I've been thinking a great deal about data. Not that I'm some sort of math whiz, but educational data. See, years ago, educational reformers decided that students are data points rather than human beings, and teachers have been forced to closely examine the data to determine if their students are learning.
There are many fallacies about educational data. For one, there's no context. School districts gather loads of data about our students, like economics, ethnic origin, gender, but there's no true individual element of information gathered, like mental illness, hunger, abuse.
Data is manipulated to achieve a particular effect. For example, my colleagues learned this week that my AP class scores dropped in comparison to last year's students. I saw the bar graph displayed in all its glory with the two different years of results displayed, but there was no context provided. In reality, I had fewer students take the test this year, but their results exceeded the national average in all measurable areas. In my AP English subject area, test scores dropped across the United States. So yes, my scores dropped from last year, but I still exceeded the national average for this year.
I'm no supporter of standardized testing. I believe this push to test the shit out of kids has harmed them psychologically. My students feel tremendous stress and anxiety about their tests, and our institutions don't help much. We practice and practice and practice, and the kids feel worse and worse about their performances. We wonder why kids need anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications, considering them "weaker" than previous generations or blaming technology for these issues. No one considers the pressures of taking a yearly test and the amount of pressure teachers are forced to place on our students to perform well.
Back in my day, we took the Iowa Test of Basic Skills every couple of years. There was no pressure, no academies, no pre and post tests to worry about. We just did it, got our results and moved on.
I've spent all week thinking about, talking about, and looking at data. As of today, my students have been reduced to high achiever, mid-achiever, and low achiever. I know nothing about them except how they've performed on a standardized test. A snapshot of one day in their lives. I am saddened by the reality each child is a piece of data used to measure ME rather than a human being making progress in my learning environment.
My other complaint is this: when students do well on a standardized test, they are complimented. Teachers, admin say, "This was a good group of kids!" No credit is given to the teachers who worked themselves to exhaustion help kids achieve those scores. However, when kids don't do as well, criticism is leveled at the teachers; we didn't do enough, we need to do better. We can't win. Apparently we aren't responsible for student success just student failure.
School starts tomorrow, as does testing windows and data collection. I will walk into my room filled with young, curious minds eager to learn, and throughout the rest of the year, I will be forced to determine their achievement levels. There is no humanity.
Once there was a middle-aged woman who thought about too many things...and wrote them into a blog.
Some of my Favorite Things
- Writing**
- Teaching**
- Pillars of the Earth*
- Penguins of Madagascar**
- Old Movies**
- Music*
- Margaret Atwood*
- John Sandford...Prey series*
- Crime shows*
- Bookstores!**
Thursday, August 16, 2018
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
Test score humiliation
Imagine a math classroom-or any classroom where a teacher uses humiliation as a teaching strategy. Imagine Martha, a young woman, who is about to receive her math test back. Martha works hard and tries different methods to make sure she is ready for her tests. In fact, she felt good about the results of the test she was about to get back.
But her teacher, Miss Green, has a strategy to motivate students to improve: she likes to put up their test results for the entire class to see. She takes names off the tests, but the entire class knows whose scores are on the screen. The first test on the screen is Peter's; again, everyone knows it's his. Miss Green shows his current score, but then she compares his current score to his past two test scores. Students can see his growth. Leaving Peter's scores on the screen, Miss Green then adds Mary's test scores. She's doing well, and all students are happy to see Mary's scores improved from her previous scores. After comparing several other student scores, Miss Green places Martha's scores on the screen. Martha failed the test. Moreover, Martha's previous test scores, Ds, are compared to everyone else's scores that are on the screen. Miss Green lectures the class about how Ds and Fs are not acceptable; students need to do better. Martha hangs her head in shame.
Isn't this a horrible way to teach? I think so. In fact, there would be an outcry against this teaching method, yet, in a few weeks, this will be a reality for countless teachers, including at my school, across the country. Our test scores will be placed on a screen for all to see; we will be compared to other high schools in the district; and we will be told we need to "work smarter," "work harder," or other "motivational" words to let us know we are not doing our jobs sufficiently.
How do I know this? This is what happens each year at a beginning of the year faculty meeting. Granted, no one's names are on the screen, but we know who teaches which classes, which subjects. My colleagues and I dread this meeting; we feel shamed and humiliated. Many of us whose scores dropped this past year are already feeling stressed about having our scores placed in front of our faculty.
