The Stand Not Taken

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.  If we could settle down and get started, we’ve got a lot of information to cover.”

Throughout the library, teachers and administrators found their seats and quieted down to listen.  The principal waited until the noise in the room had ceased, and then smiled at the faculty.

“It’s great to see you all here today, and I hope you all had a great, restful summer, and that you are all ready to have a great school year!”

There was a general smattering of largely halfhearted applause.  He waited until it died out before continuing.

“As you know, there are many new changes for this year, coming down to us from the school board, the state board of education, and the federal government.  Most of these revolve around testing.”

Groans and grumbling spread around the room, prompting him to raise his hands in a placating gesture.

“I realize that a lot of you have some concerns about Common Core, and about all the new tests that have been added to the previous tests, and about how we will have to adjust the curriculum to accommodate all the new tests, and the diagnostics for those tests, and all the prep for the tests.  I just want to reassure you that we won’t be doing any of that this year.”

The susurrus of complaints was silenced, and a confused hush fell over the crowd of teachers.

“I’m sorry, what exactly won’t we be doing this year?” asked a querulous voice.

“We will not be participating in any test preparations and diagnostics this year,” the principal replied evenly.

For a moment, there was only silence, and then a mighty uproar reverberated around the room.  Many applauded, others cheered, while a sizable number shouted confused questions.  That year’s crop of new teachers sat dumbfounded, utterly perplexed and unprepared for this chaos.

The principal spent several minutes gesturing for quiet and reassuring people that their questions would be answered.  Finally he was able to return them to enough of a semblance of order to address them.

“Now I know this is confusing, but this year, I have decided that we are going to take a stand.  For the last fifteen years, we have been working harder and harder to prepare our students for the state standardized tests.  For fifteen years, we have done everything possible to help the students pass this single test, even when those efforts have been at the expense of other, more valuable aspects of students’ educations.”

Around the room, teachers nodded vigorously and muttered ‘amen’, as if he were preaching the Word.  Many women began fanning themselves from sheer habit as he continued

“We have given up lunch hours, stayed after school and come in on Saturdays for tutoring sessions.  We have offered all kinds of incentives to the kids for passing, we have had outreaches and open house nights to involve the parents, and we have worked tirelessly to encourage these kids, admonishing them to do their best and never give up.”

Many brows furrowed at these comments; teachers who had given so much of themselves outside of classroom time were proud of what they had accomplished, and were in no rush to quit their efforts and abandoned those students who needed help.  The prinicipal was quick to reassure them.

“These are all fine things, and I believe we need to keep doing them.  We have seen some amazing success stories emerge from these programs, and there are many kids who never would have passed without your tireless efforts.  I would not ask any of you to do any less for these students.  But…” Here his tone became more somber and stern.

“That is not all we have done in the name of raising test scores, is it?”  Heads shook darkly around the room.  “We have sacrificed nearly everything else of value in a public education to chase the elusive dream of increasing test scores.  We have scheduled students based almost entirely upon this single criterion alone, haven’t we?  We created entire new courses for those students with poor test scores, year-long classes based entirely around preparing them for one single test, forcing them to waste an entire years of their school career taking these meaningless courses that do nothing but drill them in the narrow set of skills required for passing the test, skills with no other practical purpose in their lives, haven’t we?”

The teachers in the reading department all shifted uncomfortably in their seats as their fellow teachers cast furtive glances in their direction.

“In exchange, we have stripped electives and humanities from the curriculum to make room for test prep.  We’ve gutted the visual arts, music, drama, literature, and creative writing.  Band programs, chorus programs, arts programs, the Drama Club; we’ve thrown all of them under the yellow bus in the pursuit of higher test scores.  But it’s not just the humanities; we’ve almost entirely abandoned those electives that taught practical life skills as well.  Auto shop, metal shop, wood shop, home economics, engineering courses; they’ve dried up and been blown away by the winds of change.”

Tears welled up in many eyes, as they thought of a generation of children whose education had been plundered.

“You’ve been forced to alter your curricula, giving up class time you would have used to teach your content areas to instead focus on test prep, asking teachers to hand out reading comprehension articles that have nothing to do with their subject areas, burying the kids in so much mindless, tedious busywork that they now see reading as a punishment, a grinding chore that robs the written word of any beauty or grace.”

“But even worse, in teaching them ‘test taking strategies,’ we stopped teaching them how to actually read.  We’ve taught the students to read the questions first and then skim the article for the information.  Think about how monstrous that is: to force an English teacher to ever tell a student that the best idea is not to read.  It’s unthinkable what we’ve done to these students’ chances for success in higher education.  But those kids don’t even count in this model, do they?”

“We abandoned our higher level students, dropping courses like Physics and Advanced Placement courses, all to make room for extra remedial classes for the lowest performing students, denying the higher level kids opportunities that could have propelled them to greater heights of success.  But instead we only care about getting enough of the lowest performing students to go up a single level on that one test, just so we can maintain a passing grade for our school.”

