The "WTH" of Assessment: Lord, Give me Strength. . .

So, report cards came out today. Thank goodness Rick was the first to retrieve it so Audrey didn’t see me explode. As noted in previous blogs, we have the unfortunate circumstance that our child is subjected to a teacher that uses assessment instead of actually teaching – something I brought to the attention of the school administration and about which nothing has been done.

So, what’s the harm in assigning grades to stupid worksheets that don’t align with clear objectives, aren’t the products of actual instruction, and seem to make little or no sense? Well, the power of a number is that it implies certainty – something the clueless and cowardly in life cling to. It empowers the cowardly to make unwarranted claims about those under their supervision. It further disenfranchises those parents who feel they can do nothing in the face of the all-powerful teacher. The fact that she talks down to them all only reinforces their fears. So, there is power in numbers, and the unscrupulous teacher will use that power over students, parents, and whoever else may get in her way. Who cares if those numbers mean absolutely nothing?

Yes, I’m ranting. I’m angry. I’m angrier than I have ever been about a teacher – and believe me, I’ve been angry about teachers. As an administrator, it was my “job” to help struggling teachers, but it was also my job to career counsel some the hell out of the school if they were hurting kids. I believe it’s my moral obligation to be angry. As Freire reminds us, we have the obligation to be angry because of our capacity to love. If we love kids, then we MUST be angry when we see teachers hurting them.

Now, Audrey is not “hurt” by the report card. Not this time. And if we are forced to endure this woman for the year, she will never see a report card – at least as long as they continue to say absolutely nothing about what she does and does not know about second grade skills and competencies. My child will NEVER define herself by what this woman puts down and calls grades. But, I think about the other children in the class – those whose parents don’t realize how meaningless these grades are. How many children tonight are getting scolded or spanked because of these grades? How many children feel less about themselves because they’ve seen the grades and their parents have “explained” that it means they’re dumb?

Let me interrupt this rant to give you a bit of context. After all, how are you to know the extent to which I’m justified in my rant without the full back story? Audrey got a D, yes a D in “CATS” which we can only assume involves science and social studies – subjects the principal herself admitted aren’t taught because of NCLB. What was the basis for this grade? ONE worksheet on bus safety that had bizarre and confusing pictures with a cut and paste activity. Audrey brought it home – having missed 2/6 – upset because the pictures were so confusing. She shared with us how the images could mean more than one thing that that she was confused. I will now pause for this to soak in. A school does not teach science or social studies. Nevertheless, they have a “box” in which a grade must be placed. A teacher shows a film, passes out ONE worksheet, grades it, and then lets that one worksheet count for the entire quarter’s science and social studies grade – bus safety, mind you – hardly science OR social studies.

Moving on. . . . Audrey got a B in spelling. We’re not parents that insist on As because our child is brilliant. Please keep that in mind. We reviewed the grades on-line (which, by the way, privileges those parents who have access to Internet at home in a community with 50-60% poverty, but I digress), and discovered that her 85% was the result of three things: getting a 70% on her first spelling test because she forgot her punctuation on her dictation sentences (which, by the way, were never taught or practiced before the test and have absolutely nothing to do with spelling), a worksheet where she got a 70% because she used words from the larger spelling list instead of those relegated to a particular word box, and (the clincher) a 40% on a paper where she answered each fill-in-the-blank correctly, spelled each word correctly, but on the word box she underlined the words vs. circling them, and after all, the directions said to circle them before putting them in the sentences. She didn’t even put the grade on the paper because she knew we would scream – instead she tried to hide it in the grades on the computer and then averages it in with the rest.

So yes, I’m angry. I’m angry not only for my child but also for the 24 other children who must endure this “award winning” teacher. I’m angry about the parents who feel helpless tonight. I am angry about how this teacher will talk down to them Thursday night when she meets with them in parent conferences (by the way, we declined our conference) – the same way she talked to them on Parent Night. I am angry that the administration will not touch this 37-year veteran even though we are bringing up case after case of inhumane treatment of children. I am most angry about how other children in this class will begin to see themselves as a result of the utterly unprofessional and immoral acts of this woman.

Deep breaths. I know in some objective realm of “me” that this will pass and in one way or another Audrey will ultimately be “o.k.” It will take a LOT of work and perhaps a LOT of reinforcement to assure her that she is not the sum of her horrid second grade experience. I can’t help to think, though, that some of those 24 kids will not be o.k. This will be the beginning of a downward spiral regarding how they see themselves and how their parents see them. That’s what keeps me up at night.