Every fall and spring, we pull out the tape measure and start to measure. We humans like to measure. We like to graph and explore and quantify, even things that don’t seem initially quantifiable, like how much a student has learned, how much a teacher has taught a given child. How can you measure something that is so nebulous as the teacher/student dynamic? With some students, we merely show a direction and the student strikes off on her own, fascinated with the new knowledge, seeking more on her own. Did we teach all of that? Certainly not. Is inspiration the same as teaching? Other students are apathetic for a variety of reasons, and a significant portion of our time is spent breaking through that apathy, trying to inspire, to motivate.
Still, effective or not, we trundle into the computer lab twice a year to take the Measures of Academic Progress, a test designed to serve as a fall benchmark and then spring progress report.
This year, I took notes as the students took the test.
10:03
After the first three students, we have a spring average 17 points above fall score. That’s approximately a three-fold improvement over my best yearly growth, but I fear it’s not to last. Indeed, I know it won’t last: these are the highly motivated, almost-always-do-their-homework kids who were already testing well above average at the start of the year. Still, their growth alone is encouraging.
10:52
The first results from my on-level classes are coming in. This is where we’ll make it or break it, because their motivation is not nearly as high as other students’, those in the honors classes. I tell these students, “You call those other classes the ‘smart classes,’ but the only difference between them and you is that they have the motivation to do the work.” But the results belie that, a pleasant surprise. The overall average growth has dropped, but it’s still a mind-blowing 10.09 point average. The on-level class has a 9.34 point increase average.
If I could have the results of my dreams, I would not have aimed this high.
11:40
Usually, at this point in the day, I’m thinking, “Just let the day end. Just put me out of my misery.” A student would raise her hand, indicating the completed test, and I would take a deep breath, steel myself, before heading over to record the score. “Please, please, I need some more growth. The last two kids’ scores went down. I have to have some positive scores!” It’s not that the students were doing poorly; they were simply not producing the results I’d dreamed of. Well, no, that’s not accurate: some classes actually as a whole did miserably throughout the years, and I can’t help but blame myself in those situations.
This year, it’s entirely different. I still hold my breath as a student approaches, but at this point, with 95.56% of students showing growth (as opposed to the usual 70-ish%), I’m just waiting for that score decrease that I know, just know, must be coming at some point. This dream cannot go on until the end of the day.
2:24
I pass out the students’ score sheets from their fall testing period, hopeful that these kids can pull it out. Our percentage of students showing growth took a serious hit last period, dropping from over 95% to 87.5%. The class in question is still very far above average with its scores, but very far below average with its growth. “When they’re that high already,” my principal reminded me early in the year, “it’s very difficult to get them up even higher.”
Yet despite the surprise, the day ended with almost 90% of students showing growth, and in one class, one hundred percent showed growth.
It was a year that made me think, “Well, where exactly is that merit pay?”