Few teachers’ eyes were dry by this point, and many hung their heads, weighed down by the realization of what had been lost in the last decade.

“And what has it gotten us?  Every year we put on this song and dance, we beg, we bribe, we cajole and we threaten just to get the kids to show up and do their best, and what do we have to show for all this effort?   Have we ever seen any significant jump in student performance?  Have we seen any real change in the general percentage of kids who pass the test?  Has there ever been more than a minor incremental increase or decrease in the scores, that wasn’t within the standard variation that any reasonable person would expect?  I don’t need to tell you.”

“We’ve given up advanced classes, we’ve given up enrichment, we’ve given up time in our classrooms, we’ve given up content area materials, we’ve given up our very standards.  And in return we’ve gotten nothing but heartache.  It’s just not worth it.”

“So we aren’t going to do it.”

A riot of applause and cheers broke out, and lasted for several minutes.  Teachers hugged each other and passed around boxes of tissues for wiping eyes.  But severeal skeptical teachers were able to shout their questions over the hubbub.

“Are you saying we won’t give the test?  How can a child prove proficiency to the state?  They won’t be eligible for a diploma without a test score.”

The principal was undeterred.

“Of course we will give the test.  On the required dates, we will administer the test, and we will modify the bell schedule those days, but only on those days.  We will not be administering the fall diagnostic, and we will not be administering the winter diagnostic.  Those days, rather than altering the bell schedule and taking kids out of class to take a meaningless diagnostic, we will instead have regular school days, where they will be in actual classes, doing actual class work.”

“What about all the test prep materials we get from the county?”

“Ignore them.  Teach your actual curriculum.”

“What about reading classes?” asked a woman wearing a blue dress decorated with apples and dangly earrings in the shape of pencils.

“All reading classes are canceled.  You are being reassigned as remedial English teachers.  You will continue to work with students who need help, you will simply be teaching them using literature selections and grammar lessons, not test prep articles and practice tests.”

“Aren’t you afraid that some children will fail?”

“Yes.  Some children will fail.  That is simply the reality in which we live.  A 100% passing rate is utterly unrealistic and every sane person in this room knows it.  But I don’t believe any significant number will fail because we didn’t bury them with the insane amounts of test prep nonsense as we have in the past.  If a student does not pass the 9^th grade test, he or she will be placed in a remedial course for 10^th grade.  This will be an actual English or math class, and will reinforce the necessary skills in context, not merely as practice for a specific test.”

“But without diagnostic tests to show student progress, our school grade could go down!”

“So what?”

There was silence.  He faced his audience, looking them each in the eye.

“Seriously, what’s going to happen to us if our grade drops?”

“Um,” began one voice, “if our grade drops down low enough, won’t that mean we lose some funds?”

“Possibly,” the principal conceded, “but that won’t affect teacher pay, or any of our important facilities like free and reduced lunches for students.  The money we lose will be made up in all the money we won’t be spending on mountains of test prep materials or ‘incentives’ for the students to show up on diagnostic days.”

One teacher, an older woman with ramrod posture and a severe face stood up and asked in a clipped voice “what will you do if this school earns an F, and is labeled a failing school?”

The principal nodded gravely at her.  “Then we will fail with honor.”

“I am not given to accepting failure,” she said, her eyes narrowing, “not from my students, and certainly not from myself.”

“But we already have.  Don’t you see?  Don’t all of you see?  None of us here got into this profession to prepare students to pass tests.  We became teachers to actually teach students real information.  To give them skills that they could one day use in the real world.  To teach as we ourselves had been taught, to prepare them, not just for college, but for anything that life puts in their path.  To give them the solid foundation of learning, so that when they leave high school, they will know how to learn, how to research and analyze information and build upon what they already know to make that knowledge their own.  To make them well rounded people and better citizens.”

“But we have been failing at that task.  We have not been educating these children.  We’ve followed orders passed down from politicians who neither know nor care about the real situation.  We’ve surrendered our professional dignity in going along with a system we knew was counter to the needs of the students.  And you did it because we made you.”

“But that’s all going to stop.  I am your principal, and it is my responsibility to make the best decisions I can for my teachers and my students.  And that’s what I am doing today.  I am ordering you to ignore everything I told you in the past and instead to teach the children to the very best of your ability.”

The ensuing applause was shattered by a high-pitched, reedy, whining noise, like a blaring alarm.  In response, the windows of the library burst in, as men in black tactical garb descended on ropes, submachineguns in their hands, and Department of Education markings on their body armor.

“EVERYBODY WAKE UP!”

“Huh?”

“I said wake up honey.  It’s time to get up for school.”

Blearily, the teacher opened his eyes and disentangled himself from the sheets, as he reached out and silenced the blaring alarm clock.  Outside the window was the predawn darkness of another school day.

“Get up honey, remember today is the diagnostic test.  Do you have to proctor?”

“Yeah, first period.  It runs for four hours.”

“I thought you had a class that hour?”

“I do.  They will be sitting in the gym while I am proctoring the math test.”

“But you teach English!”

“I know honey.  I know.”