Tornado Alert!

I’ve been through so many drills—and emergencies—in my teaching career.

We’ve had multiple lockdowns. Once a neighbor’s bull got loose and rampaged through the playground. Once police called the school and said an armed suspect was in the area; they asked us to keep all the students inside. Once there was a chemical spill scare. The entire school spent the afternoon in the gym before a custodian figured out a delivery truck driver had parked with the exhaust pipe up against the school’s HVAC intake—and left the engine running.

We’ve had fire alarms result in the entire school outside for an hour or more, waiting for the fire department to clear the building.

Students get excited with these interruptions to their routines, but in short order they get bored with the restrictions to their activities.

As we practiced a lockdown drill for the first time, I answered a host of questions from my students. The idea of someone bringing a gun to school to shoot people was very concerning to them. “What if this happened?” they asked.  “What if this happened?” “What if this happened?” I told them that, as far as they were concerned, the answer was going to be the same no matter what scenario they might present. “Listen to me and follow my directions.” I gave them a couple of specific examples of what I would have them do, but it still came back to that—just listen and follow directions. They calmed down. They were ok with that.

Over the years, I’ve witnessed more dramatic events. A fire alarm went off. Heads snapped up. Then kids noticed the smoke pouring out of the multipurpose room across the courtyard from our class! I sent my students out to the gathering point while I went looking for the fire extinguisher. When I met up with my class later, they had followed the fire drill routine perfectly.

When the Nisqually earthquake struck, I’d just sent my class to recess. Some students were on the playground. Some were on the stairs leading to the playground. Some were in the halls. Some were in the bathrooms. Some were in my classroom. The earthquake roared in, the ground shook, the building swayed. And every student, no matter where they were, did exactly what they were supposed to do.

In every single emergency or drill that I’ve been through with a class, no matter how intense, the emotional response was the same. The students go on high alert. They might be concerned or nervous. But they look to the adults. They follow directions. The routines and practicing of drills gives them a framework for how to respond. They cope brilliantly.

After a major event, they chatter. Everyone has to share their personal experience—where they were, what they saw, how they felt. I let them all speak, let them come down off that emotional high. Then we go right back to a regular school day.

This week, though, was different. As we worked on math, there was the faint sound of sirens. Then a voice on the intercom said teachers were to keep all students in their classrooms. Shortly thereafter, sirens returned, louder. The voice on the intercom said everyone was to duck and cover. There was a tornado alert.

Testing is Inequitable, What Else is New?

Testing’s Back, Back Again 

Last year, when Washington decided to delay standardized testing, I was ecstatic. I wonder why we give students high stakes tests at all, let alone during a global pandemic. These tests’ measurement of student learning are suspect in the best of circumstances, so testing during a global pandemic seemed laughable. 

Plus, when we would have tested last spring, we were just starting hybrid learning and class time was a precious, rare commodity after a year of online learning. 

But, as promised, these tests came back with a vengeance this fall. As a part of my new part time role in the library, I was tasked with coordinating and administering these tests. I like a challenge, and I enjoy system level thinking, but as someone who fundamentally disagrees with high stakes tests as measurements of students’ ability, the irony was not lost on me. I felt like “the man.” 

To “make up” for last year, we ended up testing almost double what we’d normally do, taking care of delayed middle schoolers with our ninth graders and the skipped sophomores with our eleventh graders. 

To add insult to my personal injury, there are still graduation waivers in place (thankfully!), so these tests aren’t exactly necessary. At all. 

So when a student asked me “Is this graded? No? Oh, so, I could just click random buttons and get out of here?” it was hard to find a way to say something other than “Well, sort of. But still try your best. Please.” 

Inequities in our Systems

Because I have only administered tests in the past for my sophomore English students, coordinating across the whole school gave me real insights into the inequities baked into the tests themselves. 

For instance, most of the students who struggled even logging in were students of color. Several of our Black students have names with apostrophes or “non-standard” spacing and many of our Hispanic students have multiple first and last names. So, it became a guessing game to find which parts of their name the state recognizes as legitimate. 

