Matching Tracksuits

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education and teaching

More Testing

“Isn’t that test in a couple of weeks the state test?” Mrs. G asked this morning.

“No, no,” clarified Mrs. H. “In a couple of weeks it’s the state pilot TDA test. The actual state test won’t be until May.”

“Remember Mrs. J was telling us about the test the state is making our school take and how Mr. F[, the school principal,] was trying to convince the district to count the state test in lieu of the second [district-mandated] test?”

“Oh, yes, I remember that.” The discussion continued along the lines of how frustrating it is to be testing so much but how we can get our kids more prepared for these district- and state-mandated tests.

That three English teachers were having trouble figuring out just how many major, schedule-impacting writing tests there were to be this year says a lot about the testing load the district and state put on teachers and students.

Our district mandates quarterly benchmark tests in English and math through the third quarter, and each of these impact the schedule and learning environment in a major way. Plus, the district requires us to give two major writing tests in preparation for the state writing test. Each of these take half the school day.  So that’s eight days of testing right there — testing days that affect all classes and shorten all periods by approximately half. Naturally, it’s hard to get kids to engage in meaningful learning when they’ve just spent two hours analyzing some awful short story that’s at least 70 years old because the testing companies want to save money (i.e., boost revenue) by using texts that are in the public domain and hence don’t require licensing fees. (We English teachers hear all the time about how important it is to choose texts about things young readers can relate to, and the the  state farms out its test development to a company that completely disregards that.) So the day is in essence a wash. Eight days down the drain — almost two full school weeks.

And that’s just what the district mandates.

It’s bad enough that the district puts middle and high school students through this; it’s also rammed through the elementary schools. The Boy had his district-mandated third-quarter math benchmark test today. It was almost sixty questions. For a fourth grader.

I’ve been saying that eventually, the US has to realize this obsession with testing is doing nothing but harm to our students, and the powers that be eventually have to change this, but I’ve been saying it for nearly twenty years now, and instead of getting better, it’s getting worse.

What’s worse is, I don’t know of a single teacher that takes these benchmarks all that seriously. “They’re designed to show for which topics students need remediation,” the six-figure-salaried district big-shots explain to us. If as a teacher who’s now spent nearly 150 days working with these kids I can’t tell you off the top of my head who needs remediation with what topic, I probably am not putting enough thought into my teaching.

What’s frustrating is, I don’t know of a single classroom teacher that had any input into the discussion about whether these obsessive, intrusive tests would have any value to the teacher at all.  These decisions were made by individuals making two to three times what teachers make while spending absolutely no time in the classroom. They haven’t been in a classroom for over a decade at best, I’d venture.

I sometimes wonder what would happen if a whole school — everyone from administrators on down — simply refused to spend the time administering these tests. Everyone. Simple refusal. “We’ve decided as a school that this is not the best way to spend our students’ time.” What if some schools did it? What if all schools did it? What if teachers were vocal about their opposition to all this testing (well, they are, to be honest)?

I imagine what I’d do if I were a student. All the students of course hate these tests. They’re completely meaningless to them. I think I’d be tempted just to choose random answers and apologize to my teacher if it ended up making him look bad in the eyes of the powers that be.

Random Pictures from the Walk I Took during the Boy's Soccer Practice

Shooting

In a tragic first since I’ve been teaching in the Greenville County school district, a young man was shot and killed in a middle school less than five miles from the school where I teach. A twelve-year-old named Jamari Jackson was shot in the hallway during class change, from what I’ve pieced together from various news outlets. The suspect is also twelve years old, and he is now charged with “murder, possession of a weapon during a violent crime, possession of a firearm on school property and unlawful possession of a weapon by a person under the age of 18.”

There’s nothing more I can say than that. Twelve-year-olds killing twelve-year-olds. America 2022.

Testing

We had today our third benchmark test, this time for ELA. Tomorrow we’ll have the math benchmark. Science will be Friday. Three days of testing. And this is not testing for the whole year — this is just testing to cover the third quarter. For English and math benchmarks, we run a special testing schedule. Students test with their first academic period, and that testing session runs from 8:30 to 10:30, though it usually goes in fact to 11:00. That’s over two hours of the day dedicated to testing. THe rest of the day follows a normal sequence of classes, but each class period is reduced to 30 minutes. Thirty minutes with tired kids (those tests are awful — 50-70 questions that, in the case of English, cover 5-10 texts of varying interest and complexity) is hardly conducive effective learning. The day is not quite a wash, but it’s close. The thing is, though, we did this at the end of first quarter, at the end of second quarter, and now again at the end of third quarter. At the end of the fourth quarter we do it a final time, but it’s not district-mandated tests like the benchmarks but rather state-mandated tests. It amounts to the same: three days of testing four times. That’s twelve days of testing. That’s almost thee full school weeks. That’s not all the testing, though: we also have two TDA (text-dependent analysis) tests that the district mandates, running the same extended testing schedule.

