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.
