Okay, so now that school is finishing up for everyone, I
think we can all take a huge sigh of relief and be glad certain aspects are
behind us for a while, especially all the tests. I have certainly taken, given,
and analyzed my fair share of tests, and it wasn’t until this spring that I found
myself truly anxious about them. For one thing, I’ve always been a skeptic when
it comes to standardized tests. I’ve seen many bright students of all ages do
poorly for various reasons, and knew beyond all doubt that the test didn’t
reflect the student’s level of understanding, or their ability to be successful
in the next level of study. I can hear several of my former students and their
parents shouting “Amen” right now.
Well, for all my thoughtful, mature perspective on the
matter, I fell into the trap! Brody (my 4th grader) went back to his old school
a few weeks ago for a few days to take the standardized test he’s taken every
year since first grade, which has never made me anxious before because I always
knew he was learning what he should and that he was a very intelligent,
thoughtful child. However, I turned into helicopter mom. The poor child got in
the car with me every afternoon only to face a barrage of questions. “What was
on the test today? Did you know the answers? Were there any fractions? Any decimals?”
I was so terrified he was going to have to do decimals (because that was the
last unit in his book and we hadn’t gotten to it yet), that I actually sat him
down the Monday morning before he left and gave him a short lesson on how to
add and subtract decimals and how to identify their place value.
So why did the test freak me out this year? Because, I realized
it wasn’t testing him, it was really testing ME! I kept wondering all year if
we were studying the right things, if I was testing him enough, and what would
I do if he went in and completely bombed the standardized test he had always
done so well on? Well, we got the results back, and I saw that he was fine…well,
mostly. His grammar score did go down, and I should take responsibility for
that because we didn’t work too heavily on that this year. But I realized something
MUCH MORE IMPORTANT.
See, here’s the thing, I’ve always loved being a part of the
educational system, and I have a passion for teaching kids math. I’ve also been
very alarmed at the direction our schools are taking in their choices for
curriculum and teaching methods. Now, I’m not getting on my soapbox here,
because my point isn’t really about all the political nonsense going on in our
country or our educational system. We’ll deal with that later.
My point is that no one knows my child like I do, and I am capable and
responsible for measuring him according to God’s standards, not the world’s.
The reality check came for me in two parts. I was reading a
story out of Texas where many people are challenging the standards that have
been adopted in the past couple of years. This is going on in many states as
people are starting to realize all the dangers in the Common Core Standards.
What I found completely baffling was a quote by a mother who wanted to keep the
standards, because if they got rid of the standards, how would she know whether
her child was learning what he should and where he stood in relationship to
other kids his age.
I just kept thinking, why are we so willing to accept the
measurement of our children given to us by others? Why do we see ourselves as
unqualified to assess whether or not they are growing and learning as they
should? We’re their parents! Not only
are we capable of evaluating our children, it is our responsibility, and we
have no business passing it off to someone else. Now, I don’t mean everybody has
to abandon the educational system and homeschool their kids. But I do think we
should find a way to leave behind all the craziness of the Standardized Testing
World. It’s like an alien planet that has kidnapped all the kids and teachers
then sucked out their joy of learning and ability to be creative or even
curious. The whole school year has become this monotonous march to the dreaded
EOCT (or whatever test your kids are taking). No wonder kids hate school.
The final part of my reality check came just two nights ago.
Lately, Fox has been going through a stage where he doesn’t want to sleep by
himself. Most nights, Brody either says no to letting Fox sleep with him, or begrudgingly
agrees if I bribe him. Well, that night I had put them to bed separately, but
thirty minutes later I turned off the tv and heard their little voices talking.
I started to go up and fuss at them, but then I stopped on the stairs and
listened. Brody was in Fox’s room reading to him from the Bible that used to be
his, but is now Fox’s Bible.
My heart just melted listening to Brody’s sweet voice
answering questions about God from Fox. And it hit me that it really doesn’t
matter if he makes great scores on some stupid standardized test created by
some strange person in the distant land of the Kings of Education that neither
knows him nor values him. What truly matters is that I help him learn to
measure himself against the standards set by God, who does know him and has
loved him since before the foundation of the world.
I am not out to raise a kid that meets the standards of this
world, and I am so extremely blessed that I got to spend all the days of the
school year watching him learn and grow, both in his intelligence and his
spiritual maturity. I pray that more and
more parents will realize that they can let go of their anxious fears for their
children, and begin to value their own ability to assess what’s truly
important.
Martin Luther King Jr. dreamed of a day when his children
would not be judged by the color of their skin, but the content of their
character. Our kids spend so much of their time being measured. And even though
King’s statement was about skin color, I think the general message can apply to
just about any kind of measurement we give power to. Let’s stop giving so much power to the world’s
standards.
And that, folks, is your WWW for the day!
P.S. When I was talking to my husband the other day about the blog, he asked me, "So where does all this wisdom come from?" I realized he probably wasn't the only one who didn't understand where the name of this blog comes from. It's actually from a joke I started with my middle school math students many years ago. When I lectured them about life, I would always end it with, "And that's your Westall's Words of Wisdom for the day." It was then shortened to WWW. I began joking around with them that I should start a blog, and its address would be www.www.com. The idea was to post all my lectures so they would always have them if they needed a refresher. Anyway, so when I finally got around to starting the blog, the name seemed fitting. So, hopefully you understand it's not coming from a place of vanity, but from an affectionate connection with my former students.
