NPR inspired thoughts

I usually start my moments in silence, after rising from sleep settling into a book with a bowl of cereal, bagel, or cup of coffee. But this morning, I was in my car and able to listen to NPR's Morning Edition. I really enjoyed this story, History of Papal Succession Filled with Colorful Men, Intrigue. A few winters ago, I read Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code, which included really mysterious details about the Vatican interior and ancient religious codes and order as they relate to the papacy and Catholic Church. There was also a good story about the new SAT scores.

Next Friday, April 22nd is "Writers in the School" Day here in Spokane, as part of the Get Lit! festival. I'm going to visit the Medicine Wheel Academy, an Indian Education program. The teacher has told me there are 25 students, 9th-12th grade. I asked for a unique assignment from the coordinator of the program who matches writers with teachers. I'm really looking forward to this.

Ironically, I found out from the teacher that the 22nd will be a WASL testing day...so the schedule for me coming needed to be revised from our original plan. Only 10th graders need to take the test, so I'm not sure how this will impact the class size that day. But the WASL (Washington Assessment of Student Learning) is probably one of the best examples of how the public school system works to establish conformity and emphasizes essay composition, over creative composition. I realize the benefits of the test, or rather, the aims and goals that the test is supposed to emphasize in regards to school curriculum and how teachers teach.

This is putting it nicely. I have some serious reservations about the pressure to "teach to the test" (though this is heavily denied by administrators, but teachers see through the facade and so do the kids). When I was teaching, I saw some very stupid decisions made by administrators who organized the testing. Once kids were divided into large, large groups and assigned to testing areas around the school...so instead of being in small classroom groups, some had to be in the cafetaria sitting on those awful hard, flat bench tables for hours with an assistant principal who barked orders (and who admitted his own inability to type!!! that's right, an AP who can't type!!)...and another group was in the performing arts center (where I had to help proctor) with its lush padded seats. But that was before the test was officially "official", like 1999 I think, and based on the students and faculty comments, and obvious ramifications of that ill-chosen plan, the next year's testing situation was much different. Of course, it still was not entirely thoughtful. Instead of having students who knew me, and vice versa, I was given a random alpha group of kids, 20 maybe, and my room was the consistent peaceful, calm, comfortable haven for them throughout the entire testing process.

(Check out this great site: Mothers Against the WASL . . . it looks interesting. My last school threatened to not let students get parking passes for the next school year if they didn't take the WASL test; this was to discourage the upper income suburban parents to not opt their kids out, as was happening in increasing numbers. That Lexus needs to be in the official parking lot, of course, not along the street!)

The best testing year was the one where I actually had my 4th period class of sophmores (minus a few because the numbers were high, so they were in other classes) and we met in our regular every day classroom (which didn't really feel like our classroom, because I was a traveling teacher, so I never had my own supplies, our own bulletin board, etc. and the previous semester we had been in a more cozy room that felt more like my classroom because I had it 4th-6th period--even though it was mostly controlled and decorated by the anal teacher who "owned" the room 1st-2nd periods). That was a whole other issue altogether. I hated that year being a "cart teacher."

Since I actually knew my students' abilities and motivation levels, I was able to cajole and encourage them in specific, individual ways, which I think ultimately helped them to try their best and led to higher scores than might have been earned otherwise. However, I never saw their scores because I resigned at the end of that school year to start my MFA program (the results usually don't come out until the next fall, to much media hoopla).

Shortly after that WASL test session, one of the brightest, nicest, most popular kid in that class was in a serious auto accident and in a coma. He survived but now has brain damage, forever altering his intelligence and capabilities. Last I knew, he was attending a different high school (a transfer decision that was made before the accident, because he was moving in with his dad) and was in Special Education classes. I remember giving a sheet of my patriotic exclamatory stickers to one of the boy's friends to give to him at the hospital, after he was out of his coma and recovery was more hopeful. I wrote on the back, "I hear you're getting an A+ in recovery! Keep it up!" This boy was always eager to get a good grade, and was usually always at the edge of an A-, almost an A, sometimes slipping to a B if he didn't complete his outside reading requirement (which was 10% of the overall grade). I can't imagine the frustration he must feel, not being able to think, comprehend, or read like he did before.