stressed about these
tests less and less every year I have taught. I know I am blessed; I am in a
district that doesn’t stress about them. My administration doesn’t ask us to
teach to the test. They assume we will teach, as we know we should teach, and
the rest will take care of itself. As a result, I do very little “test prep.”
Instead of peppering it through the year, we look at it as a genre and I teach
it for one week. We put up passages under our document camera, read them
together, and discuss the questions. I share a lot of think alouds – explaining
how I would narrow the options down and come to my answer. We look at the
extended response for reading and talk about strategies for answering it. And
the kids always do well – exceptionally well – in discussion. Where the true
test lies is how they do on their own.
Each year I circle the room as they take the exam and come to the same conclusion – the reading tests (at least in the past) are not that difficult. I ask them to do more on a regular basis. So why doesn’t ever one of them get an “exceeds?” I think there are a variety of reasons. Some struggle with test anxiety. Some are very relaxed, but when faced with a question they don’t know, they just guess instead of using test-taking strategies. Some, in the past, have done poorly because they simply don’t care about the results. When I see a 0 for their writing portion on any test, I know that is because they did not even attempt to answer it. I have a handful that received a zero last year. When I asked them why, they shrugged and said they didn’t think it was a big deal.
And truly,
is it a big deal? I give three standardized tests over three days of a one hundred
and eighty day school year. That is about 2% of our year together. So what does
this test really measure? I’m not sure, but I know what it doesn’t measure.
Test
results don’t show readers-
Growing
each day.
Staying up
late to finish the last page.
Texting
friends,
Checking if
they had reached “that page.”
Readers who
profess to hate reading,
Laughing
out loud over Calamity Jack,
Reading
passages to anyone who will listen.
The results
also fail to find writers –
Pouring out
their souls,
Through
pens, markers, keys clicking.
Hearts
mending as the words and pictures slip out.
Writers
growing closer in a class community.
Whispers
of, “I didn’t know that about you,”
As they
move around the room reading slices.
Writers
trying new styles, being brave, being celebrated
In a class
of their peers.
And I know that I won’t see the true growth of my students.
The
character that has changed.
Kindness
growing in hearts.
Comments
held back,
Breathing
before talking,
Learning to
watch what they say.
It won’t
show the tears when they’ve messed up,
Because now
they know better.
The
apologies that come immediately,
Because
when you mess up, you own up.
The results
won’t show the leaders that have stepped forward,
How they’ve
learned to Be Brave.
How they’ve
grown,
Soaring to
the heavens.
And nowhere
on those results will you see the growth of the teacher.
What I’ve
learned from another year with students.
How my
heart is full to bursting,
The pride I
have for them flowing over,
Permeating
my entire being.
No, the
ISAT won’t measure that.
What is
measured will be reported back.
I will look
over the data.
Thinking of
what I could have taught differently.
Lamenting
the kids who struggled when I felt they would do well.
And
realizing that this is just a snapshot,
Just a
moment,
Of our year
together.
So I won’t
stress out about these tests.
I’ll
celebrate with my students the extra reading,
And writing,
Time we
will gain this week.
Squeeze a few conferences in.
Squeeze a few conferences in.
And be
ready to start anew when they’re done.
