I read the instructions to the kids — the same instructions I’ve read for years. It’s the same test program they’ve used for years. (Doesn’t the company to which our state pays millions of dollars ever develop new software? Isn’t this just antiquated after so many years?) Then comes the statement: “Do your best when answering the questions.” It might not be a word-for-word quote there, but it’s the gist.

I literally remind the kids to do their best.

To be fair, though, it’s hard for the kids to see any sense in this test. By the time the results come back in September, they’re a month into their high school adventure — what do they care about middle school scores anymore? As far as they can tell, the test does nothing for them, affects them in no way.

That’s a two-edged sword, to be honest. On the one hand, it saves them worry and stress. On the other hand, it makes it more difficult for them to take the thing seriously. And why should they?

I usually level with them: “It has no real effect on you.”

“Why do we do it?” they ask.

“It’s a measure of my effectiveness.” If all my students fail the test, that reflects badly on me. If the expected number fail the test, I’m an adequate teacher. If fewer than expected fail the test, I’m an excellent teacher.

It’s all about the numbers, as it always is. Wheezer says it best:

There’s always a number that’ll make you feel bad ’bout yourself
You try to measure up, try to measure up to somebody else
Numbers are out to get you, numbers are out to get you
Numbers, ooh
They say that you’re too short to join the team
And your IQ’s too low for poetry
Numbers are out to get you, numbers are out to get you

Education has three agents:

• students,
• parents, and
• teachers.

It’s only that third element that can be legislated, and those numbers are a useful metric in that endeavor.

So I smiled and read again today, “Do your best when answering questions.”