Wednesday, June 6, 2012

A collective sigh of relief

Other than the makeups tomorrow, our big bad state test is done.  Now just 10 more school days to kill with a project and final exams and award ceremonies and field trips.

There are a lot of things to be angry about at school, but I get angriest about things like the logistical disasters surrounding state testing.  It just feels like people are dropping the ball and it's seriously impacting kids' performance.  I've been working my tail off to get kids ready, and a lot of the kids have been working really hard too.  And then three separate test rooms didn't have calculators for the kids to use, and the test proctors somehow didn't know they were supposed to get calculators, even after my students raised their hands and asked for them.  It is infuriating.

On the bright side, fewer of my kids had to take the test in the giant cafeteria room, and those who did, had no more than 2 kids per table (last year it was 3) and they said it was fairly quiet (last year they reported a lot of talking).  And all of my special ed kids, whose IEPs state they are legally obligated to a small test room, actually got it this year (last year they were all packed into the cafeteria 3 to a table, while 30 of my non-IEP kids had their own tables in small rooms... this was ILLEGAL and I am still completely furious about it).  So, the improvements are good.  I am afraid that the calculator fiasco will result in a discontinuation of the small test rooms, when really it should cause better test proctor training.  And maybe the testing rooms and proctor names could be distributed more than 12 hours before the test.  These are the infuriating things.  It seems like fixing these issues should be the easy part, compared with the difficulty of teaching "at-risk" "urban" students.

Anyway, there were a few bright spots nonetheless.  A lot of students told me the test was easy, which either means they did really well or they didn't really read the questions and they bombed it.  J from 5th period told me that when she was unsure, she just imagined my voice reading the answer choices, and "picked the one that sounded like what you would say."  This is hilarious, and hopefully it works out for her.

I proctored the test to 10 R2/R3 IEP kids, six of whom were my students.  One of them, J from my homeroom, absolutely aced the open response questions and probably the multiple choice too, and will be my first IEP kid to score proficient (or maybe advanced???).  One of Ms. G's students, C, plodded through the test and then quietly thanked me so sweetly and earnestly for bringing Jolly Ranchers.

And even amid the calculator fiasco there were bright spots.  In one test room, proctored by a history teacher, my student E gave the proctor so much attitude regarding the lack of calculators that the proctor sent someone to find calculators for them.  I am sure she could have advocated for herself in a more appropriate and respectful way, but I am proud that she knew what she was entitled to and stuck to her guns.  On the opposite end of the self-advocacy spectrum, in a room where the proctor essentially told the kids to quit complaining and take the test without calculators, my beloved student R brilliantly stalled for time until the normal test session ended, so he could finish in the extra time room where he was given a calculator.  He is too mild-mannered to contradict the proctor after he asked once, but he is cagey enough to find a way to get what he needs anyway.  That kid is going places out of sheer persistence, and I can't think of an obstacle that will stop him.

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