One of these students with emerging English proficiency was doing his best to take three subject tests but the program didn’t even acknowledge his name. From step one, our “standardized” tests are telling them they don’t belong. 

Then, once we got the test rolling, the stress and utter bewilderment I saw, especially from students in IEP English and math, was heartbreaking.

One raised her hand and asked me, eyes wide, “What am I supposed to do? I have never seen this before and have no idea what to do. I haven’t been taught this.”

Students received the accommodations we’re legally required to give, but an “alternate testing space” is not going to make up for the content of the test themselves. That won’t alleviate the pressure they feel in a silent room, staring at a computer screen that is supposed to tell them how smart, or how behind they are compared to their peers.

Kindness Isn’t Enough

We have a lot of conversations in our building around equity and a lot of the pushback we regularly receive from staff is about kindness. Many believe that because they are kind to all their students, they don’t need to look at how racial, gender, sexuality, or ability identities impact their classrooms. 

Of course, kindness is an incredible value we should all practice. Our staff is loving and kind, but those traits alone can’t remedy the inequities in our system. 

Being kind does not increase the number of students of color who take AP courses.  Kindness does not diminish opportunity gaps that lead to graduation rates that are equitable across demographics.

My state testing experience this year has been illustrative of the need to use our equity lenses in every facet of our schools. 

One teacher can have an incredibly meaningful lesson plan, but what about the students across the hall, who aren’t in her class? If a student’s name isn’t recognized by a computer system, is it pronounced correctly by the adults in his life? Does that student in IEP math know what her strengths are and have hope for her future? 

Unless a mandatory, standardized test can do all those things, I’m not at all convinced we should use our precious time, resources, and brain power administering them. What if we channeled all of that energy into coming up with some sort of portfolio system to give the state and federal government its data? 

Even the inventor of standardized multiple choice tests, Frederick J Kelly said “These tests are too crude to be used and should be abandoned.”

Based on my experience this year, I wholeheartedly agree with him. 

How Are You Sleeping?

Every year, in one of my first class meetings, I ask my students, “How many of you have trouble sleeping?”

Every year nearly every hand goes up.

I explain that for Highly Capable students, that’s characteristic. For them, the overwhelming issue is that they have trouble turning off their brains.

That gets a positive response! Lots of vigorous nods and thumbs held way up.

“Me too,” I say. “So let me share some tips I’ve learned over the years to help with falling asleep.”

  • Follow the same routine every night.
  • No screen time for an hour before bed. That’s no phone, no tablet, no TV, no nothing.
  • A bath can help. “I like to take a book with me and read in the bathtub before I go to bed. That can help me relax and get me ready to fall asleep.”

  • “Some people suggest a glass of warm milk. Some people suggest a small serving of carbohydrates. If I’m having a hard time falling asleep, sometimes I get up and have a little bowl of cereal. That can help me.”

Eventually, I turn to the class and let them add their own suggestions:

  • I sleep better with my cat snuggled next to me. I responded, “If your parent lets you have one, a comfort animal can help.”
  • I sleep better with my stuffy. “You’re right. A stuffed animal can be a good substitute for a comfort animal.”
  • My parents give me gummies with something in them to help me sleep. “I’m going to guess that’s melatonin. The human brain naturally produces melatonin to help you sleep. Some people produce more than others.” Then I laugh. “My doctor says my brain hardly produces any. I hope your parents talked to your doctor about that. Doctors don’t just want to know about the medicines you take. They want to know about supplements too.”
  • I have an app on my phone that plays the sound of the ocean. That helps me sleep. “And there are lots of sounds to choose from. In addition to the sound of the ocean you can get the sound of rain or running water or calming music or even the sound of a fan.”
  • That’s what I do! I have a small fan by my computer. I turn it on, and it helps me sleep. “That’s called white noise. It helps drown out other sounds that might keep you awake.”
  • If I keep thinking of things I need to do, I get up and write them down. “Me too! Just writing them down let’s my brain know I don’t have to deal with them right now—at 2 in the morning. I will deal with them when I get up. It helps shut off that panicky voice in my head.”
  • I try to get all my homework done early so I’m not thinking about it. “Exactly! What a great idea!”

