The Time Has Come...

Today was our first official day of EOG testing. The kids took the reading test. We spent FOUR HOURS in complete silence, then an additional two and a half hours being barely productive. I can't blame the kids for not wanting to do any work after the test, but we still have two more days of math to get ready for! I'm getting incredibly nervous and excited. Of course I keep wondering what else I should have done to make sure my students are fully prepared. Did we practice the formulas enough? Do they all know how to use the calculators correctly? Will they remember to double-check their work? It's out of my control, now, because tomorrow morning is The Day. Game Day, as I call it. Good news: I have 3 special ed kids that took the modified math test early, and all three of them passed--one even passed advanced! Let's hope for the same results with the rest of the 7th grade. Wish us luck!

The past two weeks have been rough. It's been a battle to get out bed everyday.

About two months ago, we had an incident with two students in one of the 7th grade classrooms. It started out as a playful exchange, and eventually led to a boy picking up a chair and hitting a girl over the head with it, gashing her eyebrow and causing utter chaos before 8 in the morning. He was a student who had come mid-year, and had been a behavior issue since day one. In fact, he had been kicked out of his previous school for fighting, yet we still allowed him to come to our school. Problem number 1,392 with our county.

He was immediately put out of school and within days was a candidate for long-term suspension. Then one day, I saw his name removed from my roster, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. From day one, he was nothing but disrespectful and disruptive. He created a scene in class, and then laughed when he was disciplined. He talked back, refused to do work, slept, and had half of the seventh grade girls fighting over him. This incident was just the icing on the cake. The girl's parents pressed charges against him, and we thought for sure we were done dealing with this child.

Keyword: thought.

One day after school, our assistant principal was having a casual conversation with one of our team members, and he told her that the boy's trial had been held that day. Apparently, after hearing his case, the judge ordered this kid back to school immediately. She said no one could prove he was a threat to the school, and instead gave him probation and community service. No one could prove he was a threat to the school? Didn't he prove that when he picked up a chair and knocked a girl upside the face with it? He even claimed to have "blacked out" from anger. That's not dangerous?

When I heard the news, I felt sick to my stomach. This kid was going to waltz right back into school with a smirk on his face, and the kids were going to worship him. He would destroy the dynamic of a class I had worked so hard to repair. He would corrupt my innocent babies.

The school didn't have a say in the matter. The judge ordered it, so it was to be done. He was not allowed to come back until the principal had met with the superintendent, and the child, parent and probation officer met with the principal. This bought us 3 terror-free days, but eventually The Day rolled around when his name was placed back on my roster, and I thought I might throw up.

Before he was allowed back in class, we met with our school leaders and went over his behavior contract. It was basically a restatement of all of the rules and policies that ALL of our students must follow, but in a format that would spell it out very clearly for everyone involved. The contract required us to first make contact with the parent, then the probation officer, then disciplinary action. When asked my thoughts on the behavior contract, I couldn't respond with anything except, "I'm so angry that we are even in the position that I cannot think clearly."

Two weeks into his return, the child has broken 10 of his 11 expectations. So what happens? We have another meeting, this time with his father. The principal reminds him that he is not upholding his contract, and that the next offense will mean suspension. But shouldn't it be too late for that? Shouldn't he have been gone the first time he broke his contract?

Reason #275 why I can't stay here. These kids and their parents are not held accountable for anything. Everything is the teacher's fault, the school's fault, the principal's fault. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of working my butt off, only to be told I could be doing more, I should be doing more, that I'm failing my kids. That it's not fair to them. That I'm not good enough. I'm done.

21 days.

Thoughts on Testing

As I pace around the classroom, monitoring my students while they take the practice EOG, I can't help but replay the conversation my roommate and I had this morning while we went through the monotony of our daily routine. Pack lunch. Eat breakfast. Pour coffee. Announce countdown (22 days). Etc. etc. We were entertianing our favorite topic of the moment: life after TFA. The light at the end of the tunnel. Freedom. Independence Day. Get the point? Although both of us are transitioning into charter school jobs, where the hours are longer and the work is even more demanding, we are both moving to populous cities where there are people our age, people who aren't teachers,and some hope for a semi-formal existence (happy hour, anyone?).

We were talking about the schools in Chicago, where my roommate is headed (two reasons to visit now). While our students haven't even started state testing yet, the Chicago charter schools have been finished for nearly two months. I was immediately taken aback by this, and I proceeded to blurt out the question that has been haunting me all morning:

"So what have they been doing for the past two months?"

It's not necessarily the question itself that bothers me. In fact, I think most people woudl have a simliar initial reaction. What bothers me is precisely that. We've been conditioned to believe that our children's education revolves around a state test. That success is measured by their answers to 50 multiple choice questions. And that once the test is over, learning loses its focus.

When I say "we", I'm referring to our entire country. I know my circumstances are extreme. I'm working in a low-income, low-performing district where test scores are the scarlet letter that taint a school's reputation. The only hope of polishing that tarnished reputation is to raise test scores, and to do it quickly. so maybe the emphasis on standardized testing ins't as noticeable in the district where you were from or where you currently live. It has most likely become an expectation, a norm, an unspoken rule. Children pass, and they pass not only with proficiency but with fluency. They are promoted to the next grade level with advanced skills, not the bare minimum.

As soon as I asked that ridiculous question this morning, I felt embarrassed. What do they do after the state test? They probably have the opportunity to encourage creative thinking, to assign projects that allow students to delve into a topic that sparks their individual curiosities. They probably spend time learning about things that shape children as citizens, and not just students. I imagine kids actually get to fully engage in the science and social studies curricula, two subjects that are full of important and fascinating material but are often neglected because they are not tested.

Those students probably don't fear the standardized tests the way ours do. They probably don't have to be threatened with retention or bribed with an end-of-year field trip. Their teachers probably don't pray every night for them to pass the test the way that I do. I bet they are happier, healthier, more well-rounded children.

I know this is just the tip of the iceberg. I know I'm inexperienced, and that there are benefits to standardized testing. I know it's a complex, age-old problem that a second-year teacher isn't going to solve. But hey, this is my blog, and I'm just sharing my thoughts. What are yours?