Dear Sirs and or Madams,
It was standardized testing week last week at my school and I have become intimately familiar with your work. I read the instructions numerous times. I passed out and collected the testing materials along with all the scrap paper, though I understand you prefer the word "scratch." I lugged the box of materials into a secure location in our building any time I was not in the room. I assisted in locating where student and school names should be written. I answered questions about duration of time and number of questions.
So far, our relationship has been very one-sided. While I am becoming more familiar with your work, you do not yet know me. In fact, there is nothing in the Answer Booklet for my students to share with you who I am, so I am doubtful that you will ever know of my existence. Soon we will be packaging all of these pages of graphite-filled bubbles and constructed responses, and you will begin what I imagine to be the arduous task of scoring said responses.
As you open the neatly packed boxes containing what represents hours of hard work from the students at my school, I wish I could be there with you. If I could, I would point out the students that I have in class and tell you about them. I would say things like, "Man, he struggled on this test. But you should see this guy talk about WWII. He knows way more than me about all the battles and the weapons and the whole nine yards." As you continue to look through test packets I may see another name and mention that that student is living with five people in his house, none of whom are full-blood relatives, and that he shows more maturity when talking about the struggles with his dad than I have ever seen in a thirteen year old. I would mention another student that lights up any time we talk about creating something. I would talk about how another student hardly ever came to school before nine o'clock last year, but this year hasn't missed a second of school. I would tell you the story of the first time one of my students shared a "Brag" at our weekly class meeting and it was to share how proud she was of her writing, despite it being such a challenge for her to get her words on paper.
I would talk about what I have seen these students do when presented with a challenging task. I would talk about the way they have pulled together to help other students who are struggling in my class. I would talk about how they have learned to work together despite all their many differences. I would show pictures of them working with each other to form groups based on interests and abilities as they create a product that will guide their learning. I would tell you stories about how some of them never shared anything in class last year and how this year they are bursting to share what they know. I would show you drawings that they have done that really should be hanging in a museum somewhere. I would talk to you about the hope that I saw in their eyes as they presented their research on Project Based Learning.
I would share with you excerpts from parent emails saying how much of a change they have seen in their son this year and how he's happy and excited to come to school. I would tell you the story of the day that my students begged for more time to write. I would show you a picture of the girl who hated writing so much in the past but has absolutely fallen in love with blogging because there is a real audience to read her excellent writing. I would share with you some of the baggage that they carry that makes it a miracle that they are even present today. I would tell you about the looks on their faces when they get the results of your tests back and they can't help but let the scores determine their self-worth.
I would not do all this to bug you or annoy you. I just didn't see a place on any of the pages to share these things with you.
Most Sincerely Yours,
Matt Coleman
Former Test-Taker
Current Lover of All Things Relevant, Flexible, Engaging, and Authentic
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