Your Turn: Back to School, 2021

By the end of summer this year, most parents were anxious to see schools open up full time for all students. This was not just a local concern, but a hot topic nationwide. On August 18, President Biden issued a memorandum: Ensuring a Safe Return to In-Person School for the Nation’s Children. This memorandum called for “full-time, in-person school for our nation’s  children.” 

Washington educators answered the call and returned to their classrooms last month with full class sizes and somewhat relaxed safety precautions. We asked the Stories from School bloggers about their thoughts on this return. How are we ensuring the safety of our students and ourselves? Read their thoughts below; then we would love to hear from you in the comments. What is your experience with this year’s back-to-school season?


Gretchen Kruden: Grateful for the Protocols and Support

Having had two beloveds (one vaccinated and one not) contract Covid this year, I have had a front seat to the turbulence Covid causes in a home. It was awful to have felt such wringing worry for days on end.

That said, I am so grateful our school is following masking and handwashing protocols to a tee. We are also on the spot with kids going home and staying home who have any symptoms of Covid until they test negative. In addition, we will be rolling out an onsite testing program to help ease the financial burden of driving the 50-mile round-trip to get a Covid test for our families. The only additional layer of protection I hope the state will provide is a mandate for health districts to enforce that has schools pivot to distance learning when a certain number of Covid cases/100,000 people are active in the area. 


Emma-Kate Schaake: We All Need to Do Our Part

I feel grateful to be a teacher in Washington. I am friends with teachers in other parts of the country where even the very baseline practice of masking is essentially nonexistent. We’ve already had at least five positive cases in our first eight days of school, so I can’t imagine living and teaching elsewhere. 

That being said, that doesn’t mean our community universally accepts these truths. One of our school board members actually ceded his time with a piece of duct tape over his mouth to protest the mask mandate. 

We’re all pandemic weary, but I’m well aware that it’s a gift to be back to in person learning. I don’t want anything to jeopardize our time together, so we all need to do our part.


Leann Schumacher: Physical Distance with First-graders?

To echo Emma-Kate’s feelings, I feel so fortunate to live in Washington state. It is horrifying that other parts of the country are penalizing schools for trying to keep their teachers and students safe. Truthfully, I was very nervous about starting this school year. The dread was definitely not as intense as Fall 2020, but the anxiety was still there. Working with first graders, it has been a struggle to keep my physical distance as much as I should be. The little ones need proximity for guidance not to mention they struggle to fully comprehend directions as they can’t see my mouth. 

The students themselves are struggling to keep 3 feet of distance and I often see masks below noses. However, in general, my district has good systems in place to help keep staff and students safe but this is far from “normal” and I wish that we would be more open to acknowledging and accepting that fact.


Lynne Olmos: It’s Not Yet Time for Back to Normal

It was a stressful reopening for us in Mossyrock. Our numbers of Covid cases in our area were steadily climbing, and our community has been largely anti-mask and anti-vaccine. There was even a protest across the street from the school on our first day.

It is a struggle to follow the safety precautions when our students and our parents often see us as part of a system that they neither trust nor respect. The very first week, our entire volleyball team was quarantined after a player came down with the virus. This was a stark reminder that we are not over this yet, and we need to be prepared for the same sort of measures that we had to put in place last year, such as the possibility of remote learning or reduced cohort sizes. I am glad to have all my students with me, but this is stressful! Everyone wants it to be “normal,” but it just isn’t, not yet.


Denisha: It’s Worth It to Be Back, Despite the Cost

Teaching remotely was difficult; coming back into the building has been even more challenging. That saying, “be careful what you wish for” is 2021-2022 in a nutshell.

It is nostalgic, saying good morning, having someone respond in real time! Even though I would never ask to be back online, I don’t know that after a year and a half we understood what being back in buildings really meant. 

Shorter attention spans (adults too), kindergarten, first, and second graders with almost zero experience of how to “do school.” First, second, and even third year teachers, still really first year teachers. Modified recess, mask breaks, homesickness, substitute shortages, extended absences, anxiety, and most of all fear.

The issue? Systems. Every neighboring district is doing this version of school differently, which leaves everyone wondering, who is doing it right? 

