By Tom
White
It's over. My students have prepared for and taken the 2013 fourth
grade Measurement of Student Progress. It's now behind us. Let me offer a few
observations and reflections, based solely on my students' experiences:
-The adults seemed a lot more anxious and stressed out than the
students. Maybe it's because they were so well-prepared. Or maybe because their
evaluations aren't riding on the results. Or maybe it's because they're just
kids and they haven't learned to take everything seriously yet. Whatever the
reason, my students simply came in, sat down, listened to the directions, did
the work and read quietly until everyone was done.
-For some reason the narrative writing prompt was the same as one
of the released prompts from a few years ago. That was weird. In a good way, at
least for my students, since we used it as a practice exercise a few days
earlier. I'm not sure if the test writers goofed up or just ran out of ideas.
-Watching kids take an hour-long test is really boring. I'm used
to being incredibly busy for seven hours straight when I'm at work. Boredom is
something I only dream about, but when it finally came, it was horrible.
-I find it insulting that teachers aren't allowed to look at
student tests to see how they did. There's a lot of useful information in there.
I have no intention of changing any answers; I just want to see what the
answers are.
-While reading the directions for the math test, I noticed that it
listed protractors among the approved, supplemental materials. I stopped the
proceedings and sent someone down to the office to get a class set of
protractors. I didn't see anyone using their protractor for any constructive
purpose, and after the test, I asked my students if they actually needed them.
They didn't. Well played, OSPI; well played.
-And finally, this: Like most schools, we did everything we could
to maximize our students' testing performance. We rearranged schedules to
provide for long, uninterrupted blocks of time, we sent home letters to the
parents, asking them to make sure their kids got plenty of sleep, exercise and
nutritious food. We provided snacks during the tests, to make sure they weren't
hungry. We even ensured that there were no intercom or phone calls in the rooms
where kids were testing.
We did it all.
Which made me wonder: why don't we take learning as seriously as
we take testing? Why don't we make sure our kids are rested and well fed when
they're learning? Why don't we post signs on the doors saying, "Quiet!
Learning in progress!" Why don't we make sure kids aren't having recess
right outside the windows when we're teaching? And why don't we make sure
phones and intercoms don't interrupt our lessons?
I have no idea.
And why are language arts teachers responsible for THREE tests? If you are a secondary language arts teacher, you get your students for as many minutes a day as the math teacher, but the math teacher is responsible for a child’s performance on one math test. LA teachers are responsible for two days of writing and one of reading. It’s absurd.
I’m okay with how seriously we take tests. A job interview, a race, asking someone to marry you, running for office or hosting a big event are all occasions where we set impulses aside and focus on doing better than we normally do. I’m okay with students learning that a test of any sort is a time to really focus, get serious, and take a few extra steps to perform as well as possible.
Your last point is such a good one–we go to such great lengths to make sure that testing is not interrupted in any way and students are provided with adequate food–why not the same accommodations for learning?
Good points, Tom. Why indeed? Very similar to our experience, except that someone at our school was designated “testing coordinator” and she got boxes of all of the required materials together for us. The kids didn’t use any of it, since the online tools were provided. The writing tests were torture, especially the expository. My group enjoyed writing a story on narrative day, but it took them ALL DAY. ALL DAY. Think about that. This is not a good assessment. Ten-year-olds are not meant to write all day. It kills me, too, that I’ve seen MUCH better expository writing than most of mine came up with for writing about why X is their favorite season. Seriously boring topic for most of them, and did not inspire their best efforts. But that score will guide lots of decisions next year.