teach. pray. - No Test Can Measure That
Well, tomorrow is Monday and sh*ts getting real. However, I'm looking forward to waking up at 5:15 a.m. and going to work because I get to change the world one kid at a time Monday through Friday. Now, I didn't leave work Friday afternoon feeling this way-so let's backtrack.
Friday started as any other day. I hugged each student as they walked through the door. I was excited to teach my curriculum for the day. I couldn't wait to do my read aloud because I knew how pumped up the kids have been about this book (The Thief of Always by Clive Barker - if you haven't read it, I HIGHLY recommend you doing so-adult or child-it's amazing). This book has stirred up some incredibly deep class discussions, and the kids have been blowing me away with their insight. It has just been so much fun. Then, there was a data meeting during planning.
A lot of the data being discussed I had already seen but from a different perspective-from a growth perspective, not a mastery perspective. We were discussing MAP scores and how they were projected to correlate with SC READY scores. At first glance, my scores look pretty amazing - yes, I'm gloating because I'm super proud of the growth my students have made. However, as much as they have grown, the SC READY scores look grim. Within seconds, the light of the room became tunnel vision and all I could see is how far away most of my students were from meeting expectations on this standardized and mandated test. I felt the floodgates open, and I started drowning very quickly. I no longer heard or rationalized the entire conversation happening around me. All I heard was, "From here on out, you should use this data to drive your instruction." All I heard was, "From here on out, you should pull this document out and teach to the test." My heart started convulsing. My face felt a million degrees. My ears felt like they were releasing steam. Emotions robbed every rational thought. I could feel the tears filling my eyes and the knots in my throat getting tighter. All I could think is, "You told me to use this curriculum. You told me to be engaging. You told me to do all of these things and now you're telling me to drop it all and teach to a test. This goes against EVERYTHING education should be." Then, before I knew it, the meeting was over. I was an emotional wreck, and I had to teach my last block-heartbroken.
What I have done well is I have built connections and relationships with my students. I've done such a good job at it that when they walked through the door they sat down silently and one student stated, "Mrs. Granger, I can see it on your face. You need a hug." She got out of her seat and hugged me. The rest of the class followed her and there I was embraced by 17 fifth graders. They knew I was hurting. They knew I was stressed. They knew I needed a hug just by looking at my face...even though I was "smiling" on the outside. Then, the tunnel vision instantly went away and all light was restored. And, I carried on with my day just as I had planned-better than I had planned.
I read aloud. We discussed. I taught. I gave them time to free write about whatever was on their mind and in their heart. When their fifteen minutes of free writing was up I heard the following comments, "Mrs. Granger, can I take my writing notebook home to finish my story?" "Mrs. Granger, will you read my writing? I was really honest about my feelings." "Mrs. Granger, will you please read my writing?" When I flipped through their writing notebooks, I was touched by their honesty and creativity. One student wrote a song about being a world changer. Another student wrote a story emulating the author we had been reading and correctly used words like inquisitively and conjectured. Another student wrote me a page of insightful and inspirational quotes she had developed. Not one student complained about writing. As a matter of fact, they all cheered because they got to write on Friday. This, my friends, is what education is about.
Then, the day was over and the kids left. I sat at my desk with those papers full of data glaring me down. And, again, they sucked the life out of me. I thought about that data all afternoon and on my 40-minute ride home. I sat down at the kitchen table and started crying when my husband asked if I was ok. And, the only response I could muster was, "I'm so overwhelmed."
You see in the midst of my 50 to 60 hours a week teaching gig, I'm also working on graduate courses to earn my BCBA (Board Certified Behavior Analyst). I'm also training for a half marathon. I'm also feeling guilty for not spending time with my family. I'm also feeling guilty for not being able to keep my house clean and for not being able to get to the grocery store for the week. I'm feeling guilty for not having the energy to help my husband prepare dinner every afternoon. I'm feeling guilty for falling asleep on the sofa at 8:00 every night. I'm feeling guilty for not volunteering and not being active in my community as much as I want to be. I feel guilty that we can't pay $2,100 for our 13-year-old dog to get surgery on her ACL. I feel guilty for crushing under pressure. I feel guilty for feeling guilty for all my first world problems. So, I had my moment of tears as my amazingly supportive and sweet husband encouraged me and loved me. Eventually, I was emotionally stable again and carried on with my evening.