The tears and anguish displayed daily on both students and teachers would make you wonder, why not go back online? In-person is still the right choice, but the cost is great.


Jan Kragen: Despite the Protocols, Covid Strikes

I’m happy that all the staff at school is fully vaccinated. Of course, I work at an elementary school, so the kids aren’t vaccinated. Yet. 

Everyone is wearing masks, but mask-wearing ranges from kids who double mask to those who–in fifth grade–can’t seem to keep one mask over their nose all day despite multiple reminders.

Our desks are spread out. We use hand sanitizer frequently. There’s a protocol for bathroom use, and kids are spaced out at lunch time.

Still, on September 16 I left school feeling sick. The next week I tested positive for Covid. So did enough kids that my whole classroom went into 14 days of quarantine. I haven’t been back to school yet.

Thank God I had a substitute who was able to work ALL the days I was out and who had two daughters in my room in years past. When my lesson plans were sketchy at best, she was able to fill in the blanks.

I’m going to try to teach in the afternoons next week. Here’s hoping I don’t relapse. The truth is, until we can get the kids vaccinated too, all the best protocols really aren’t enough.


What about you, readers? How was the first month of school in your district? Please leave us your comments below.

Being There: Teaching 2021

In a time where every student needs a little more emotional support, we educators are uniquely qualified to fill that need. We are skilled in making the connections that keep kids curious, excited about the world around them, and engaged with their peers.

This is life-saving work these days.

Our children need schools to buoy them up in times of stress. They need to have hope and inspiration of the sort that teachers deal in on a daily basis, through literature, history, science… all areas of discovery and joyous participation. What a gift we teachers can give to the children in our classrooms!

And I see it every day. I see it in the lively classroom chats and the lessons that get kids thinking, talking, and laughing. I see it in the way our staff makes time for kids: a health teacher who gives up her lunch to chat with a shy student who needs a safe place to hang out; a math teacher who comes in early to help kids with homework; a paraprofessional who visits with junior high students in the hall about sports, fashion, celebrities, whatever interests them, even patiently listening to long-winded chats about Fortnite or TikTok celebrities!

Kids need this. After a year and a half of periodic isolation and loneliness, the students in our schools have the adults on high alert. We are vigilant. Are they eating? Do they seem too quiet? Have they stopped turning in work? Did they mention they were moving again? The worry is constant.

This is our most important job- being there for kids. It takes a lot of effort and energy to truly be there for kids, as an educator, a mentor, a caretaker and much more.

But, these days, do we have the time and energy to do that oh-so-important job well? I want to say yes. Yes, because it is important, that is what we will do. But, this is a complicated situation. Educators are feeling the strain. The entire system is strained.

The Absence of COVID-19

The Washington State Department of Health issued guidelines for the 2021-2022 school year in regard to how schools may best mitigate the spread of COVID-19 in their facilities.  This document seems to put a tidy bow on the layered measures school can and should take to ensure student health. And yet, the bow is quickly unraveling through no fault of anyone. 

The state has worked hard to help reduce the number of absences students incur due to COVID-19. This makes sense as absences rates correlate greatly with student success. There are no longer such stringent requirements regarding actions surrounding “close-contacts” and healthy students are able to return more quickly to school if they test negative for COVID-19 during an imposed quarantine time. Many schools are even taking advantage of the Learn to Return program offered that allows for schools themselves to do COVID-19 testing onsite. All of this may have worked beautifully if the Delta variant had not hit and changed the playing field.

Continue reading

Relationships First

I’m pretty tired of the term “unprecedented.” At this point, I think educators are just ready to expect the unexpected. Our amazing team of custodians has a saying to cope with each new challenge: “well, it’s normal for this year.” 

Unsurprisingly, there was a lot of uncertainty approaching this school year. How will our community respond to the mask and vaccine mandates? Can we continue to push forward our equity work amidst CRT controversy? What will we do about the inevitable positive cases? How will we sustain our personal mental health and energy in order to make this year a success?

Though we can’t have answers to those questions without living through them, there is one thing I was certain of starting the school year: relationships first. 