Why is it acceptable to shame and humiliate teachers? We work with a varying population: homeless students, students dealing with mental illness to wealthy students whose parents provide them every luxury. We work with a varying population: students who cannot read at grade level to students who read at a college level. We work with a varying population: students who care about learning to students who don't care about anything at all.
I teach AP Literature and Composition as well as IB senior English. For the sixth year in a row, I had a 100% test pass rate in IB. My AP Literature pass rate dropped to 55%. In fact, to provide context for this score, AP Literature pass rates dropped across the United States. Moreover, CollegeBoard has encouraged an "AP for All" mentality, so out of my 76 students, I would say more than half were not "AP material." Many could not read or write at grade level, which their PSAT and SAT scores will substantiate. None of this information will be presented at the "meeting of shame and humiliation."
IB senior English has a population of students who want to be in the class and who have the aptitude for the work. My AP class is different, therefore the results are different. Does this mean I am unfit to teach AP Literature? No, but I feel the message will be that I--and my colleagues--are not working hard enough or smart enough with our students, which is reflected in their test scores.
I have no answers, no solutions. But I do know this: a couple of test scores DO NOT measure the thinking or learning that took place over the course of a year. And it's a shame we value a test score over the work of a teacher.
But her teacher, Miss Green, has a strategy to motivate students to improve: she likes to put up their test results for the entire class to see. She takes names off the tests, but the entire class knows whose scores are on the screen. The first test on the screen is Peter's; again, everyone knows it's his. Miss Green shows his current score, but then she compares his current score to his past two test scores. Students can see his growth. Leaving Peter's scores on the screen, Miss Green then adds Mary's test scores. She's doing well, and all students are happy to see Mary's scores improved from her previous scores. After comparing several other student scores, Miss Green places Martha's scores on the screen. Martha failed the test. Moreover, Martha's previous test scores, Ds, are compared to everyone else's scores that are on the screen. Miss Green lectures the class about how Ds and Fs are not acceptable; students need to do better. Martha hangs her head in shame.
Isn't this a horrible way to teach? I think so. In fact, there would be an outcry against this teaching method, yet, in a few weeks, this will be a reality for countless teachers, including at my school, across the country. Our test scores will be placed on a screen for all to see; we will be compared to other high schools in the district; and we will be told we need to "work smarter," "work harder," or other "motivational" words to let us know we are not doing our jobs sufficiently.
How do I know this? This is what happens each year at a beginning of the year faculty meeting. Granted, no one's names are on the screen, but we know who teaches which classes, which subjects. My colleagues and I dread this meeting; we feel shamed and humiliated. Many of us whose scores dropped this past year are already feeling stressed about having our scores placed in front of our faculty.
Why is it acceptable to shame and humiliate teachers? We work with a varying population: homeless students, students dealing with mental illness to wealthy students whose parents provide them every luxury. We work with a varying population: students who cannot read at grade level to students who read at a college level. We work with a varying population: students who care about learning to students who don't care about anything at all.
I teach AP Literature and Composition as well as IB senior English. For the sixth year in a row, I had a 100% test pass rate in IB. My AP Literature pass rate dropped to 55%. In fact, to provide context for this score, AP Literature pass rates dropped across the United States. Moreover, CollegeBoard has encouraged an "AP for All" mentality, so out of my 76 students, I would say more than half were not "AP material." Many could not read or write at grade level, which their PSAT and SAT scores will substantiate. None of this information will be presented at the "meeting of shame and humiliation."
IB senior English has a population of students who want to be in the class and who have the aptitude for the work. My AP class is different, therefore the results are different. Does this mean I am unfit to teach AP Literature? No, but I feel the message will be that I--and my colleagues--are not working hard enough or smart enough with our students, which is reflected in their test scores.
I have no answers, no solutions. But I do know this: a couple of test scores DO NOT measure the thinking or learning that took place over the course of a year. And it's a shame we value a test score over the work of a teacher.
Sunday, February 25, 2018
Teachers with guns? No thanks!
Each time there's a school shooting, everyone who knows best is front and center, telling the rest of us what will help these situations.
"Arm the teachers!" is the usual rallying cry, and this time, the president has joined in. Not only arm only the 'best' teachers, but let's give them a bonus, he has suggested.
Arming the teachers is a band-aid on a much greater problem, the problem of why people shoot up schools, churches, restaurants, college campuses, theatres. No one wants to delve into THAT problem. Instead, they cry, "Arm the TEACHERS!" for a few weeks, and then the hullabaloo dies down. People move on with their lives, until the next mass shooting occurs.