Saturday, I was doing some required reading for our school book club. We're reading The Wild Card by Hope and Wade King. Chapter nine came at just the right time because it talked about standardized testing and how standardized testing shouldn't be an excuse or roadblock for engagement. And, I was like, "Yeah! No excuses!" And, a little part of my soul started to heal.
Then, this evening, I started researching ideas for a CSI themed activity my co-worker and I had been throwing around for the past week. Once I found some rigorous material, I started researching on Pinterest...and boy, oh boy, did the creative juices start. My poor co-worker started getting text message after text message, and I found myself getting excited about going to work again - and yes, I even started getting excited about testing.
I was given a group of 49 students to teach ELA to this school year. About 48% of my students have an IEP. At the beginning of the year, these same students were more than 1.5 to 3-grade levels behind in reading. Then add in another 1-2% of those students being ELL learner (English Language Learners). I teach at a title one school which means our school serves an impoverished community. Most of my students come from cyclic families where a high school diploma is rare and a college education is unheard of.
On the first day of school, most of my students told me they didn't enjoy reading and nearly all of them stated they hated writing. They felt writing was boring. On Friday, these same students were begging me to read more and cheering at the opportunity to write. At the beginning of the year, my students told me they didn't really like school. On Friday, they told me they were looking forward to seeing me on Monday. I've even overheard them say things like, "I don't want to be out of school for spring break. I like coming to school." At the beginning of the year, these kids were setting goals like, "I want to be famous." A few weeks ago, they set goals like, "I want to make honor roll for the fourth nine weeks," and "I want to be a more focused student." At the beginning of the year, they were saying things like, "This is too hard. I can't do it." Now, they're saying things like, "I didn't do as well this time around, but I can study more and do better next time."
Where does state standardized testing assess that? Where does standardized testing assess the personal and human growth my students have made? Where does standardized testing assess the love of learning? Where does standardized testing assess the citizenship of my students? It doesn't. Therefore, my students are not a test score.
I take the challenge as a teacher to raise the bar. I take the challenge as a teacher to get my students "test ready." I take the challenge to find the detours in order to make "test prep" engaging. However, standardized test scores will not measure my ability to foster lifelong learners. Therefore, I am not a test score.
My students are revolutionaries. My students are scientists and doctors. My students are artists and musicians. My students are political leaders and activists. My students are lawyers and future Presidents. My students are community leaders and service workers. My students are success stories. My students are heart and love. My students are the future, and they are world changers. And, I'm one small, but important, stepping stone on their journey. No test can measure that.
Friday started as any other day. I hugged each student as they walked through the door. I was excited to teach my curriculum for the day. I couldn't wait to do my read aloud because I knew how pumped up the kids have been about this book (The Thief of Always by Clive Barker - if you haven't read it, I HIGHLY recommend you doing so-adult or child-it's amazing). This book has stirred up some incredibly deep class discussions, and the kids have been blowing me away with their insight. It has just been so much fun. Then, there was a data meeting during planning.
A lot of the data being discussed I had already seen but from a different perspective-from a growth perspective, not a mastery perspective. We were discussing MAP scores and how they were projected to correlate with SC READY scores. At first glance, my scores look pretty amazing - yes, I'm gloating because I'm super proud of the growth my students have made. However, as much as they have grown, the SC READY scores look grim. Within seconds, the light of the room became tunnel vision and all I could see is how far away most of my students were from meeting expectations on this standardized and mandated test. I felt the floodgates open, and I started drowning very quickly. I no longer heard or rationalized the entire conversation happening around me. All I heard was, "From here on out, you should use this data to drive your instruction." All I heard was, "From here on out, you should pull this document out and teach to the test." My heart started convulsing. My face felt a million degrees. My ears felt like they were releasing steam. Emotions robbed every rational thought. I could feel the tears filling my eyes and the knots in my throat getting tighter. All I could think is, "You told me to use this curriculum. You told me to be engaging. You told me to do all of these things and now you're telling me to drop it all and teach to a test. This goes against EVERYTHING education should be." Then, before I knew it, the meeting was over. I was an emotional wreck, and I had to teach my last block-heartbroken.
What I have done well is I have built connections and relationships with my students. I've done such a good job at it that when they walked through the door they sat down silently and one student stated, "Mrs. Granger, I can see it on your face. You need a hug." She got out of her seat and hugged me. The rest of the class followed her and there I was embraced by 17 fifth graders. They knew I was hurting. They knew I was stressed. They knew I needed a hug just by looking at my face...even though I was "smiling" on the outside. Then, the tunnel vision instantly went away and all light was restored. And, I carried on with my day just as I had planned-better than I had planned.