Steps Toward a Restorative Classroom 

I’ve heard that phrase “relationships first” in educational spaces so much it has almost become cliche. But, that doesn’t make it any less true, especially this year. During this pandemic (past and present), we know our students have experienced trauma, unsafe homes, isolation, and depression. We know they are coming to us carrying those burdens, and they’re doing their best to cope with omnipresent anxiety, on top of the “normal” stresses of being a teenager. 

This year, I really wanted to challenge myself to make my classroom as student focused as possible. I have always been interested in restorative practices and after I attended a zoom training with the International Institute of Restorative Practices last spring, I set a few goals for myself, starting with setting our classroom community from day one. 

Classroom Circles 

I’ve tried a few classroom circles in the past, but never with any sort of regularity or fidelity. So, this year, I decided to start every class with one. Every single class. Every single day. 

I was nervous the first time, but I was pleasantly surprised by how my students came along with me.  

I have my tables arranged so we can stand in a circle, facing one another, and we pass a little stuffed unicorn (because, why not?) The first time we go around, we say our names and answer the question, without explanation. Then, in round two, they have a chance to expand on their answer. I’ve found this gives students who might not have a quick answer time to think and they can also borrow from their peers if something they said resonates. Saying, “yeah, what Brayden said” is a sneaky clue that they’re practicing active listening and building connections with one another. 

It’s early, but so far, no one has refused to participate (though I did have a teacher anxiety dream where they all stormed out!). Sometimes, students say “I don’t know” and I make sure they know that’s okay. Not every question will resonate with every person, but I try to cover a wide range of interests. 

We then do one last whip around with a quick either/or question before settling back into our seats. 

I have questions ranging from the surface, but very controversial, pancakes or waffles to some that are slightly more revealing like “When you were little, what did you want to be when you grow up?” We’ve also done one word check-ins that can take the temperature of the room in seconds.  

It’s fascinating to watch their personalities come out, even in just the first few weeks. You can tell so much about them not just by what they answer, but how. Does this student give one word answers every time? Does that one want to take over conversation and share their life story? Some of the best answers come from an introverted student who takes us all by surprise with a perfectly insightful answer that makes us all laugh. 

As we start our first unit this week, I am also going to use these circles as a sort of anticipation guide, relating our questions to our content. 

So Far So Good 

I had my first observation of the year Monday morning and in his notes, my administrator highlighted how the classroom feels inclusive, energetic, and comfortable. I greeted students at the door to check in before class started, as I always do. And when the bell rang, they eagerly jumped into the circle before I could even finish sharing our word of the day (indigenous). 

My admin noticed that all students shared in our circle, listened to one another, and showed they felt at ease in my room. He said, “They were all engaged in the lesson, and they were having fun doing it.” 

I feel like that’s about the best I can hope for to start this year. Plus, it’s a solid data point to remind me, later on when schedule pressures feel hectic, that meeting students where they are and caring about them as human beings are all that really matters. 

Hello/Good-by

This week we celebrated fifth grade graduation. We had a drive-through event at the office building for our 100% on-line school. At the top of the driveway families turned in laptops and all the curriculum materials.

Then, with music playing and the bubble machine blowing, cars drove down the hill to the cheering teachers. We passed out balloons filled with confetti, bags of treats, and wristbands that read “I 100% survived 100% online school!”

For each student we also handed out a graduation certificate. One line read, “You have successfully completed fifth grade.” I read that with each student and told them, “You are officially done with school. You don’t need to log into the system anymore.” That announcement led to a happy dance every time, the child in the car, me outside. “Freedom!” “Escape!” (in Finding Nemo fashion). “Hallelujah!”

Some students had their picture taken at the “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” photo backdrop. Some said no thanks.

There were lots of smiles and even a few hugs.

I also spoke to every parent. Each time I said, “You did a great job.” The most common, instant reaction was physical. Shoulders fell. Heads dropped. Then the parent would say, “I thought I wasn’t doing well at all.” “I thought I was messing up.” “I thought I was failing.”

“No!” I said. “You were amazing! And you made it through this year. You did an awesome job.”

They straightened up then and starting talking about how hard it was.