I have been inundated with all sorts of "experts" explaining to me what must happen: better access to mental health care, more guns, fewer guns. But no one seems interested in why people feel this deeply rooted anger than can only be expressed by killing others and then, usually, themselves.
My students and I talked about what's happening in our society this past week. I think they had better insights than the adults in charge of this country seem to have. They talked about disconnection from one another; why have an actual conversation when a text will do? They spoke about the stresses they feel about their futures, their schooling, their college choices. The pressures they feel from parents, friends, schools, and social media to be more than they are.
They told me they never really speak about their feelings or emotions to others, preferring instead to say they're "tired" rather than how they're truly feeling.
And I wonder about that statement. We don't really know people anymore. My students were hurting and scared, and yet we keep moving forward rather than take a moment to check in. We tell others to practice "self-care," but we don't identify what exactly it is. We allow others to sit and stare at their phones rather than communicate.
Ever been to the park and watched parents and their children? The children are running around, interacting with one another. Parents are on their phones. We're disconnected. We're polarized. We always have to be right (my students pointed this out to me--there's a fear of being wrong in our culture). We don't LISTEN anymore because we're always so busy thinking of our responses.
And where is kindness? Compassion? In fact, I accidentally bumped the car door of someone in a parking lot with my door. The woman started chewing me out. I apologized and apologized, but she wouldn't let it go. I didn't even damage her door. There wasn't a mark. Finally, as she continued to chew me out for something I really was sorry for, I lost my temper and told her to "FO." I should have simply walked away, especially because she wanted to continue to argue. But no, I gave into my anger and responded disrespectfully.
Arming teachers with guns doesn't treat anything. We need to truly investigate the true cause of people's discontentment, the why of why kill others, the root of the problem. Killing others on a mass scale isn't okay. But it's not guns or simply mental health. Those are part of the problem, but figuring out the entire problem should be our goal. Bipartisan investigation. Not arming teachers.
"Arm the teachers!" is the usual rallying cry, and this time, the president has joined in. Not only arm only the 'best' teachers, but let's give them a bonus, he has suggested.
Arming the teachers is a band-aid on a much greater problem, the problem of why people shoot up schools, churches, restaurants, college campuses, theatres. No one wants to delve into THAT problem. Instead, they cry, "Arm the TEACHERS!" for a few weeks, and then the hullabaloo dies down. People move on with their lives, until the next mass shooting occurs.
I have been inundated with all sorts of "experts" explaining to me what must happen: better access to mental health care, more guns, fewer guns. But no one seems interested in why people feel this deeply rooted anger than can only be expressed by killing others and then, usually, themselves.
My students and I talked about what's happening in our society this past week. I think they had better insights than the adults in charge of this country seem to have. They talked about disconnection from one another; why have an actual conversation when a text will do? They spoke about the stresses they feel about their futures, their schooling, their college choices. The pressures they feel from parents, friends, schools, and social media to be more than they are.
They told me they never really speak about their feelings or emotions to others, preferring instead to say they're "tired" rather than how they're truly feeling.
And I wonder about that statement. We don't really know people anymore. My students were hurting and scared, and yet we keep moving forward rather than take a moment to check in. We tell others to practice "self-care," but we don't identify what exactly it is. We allow others to sit and stare at their phones rather than communicate.
Ever been to the park and watched parents and their children? The children are running around, interacting with one another. Parents are on their phones. We're disconnected. We're polarized. We always have to be right (my students pointed this out to me--there's a fear of being wrong in our culture). We don't LISTEN anymore because we're always so busy thinking of our responses.
And where is kindness? Compassion? In fact, I accidentally bumped the car door of someone in a parking lot with my door. The woman started chewing me out. I apologized and apologized, but she wouldn't let it go. I didn't even damage her door. There wasn't a mark. Finally, as she continued to chew me out for something I really was sorry for, I lost my temper and told her to "FO." I should have simply walked away, especially because she wanted to continue to argue. But no, I gave into my anger and responded disrespectfully.
Arming teachers with guns doesn't treat anything. We need to truly investigate the true cause of people's discontentment, the why of why kill others, the root of the problem. Killing others on a mass scale isn't okay. But it's not guns or simply mental health. Those are part of the problem, but figuring out the entire problem should be our goal. Bipartisan investigation. Not arming teachers.
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