I read aloud. We discussed. I taught. I gave them time to free write about whatever was on their mind and in their heart. When their fifteen minutes of free writing was up I heard the following comments, "Mrs. Granger, can I take my writing notebook home to finish my story?" "Mrs. Granger, will you read my writing? I was really honest about my feelings." "Mrs. Granger, will you please read my writing?" When I flipped through their writing notebooks, I was touched by their honesty and creativity. One student wrote a song about being a world changer. Another student wrote a story emulating the author we had been reading and correctly used words like inquisitively and conjectured. Another student wrote me a page of insightful and inspirational quotes she had developed. Not one student complained about writing. As a matter of fact, they all cheered because they got to write on Friday. This, my friends, is what education is about.
Then, the day was over and the kids left. I sat at my desk with those papers full of data glaring me down. And, again, they sucked the life out of me. I thought about that data all afternoon and on my 40-minute ride home. I sat down at the kitchen table and started crying when my husband asked if I was ok. And, the only response I could muster was, "I'm so overwhelmed."
You see in the midst of my 50 to 60 hours a week teaching gig, I'm also working on graduate courses to earn my BCBA (Board Certified Behavior Analyst). I'm also training for a half marathon. I'm also feeling guilty for not spending time with my family. I'm also feeling guilty for not being able to keep my house clean and for not being able to get to the grocery store for the week. I'm feeling guilty for not having the energy to help my husband prepare dinner every afternoon. I'm feeling guilty for falling asleep on the sofa at 8:00 every night. I'm feeling guilty for not volunteering and not being active in my community as much as I want to be. I feel guilty that we can't pay $2,100 for our 13-year-old dog to get surgery on her ACL. I feel guilty for crushing under pressure. I feel guilty for feeling guilty for all my first world problems. So, I had my moment of tears as my amazingly supportive and sweet husband encouraged me and loved me. Eventually, I was emotionally stable again and carried on with my evening.
Saturday, I was doing some required reading for our school book club. We're reading The Wild Card by Hope and Wade King. Chapter nine came at just the right time because it talked about standardized testing and how standardized testing shouldn't be an excuse or roadblock for engagement. And, I was like, "Yeah! No excuses!" And, a little part of my soul started to heal.
Then, this evening, I started researching ideas for a CSI themed activity my co-worker and I had been throwing around for the past week. Once I found some rigorous material, I started researching on Pinterest...and boy, oh boy, did the creative juices start. My poor co-worker started getting text message after text message, and I found myself getting excited about going to work again - and yes, I even started getting excited about testing.
I was given a group of 49 students to teach ELA to this school year. About 48% of my students have an IEP. At the beginning of the year, these same students were more than 1.5 to 3-grade levels behind in reading. Then add in another 1-2% of those students being ELL learner (English Language Learners). I teach at a title one school which means our school serves an impoverished community. Most of my students come from cyclic families where a high school diploma is rare and a college education is unheard of.
On the first day of school, most of my students told me they didn't enjoy reading and nearly all of them stated they hated writing. They felt writing was boring. On Friday, these same students were begging me to read more and cheering at the opportunity to write. At the beginning of the year, my students told me they didn't really like school. On Friday, they told me they were looking forward to seeing me on Monday. I've even overheard them say things like, "I don't want to be out of school for spring break. I like coming to school." At the beginning of the year, these kids were setting goals like, "I want to be famous." A few weeks ago, they set goals like, "I want to make honor roll for the fourth nine weeks," and "I want to be a more focused student." At the beginning of the year, they were saying things like, "This is too hard. I can't do it." Now, they're saying things like, "I didn't do as well this time around, but I can study more and do better next time."
Where does state standardized testing assess that? Where does standardized testing assess the personal and human growth my students have made? Where does standardized testing assess the love of learning? Where does standardized testing assess the citizenship of my students? It doesn't. Therefore, my students are not a test score.
I take the challenge as a teacher to raise the bar. I take the challenge as a teacher to get my students "test ready." I take the challenge to find the detours in order to make "test prep" engaging. However, standardized test scores will not measure my ability to foster lifelong learners. Therefore, I am not a test score.
My students are revolutionaries. My students are scientists and doctors. My students are artists and musicians. My students are political leaders and activists. My students are lawyers and future Presidents. My students are community leaders and service workers. My students are success stories. My students are heart and love. My students are the future, and they are world changers. And, I'm one small, but important, stepping stone on their journey. No test can measure that.
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