“Yes. It was hard for everyone. I can’t imagine how you did it—

  • you, with three other kids at home.”
  • you, with a new baby.”
  • you, with your husband deployed.”

Side note here—I had been telling parents all year what a terrific job they were doing. On that last day of school it was clear that they read my notes as general and applying to  everyone else. Not to them. Individually, they each felt they were not doing well at all. Clearly, even phone calls hadn’t worked. All my encouragement during the year went nowhere. It wasn’t until I saw them face-to-face and spoke to them one-on-one that they actually believed me. Sigh.

Graduation was a thoroughly weird experience for all of us. It was the first time all year we got to see each other outside of Zoom. How strange was it? I didn’t recognize one of the other fifth grade teachers when I saw her in 3-D! She and I had met for PLCs nearly every day all year, but she looked different when she wasn’t flat.

One of the best things I heard that day was from one student’s mom who said it felt like I had reached through the computer and touched them. I told her it was mutual—we made a real connection in spite of the distance learning.

The other best thing was from a student who wrote in a card about how much she learned this year and added, “This year could have been so awful, but you made it close to wonderful!”

You know, I’ll take that. Close to wonderful is about the best I could hope for this year.

My take-away from all of this is that we must keep encouraging each other.

Encourage literally means put courage in.

  • Put courage in students.
  • Put courage in parents.
  • Put courage in each other as teachers and staff.

Courage comes from cour, which means heart.

Discourage literally means to rip the heart out of someone.

Our job is to put heart in. So let me start.

It was a ridiculously hard year. You maybe felt like you were failing. You maybe felt like you couldn’t do it. You maybe felt like you were never going to make it.

But look at you. You are here!

And you learned things. Like how to persevere. Like how to stay engaged with people even when you can’t be with them physically. Like how to use more and more and more technology. (Right???)

And you  made it.

You all did a great job this year.

Accountability: An Imagined Conversation

SCENE: Camera pans into The Principal’s Office. Teacher has been invited in for their end of year reflection conference. Principal has raised concerns about the high number of students on track to earn an F in Teacher’s 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th period classes. [Editor’s note: The characters represented below are not intended to serve as proxy for all principals or all teachers…]

PRINCIPAL [P]: Thanks for coming in, and I see you have your data with you [gestures to the stack of unnecessary spreadsheets the teacher is carrying].

TEACHER [T]: Of course. It really looks like the kids blew it this year. I’ve never had so many Fs in my whole career.

P: That must be frustrating. This has been an unprecedented year, according to everyone everywhere. Tell me about these Fs. It looks like from what I can see in Skyward, almost half of all of your students across all four classes have below a 50%. It looks like, though, when those kids don’t have zeros on their work, they are getting mainly As and Bs on assignments. What do you feel like is going on there?

T: Yeah, they just aren’t doing the work.

P: Hmm. What sorts of work have you been assigning them to do?

T: Typical stuff. The same stuff we’ve always done. I’ve never had so many kids just not do the work as this year. Worksheets, homework, reading assignments, there’s no trend, really, it’s just that they’re not doing the work or they’re just not turning it in. I remind them, I tell them to, but their engagement just sucks.

P: [Slowly nods and takes a deep breath] I see. What do you think is getting in the way of them doing the work or not turning it in? Maybe something to do with what’s going on in the world right now?

T: No, they’re coming to school on in-person days, and they’re even coming to zooms. They’re just not doing the work.

P: Tell me about your response to this situation. How are you providing feedback to them about their performance? What sorts of support or differentiation have you tried?

T: Well, they get zeros in the grade book. [Tosses grade book printouts onto the table between P and T.] They know they’re supposed to be doing the work. They’ve gotta learn that they can’t just not do what they’re told to do. That’s a life skill. What’s gonna happen when they’re in a job someday and they just don’t do what their boss says? No more job. No paycheck. In school, that’s a zero.

P: So it sounds to me like you are attempting to prepare them for real world responsibility.

T: Exactly. Gotta hold them accountable. No work, no score.

P: You’re intending to teach responsibility and then hold them “accountable.”

T: Exactly.

