The Questions
Though I never wrote down an official question to answer with this grand experiment, I believe that what I have been seeking to answer in my classroom this year is, "How can a teacher reignite the spark for learning that all little kids possess, but dims or is snuffed out when they enter school?"
I have been operating under the assumption that this is not only possible, but essential in order to build success in students that struggled through most or all of their education so far. Though I never even approached the ballpark of being a scientist or psychologist, I can see two things clearly:
1) All kids possess an unbelievable sense of awe, wonder, and amazement of the world around them. (If you have kids, you know this to be true. If you do not have kids, find a 3-5 year old and count the number of questions they ask in an hour and you will be a believer.)
2) Students lose all or most of it sometime when they are in school.
I absolutely believe both of these statements to be true for the vast majority of students. In theory, school should be the greatest place on earth for kids. They get to be with or around their friends all day, get all their questions answered, and get exposed to exciting new topics or activities that will create room for more questions.
Sadly, however, the opposite is most often the case.
Why?
When does this actually happen?
Again, I am no scientist, psychologist, or pediatrician, but is there something in our biology that causes us to enter the "School Stinks" phase of our life? Is it developmental? Social? What?!
Or is it what we are doing?
Or not doing?
Or both?
The Rant
Lately I find that my attention has shifted from how to repair the damage, to why it occurred in the first place. Perhaps that is why my frustration level is so high right now.
I remember sitting in a philosophy class in college and my professor had us look out the window to where a giant maple tree was beginning its dramatic transformation from green to gold. He said that as long as we view it as a resource to consume, rather than something to enjoy and appreciate simply for its beauty, we will never solve the growing climate crisis.
I believe our students are the same. I believe there has been an increase in us seeing them first for what they can deliver for us, rather than the beauty of who they are. They become numbers, test scores, percentages to prove a teacher's effectiveness. Data points for Annual Yearly Progress.
Data.
As a result, what is best for students can often take a back seat to what is best for test scores, schedules, and comfort levels. What is easy takes the place of what is best.
My heart is sad when I reread that line, consider deleting it, then keep it because I believe it is true.
I believe that there are teachers out there that fight desperately against this mentality, and I am proud to say that I had some of them when I was a student, and work with some others now that I am a teacher. I believe that there are teachers out there that want to fight the mentality, but for a variety of reasons, are unable to do so in their classroom. Sadly, I believe that there are even some teachers out there that not only do not fight, but perpetuate that mentality.
I have seen the damage that this mentality of "Easy Instead Of Best" can do to students.
I am deeply saddened, frustrated, and outraged.
I am also, however, motivated to play my small part in the healing process.
The Path
I am currently reading Natural Beekeeping: Organic approaches to modern apiculture, by Ross Conrad. His words in the first paragraph stopped me in my tracks:
"Unless it feels threatened and is forced to defend itself or its hive, the bee is the only creature in the animal kingdom, that I am aware of, that does not kill or injure any other being as it goes through its regular life cycle...In fact, honeybees take what they need in such a way that the world around them is improved."
I not only found another wonderful reason to enjoy and appreciate beekeeping, but I saw a connection with my classroom.
The bees' very nature is to live in such a way that they not only do no harm to another living organism, but they improve the world around them.
Could I choose a path in teaching that would mirror this? To not only do no harm, but to teach in such a way that the students leave a better version of themselves.
Shouldn't this be the case for all of us in education? Shouldn't we be able to truly say that not only do we not diminish their sense of awe, wonder, and amazement, but we increase it exponentially?
I believe that we should.
Regardless of what legislation is or is not passed, regardless of what is happening in other classrooms, regardless of what is easiest for schedules and testing, regardless of what my budget is, regardless of what path others choose, I want to choose the path that leads to what is best for students.
I know that I stumble, I know that I fall, I know that I get distracted by shortcuts promising an easier journey. I know that I am not always the best version of who I can be. But I get up, brush myself off, and press on with the hope that I can somehow make a difference in the lives of my students.
Thank you Mr. Towne, Mr. Lewia, Mr. Ballou, and Mrs. Harvey, to name only a few, for choosing what was best for me over what was easiest for you.
Showing posts with label standardized testing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label standardized testing. Show all posts
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
An Open Letter to the Creators of Standardized Tests
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
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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