Today, in the State of Massachusetts , is the day when all fourth and seventh graders buckle down and take the MCAS long composition test. They have all day (if they would like) to write a personal narrative based on whatever prompt the state has issued.
Usually, the prompt is pretty convoluted. Last year’s seventh grade prompt was “Imagine you had the opportunity to live anywhere in the world for a year. Where would you live? Why would you choose this place to live? What would you hope to learn there?" On the surface, it seems pretty harmless, almost fun even. But think about the last question. How would you answer it? How is the average seventh grader supposed to answer that one?
The MCAS comes to us courtesy of the 1993 Massachusetts Education Reform Act. It followed the national trend toward measurable teaching standards and predicted the NCLB legislation. Initially it involved only a handful of tests at a handful of grade levels. Now it is immense. Testing in Massachusetts begins in the third grade and occurs annually until eighth grade. Then students have a year off from testing before they have to take MCAS again in tenth grade; this time as a graduation requirement. Between third and eighth grade, students are required to take two reading comprehension tests in March and two math tests in May. Fourth and seventh graders are required to take a writing exam as they are doing today. Eighth graders are given a science and technology exam in May. Up until a couple of years ago, there was a seventh grade social studies test. That (fortunately) was discontinued due to lack of funding.
Since September, my curriculum has been centered around MCAS preparation. The past two weeks have found the only words coming out of my mouth being related to the long composition. Before that, I jammed poetry into three weeks. How exactly do you instill a love of poetry into a three week crash course on style, format, and figurative language? Before that it was short stories. All of this with the fear that either genre will appear on the test, and I haven’t covered it.
That’s my primary complaint about the MCAS. The reading comprehension test of MCAS isn’t valid. In terms of test validity, a valid test is one that always tests the same skills. If a test is given repeatedly, annually, it needs to be testing the same skills in order to be valid. MCAS is not valid because it doesn’t test the same skills year after year. Generally, there is a non-fiction text on the test. Some years, the remaining selections are all non-fiction. Some years there will be a poem or two, and then some years there will be a play. It is never the same. So when we compare this year’s seventh graders (or any grade) with last year’s seventh graders, we’re really comparing Granny Smiths to Golden Deliciouses.
Another complaint I have is that the test does compare one year’s seventh (or any grade) graders scores to the next year’s seventh graders. That’s problematic for a couple of reasons. First, we’re not really checking for student growth then (although Massachusetts did add a monitoring system for student growth—not comparing, just monitoring). To do that we would need to look at seventh grade scores and compare it to the previous sixth grade scores or the next year’s eighth grade scores. If we’re not really interested in student growth, why test in the first place? Why have our kids take these tests if we don’t want to see how they improve or don’t improve over time? If we’re not monitoring growth, what are we monitoring? Teacher performance.
Another reason why this is problematic is that the test isn’t valid. If we’re comparing this year’s kids to last year’s kids, we’re already comparing different groups of kids with their different needs and strengths to one another. It would be a fair comparison if the test were valid. If this year’s kids were taking the same test as last year’s kids, it would be one thing. But last year’s kids were tested on drama…their predecessors were tested on poetry. This time we’re comparing tangerines to nectarines.
The test, however, is mainly fair. What’s done with the test once the kids have taken it is not valid, but the test is fair. It tests students only on what is in the Massachusetts ’ State Frameworks—our state academic standards. If I am doing my job, students should do well, right? If I teach everything I’m supposed to teach, and if I am a competent teacher, shouldn’t my kids automatically do well?
Um…yes and no. And this is a failure of both NCLB and The Race to the Top Fund. They’ve forgotten Maslow. In 1943, Abraham Maslow wrote a paper called, “A Theory of Human Motivation,” and this theory has a direct impact on schooling. Basically, Maslow said that we, as humans, are all needy. We order, subconsciously, our needs almost like a pyramid. At the bottom, the support of the pyramid, are our physical needs (food, shelter, warmth, health). Next up are our safety needs—both physical and emotional. Then there are our needs for belonging—family, friendship, romantic love. This is followed by our need for both self- and external esteem. And at the very top of the pyramid is self actualization in which education, in general, falls. It is common architectural knowledge, that if the bottom of the pyramid is not steady, sturdy, or strong, the rest of the pyramid will crumble.
So what’s the connection, then? MCAS or any other standardized test falls under self-actualization. How can students, of any age, succeed at a test if their other needs aren’t met? If they are coming to school hungry or cold, their physical needs outweigh and block out their self-actualization needs of performing for the state on the state exam. If kids aren’t safe at home or aren’t loved, what is their concern? No matter how I present poetry or how many writing tips I dispense, I cannot compensate for those needs that form the support for the pyramid. No matter how competent I am—and trust me; I’m pretty damned competent—how can I overcome those needs that can only be met at home?
NCLB, The Race to the Top Fund, and the ed reform that came before do not take this into account. The push is for teachers to teach more, to teach better, to jump through flaming hoops, but what is left for parents to do? Aside from bashing teachers, that is. It’s so much easier to blame someone else for your own failings. Not that all parents are bad or purposely neglectful. In fact a majority of parents do everything they can to nurture and care for their children to the best of their abilities. The honest truth though is that sometimes that’s not enough and sometimes that doesn’t happen. It is no coincidence that the schools in the poorest districts do the worst on standardized tests. It has very little to do with the quality of the teachers, because often times the teachers in those districts are the best and the brightest. Firing teachers and administrators in those districts, blaming them for their failure to improve doesn’t come close to solving the problem.
On the flip-side, though, are there teachers and school administrators out there who are not competent and who should probably be in some other line of work? Um…yes. There are. I think anyone of us can name at least three off the top of our heads. It’s the same with any profession. But understand this: No one goes into teaching because they are waiting to make the big bucks. We are all fully aware that—for at least most of our careers—we’ll have to work at least one extra job to keep ourselves and our families afloat. We do it because we love children and we have a passion for our subjects. We want to be where we are, doing what we do. Who, exactly, is better to be in the classroom? Someone who is waiting for the financial pay-off or someone who wants to be there to help the kids?
There are a lot of things I could write about education. I have only touched the surface of teacher bashing, the achievement gap(s), the ineffectual legislation governing education, etc….But right now my seventh graders are finishing up their long compositions and I’ve got to count tests and answer booklets. I’ve got to make sure I’ve collected all the number 2 pencils and highlighters. Maybe some of that could be fodder for tomorrow’s test session, or the next day or the two days we test in May…I’ll have the time since I won’t be teaching.
In the meantime, check this out:
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