P: So tell me again, what is it that you are doing to teach responsibility?

T: They get zeros in the gradebook when they are too lazy to do the work and turn it in.

[Principal cringes, takes a deep breath, mentally runs through HR deadlines and CBA just-cause procedures.]

P: That sounds more like you are testing their responsibility.

T: I don’t get it.

P: It sounds like giving them zeros in the grade book isn’t teaching them responsibility, it is testing their responsibility.

T: I still don’t follow.

P: Let’s think of a math example. If you were going to teach the students the quadratic formula or the parts of a cell or how to decode a poem, what would that look like?

T: Lessons, examples, practice, a few quizzes, probably a final test.

P: So what do lessons, examples, practice, a few quizzes, and a final test look like when you are teaching responsibility? What might I see if I were observing this in a classroom setting?

T: [Visibly frustrated] I don’t get what this has to do with anything. They aren’t doing the work. I’m giving them zeros to teach them a lesson, I guess.

P: Okay. But you said that in “teaching,” the lesson’s just the first stage. You said [checks notes] “lessons, examples, practice, a few quizzes, and a final test.”

T: It’s a lesson they gotta learn! If I don’t give them zeroes how else are they going to learn responsibility?

P: Are they learning responsibility when you give them the zero?

T: I don’t understand.

P: If the “lesson” to teach responsibility is to give the kid a zero, what evidence might you have that this lesson is achieving its desired effect?

T: They get zeros for not turning things in. That teaches them the lesson.

P: I feel like we have a disconnect here. This is what I am asking you to consider: First, you’ve been giving students zeros all semester.

T: Yes, when they don’t do the work.

P: Have you found that getting a zero on missing work teaches the student responsibility, teaches them to avoid missing work in the future?

T: No. It’s all the same kids [taps on printouts], they just don’t do the work.

P: So it is clear that giving them zeros is not actually teaching them responsibility…

T: [interrupts] …nope, they just keep not doing the work.

P: …so have you considered that maybe your lesson on responsibility isn’t actually working?

T: So you’re saying I’m not allowed to give zeros? Fine, everyone gets an A!

P: That’s not at all what I’m saying. I’d just like you to reflect on what the lesson is that you’re trying to teach and whether the lesson is actually resulting in the student learning what it is you want them to learn.

T: How are they supposed to learn responsibility if I don’t give them zeros?

P: The same way they learn anything else: You teach the skill intentionally before you expect them to perform it. You give them examples, guidance, and feedback. You give them a safe place to fail now so they won’t fail later. You give them opportunities to demonstrate the skill, reflect on their mistakes, revise their thinking and their practices. I’m not saying don’t give zeros, necessarily. I’m saying that when you put a zero in the gradebook, you are testing them on a skill you haven’t explicitly taught them. High school is where students are supposed to learn the skills that keep them from the kinds of consequences you described: losing jobs, losing paychecks. When you give the zero, you’re taking away the paycheck, you implied that yourself. My question to you: What are you doing to teach responsibility, not just test responsibility?

END SCENE: Camera pans away, Teacher’s scrunched brow indicates they are clearly wrestling with this new concept of responsibility.

State Testing in the Time of Corona

Schools function best when they follow processes. Students, families, and staff know what to expect. Everything stays in compliance with state and federal laws. We follow the process year after year. Fine tuning and increasing efficiency until a pandemic hits. Then, we scramble.

At the start of every year new students who may qualify for English Language (EL) support services in Washington state take the ELPA21 screener. I wrote a previous blog post that went into greater detail about the test, but here’s a quick overview: students new to the school qualify to take the test based on answers given on school registration forms. The test is mostly taken by incoming Kindergarten students and a few older students, who are either new to the country or state.

As a result of the pandemic no students at my school took the ELPA21 screener.

Therefore, every child, whose families indicated their first language as other than English or that they speak a language other than English at home, became a provisional EL student. They received EL services.

About a month and a half ago my school transitioned from a fully online learning model to a hybrid model with the option for families to stay fully online. Almost immediately the state wanted every student attending school in person to take the ELPA21 summative assessment within a very narrow time period. Provisional EL students needed to begin taking the test within a week.