If only standardized tests could measure fortitude
I searched Flickr Commons for “test” and here’s what came back. (Bikini Island, 1946. San Diego Air and Space Museum Archive).
Today, thousands of children in the Atlanta Public Schools, hopefully rested and with full stomachs, begin the Georgia Milestones, a series of statewide standardized tests for public school students in grades three through eight. Supposedly, the test “provide[s] students with critical information about their own achievement and their readiness for their next level of learning.”
That would be funny if it weren’t so sad. Students prep for this test for months, but it’s not for them. These students, each with their own desires and dreams, become data for someone else’s use. In the process, they suffer anxiety regarding the actual test and then experience an inflated or deflated sense of self-worth once the test scores come out. Some milestone. An entire year (or six) spent in the service of someone else’s goal, all the while being told that it’s theirs.
I spent some time tutoring a fifth-grade student who was prepping for this test. The topic was geometry. He was working very hard to answer questions like, “What is the minimum number of acute angles a triangle must have?” and “What is the maximum number of obtuse angles a triangle can have?”
We approached the concepts from multiple directions over the course of thirty minutes. We revisited three types of angles, the three types of triangles, and the vocabulary associated with them. We considered all possible answers and eliminated them one by one.
At no point did this student look at the clock. At no point did he waver in his attention. At no point did he whine or complain.
And at no point was it ever easy or straightforward for him to answer these questions. At no point was he confident in his answers.
We saw growth and progress, for sure. He became more familiar with the idea that geometry is built from a series of interlocking logic puzzles. He practiced taking take time to think. He began to accept the idea that on a multiple choice test, it’s not always about looking for the right answer — sometimes, the best approach is to eliminate the wrong ones, one by one.
The expansion of knowledge and skill that my student experienced yesterday will take some time to process. All the ingredients are there in the cake, but it hasn’t been baked yet. And like many students, he needs to do some more work on foundational skills in order to make it easier to grasp these more sophisticated concepts.
The idea that this child will receive “critical information about [his] own achievement” by being tested on these specific concepts is absurd.
How are they going to measure his unbelievable grit, his growing willingness to be open to new ideas, and his high tolerance of feedback? These are the things that actually matter.
This student has come a long way in math. With his positive attitude, strong work ethic, and supportive parents and tutors, he has made great progress this year. Anyone with eyes can see it.
Unfortunately, Scantron machines don’t have eyes.