And this year, the state requires us to do another, third TDA before the fourth and final TDA which actually counts. Those three TDAs plus the final actual state TDA means we’re up to 16 days of testing. That’s 8.8% of the year doing testing. Nearly ten percent of the year we’re doing testing.

First Day Back

English 8 students began a new unit today on the Diary of Anne Frank, our final major reading selection for the year. We began with an anticipation lesson designed to get students empathetic to Anne Frank's situation and the dangers she faced as the Nazis took over Europe and began their unimaginable efforts to commit genocide.

English I Honors students worked on a brief review of phrases (see notes above) before heading out into the wild world of clauses. We looked at the definition of independent clauses and examined several examples, touching additionally (and briefly) on subordinate clauses.

A good start to the final quarter.

Left Behind

“Pick it up!” she yelled. We were at the end of class when A, who’s always a bit of an immature prankster, pushed K’s materials off her desk. K, who has issues with impulse control (i.e., she’s a chronic disrupter) doesn’t like when her world is disrupted, and she grows verbally violent when it happens. A was walking away smiling, which of course led to K feeling even more aggrieved. “I said,” she began, taking a deep breath, “pick it up!” He walked out the door. She walked out the door herself — not to accost him in the hallway, not to get help from an adult. No — she declared as she walked out, “Well, I ain’t pickin’ it up.” Bear in mind: these were her materials. She literally walked into her next class without her materials, thinking she was perfectly justified in doing so.

I picked her materials up and stowed them in my cabinet. Part of me was justifying it with the thought that it would teach her a little lesson; part of me did it, I think, just to irritate her further. That is, I’ll readily admit, somewhat childish, but at the time, I wasn’t thinking in terms of irritating her. I wanted her to go through the last two periods of the day without her materials to provide an object lesson to her: “Do you realize how many of your problems in school are of your own creation?” I’d planned on asking her when she got her materials back. “You had to go through two periods explaining why you didn’t have your materials, and I guarantee all your teachers responded the same way: ‘That’s your own fault.'”

Ten minutes into the next period, she was knocking at my door. A student let her in. She stormed back to her seat, and discovering her materials were missing, turned and yelled to the whole class, “Where’s my stuff!?!” She proceeded to rant for a while, completely disrupting what we were doing, but I just let her rant for a while. After about thirty seconds, I said, “K, I need you to go back to your class now.”

“But where’s my stuff?!?”

“I need you to go back to class now.”

“But I’ve got to get my stuff.”

“I need you to go back to class now.”

“I have to have my stuff. Where’s my stuff?”

“I need you to go back to class now.”

Her teacher came to the door, a puzzled look on his face.

“Mr. A says I need my stuff.”

“I need you to go back to class now.” I’ve found that the best way to deal with such situations is just to be a broken record, and as it always does, it worked: she huffed and started out of the room, then turned and walked over to a friend and started talking to her.

This is the kind of behavior teachers have to deal with every single day. Every almost single class. In some classes, every single minute.

Back in the Cafeteria

For the first time in two years. What a feeling.

Outside Time

The promise of the coming summer begins to show itself when, during our monthly outside reward time, kids run around in shorts and short sleeves and get sweaty. Adolescent funk — nothing like it.

Pics from Yesterday and a Teacher Reality

Dead Door

“Today’s the day we kill them off!” I declared as we started class today. We acted the entire fifth act in class. All three scenes amount to little more than half of act one, I’d say. They enjoyed it, I think. Kids said, “You know, you were right: I couldn’t understand Shakespeare at all when we started, but now I don’t even feel I need to look at the simplified version most of the time.”

In the afternoon, we got word about our homeroom’s door decoration: we won second place in the school. First place — another class on our team. Third place — another eighth-grade class. Our grade swept them! Our team took the top spots!

A fun day to be an eighth-grade teacher.

 

Faking It

Juliet is dead now — at least in the eyes of her parents and extended family. Instead of marrying Paris today and going off to live in bliss as her parents anticipated, she has died in her sleep.

It’s strange how easily Friar Laurence manages to steer the family away from all thoughts other than the one he most desperately desires: get her buried as soon as possible, for who knows — from his perspective — what will happen if his potion wears off before they get her in the family crypt.

But why isn’t Capulet more concerned with what happened? How could a young girl die so suddenly? I think the notion, prevalent then, that someone could die of a broken heart goes a long way in explaining this. For Capulet, it’s easy enough just to accept the fact that Juliet never really got over her sorrow for Tybalt’s death, and it was of that broken heart that she died.