Why Standardized Tests Are Fine With Me

The room was hot, the proctors were mean, and the questions were hard.  On a humid Saturday morning at the tender age of 10, I was an anxious young girl in Jamaica, preparing to spend 5 consecutive hours in a windowless auditorium alongside hundreds of children seated neatly in rows of wooden desks, taking the Common Entrance Examination – the high-stakes test that would decide my educational fate, profoundly affect my readiness for a university education, and ultimately seal my chances for attaining a middle-class life.  Having done hours of homework each night for the preceding 3 years, and fresh from months of test-prep classes that had dashed my dreams of weekend sojourns to the beach, I was as ready as I would ever be. 

Of approximately 45,000 students who took the examination that year, less than 10,000 would earn a spot at one of the island’s college-preparatory high schools.  The test results were published in the national newspaper for all on the island to see, listing only the names of students who passed the test. Thankfully, my name was listed among the chosen few, and thankfully, the test that once hung over my family like a cloud, was also the driving force that gave my parents the sense of urgency and focus that led to my academic success.

I have spent the better part of a decade baffled by the anti-testing whining that I hear from some parents and teachers in our country. The whining comes from teachers unwilling to be held accountable for their work; teachers who try to sell us the notion of certain students being defective products incapable of academic success, or teachers who tell silly anecdotes about erstwhile brilliant children failing a high-stakes test because they were distraught about breaking up with their boyfriend, or losing their beloved puppy the night before.  Apparently, we're supposed to believe that such scenarios are commonplace enough to skew testing results and mask the reality of how much our children have actually learned.  Parents whine about the ills of testing too, trying to convince me that assessing a child's academic achievement is somehow robbing him or her of a happy childhood.  This leaves me confused, since I thought that one of the main purposes of parenting is to prepare a child for adulthood.  

Given what we know about the structure of our society, the demands of the knowledge economy, and the need to pass tests in order to advance in many of the nation's best careers, how can we even entertain the idea that testing should be drastically scaled back, or worse yet, cease?  Are we advocating for the wholesale abandonment of the SATs – the test that most selective colleges in America still require?  Do we want to get rid of the United States Medical Licensing Exam (USMLE) that physicians must take?  Are we suggesting that state bar examinations should be eliminated as one of the gatekeepers to the legal profession? Few voices are asking for the elimination of tests at the post-secondary level, yet this sentiment abounds in the K-12 arena.   

It is irresponsible and hypocritical for adults to minimize the importance of testing when we know that testing success is a requirement to enter the country’s most prestigious colleges and lucrative professions.  In the same way that a driving test provides crucial information about driver preparedness and offers a level of protection from bedlam and carnage on our streets, the results of standardized tests gives parents, teachers, school systems, and our nation, a barometer to measure the extent to which our children have been effectively taught, so that steps can be taken to stem the tide of social decline that will surely result from an uneducated populace.  I, for one, would hate to unleash my kids into the world without some inkling of how well they have been academically prepared by the schools I have chosen for them to attend.

There is clear evidence that if schools engage in the important, difficult work of aligning their curriculum to their state’s academic standards, training teachers to effectively deliver this curriculum, empowering principals to properly support their teachers, and providing customized supports for students who struggle the most, academic success is inevitable.  These levers should be our focus then, not the abolition of testing.   

Waiting for Supermom

How much do parents really matter to a child's achievement in school?  As I pore over essay responses submitted by prospective Newark Legacy teachers, I’m struck by the large numbers of applicants who, in their responses to our questions, cite parental factors as more relevant than teacher actions to students’ success.  When I read these kinds of answers, I typically veer in the opposite direction, without giving these candidates much further consideration.  Dismissive?  Perhaps, but good teaching matters tremendously, so if teachers don't believe in their own power, then I can't believe in them.    


A profile of three scholars at the school I lead - scholars who like 90% of our population live in homes with a single mother - provides a quick snapshot of the great outcomes that good teaching, and a learning-focused school community can yield.  Their stories should convince us all that great potential lies dormant in each child, regardless of the parents responsible for ushering them into the world.

A strong-willed boy with a winning smile, Jared* is an eight-year-old 2^nd grader in a class of 30 students and 2 teachers.  Though lacking a high school diploma, Jared’s mother is a bright woman, who has battled drug addiction and mental illness for several years.  She was drug-addicted at the time that Jared was born.  Jared’s father has been in and out of jail three times over the course of the past year and a half.  

Shayna*, a kindergartner we serve, has moved 4 times since the school year began.  In October, Shayna’s mother enrolled in community college, and has since stated that her own homework is more of a priority than her daughter’s.  Shayna’s mother now routinely sends Shayna to school without making sure that she has completed her homework.  We have also recently become aware that Shayna’s mother is in an intimate relationship where she has repeatedly been the victim of domestic violence. 

Finally, there’s first grader Leighton*.  Leighton’s mother enrolled him in our school about a week before the end of the last school year, amid pleas for me to overlook the fact that she had been combative with the principal of her son’s former school and as a result, she was forcibly removed from the school's premises by law enforcement and was later permanently banned from the building.  Leighton’s mother has neither a high school diploma nor a GED, and has not been gainfully employed in several years.  Barely able to read, Leighton’s eyes bulged in terror when we talked about all of the literacy activities he would have a chance to do in his 1^st grade class.

The circumstances of all these children beg the obvious question – are they, or are they not succeeding in school?  I'm happy to report that the answer is a resounding yes.  Jared has been the highest-achieving mathematics student in 2^nd grade, and a self-appointed peer counselor, often volunteering to “have a talk” with classmates who are having a hard time managing their anger.  Before Jared’s teacher began having lunch with him once per week, he had a frighteningly short fuse and had instigated several fights.   However, in a classroom environment defined by lots of nurturance and high expectations, Jared is thriving.  To look at Shayna’s profile is to view another example of success.  With three months remaining in the school year, Shayna has already made one and a half years growth in reading.  She doesn’t miss out on the extra practice that comes from doing homework because all Newark Legacy students who do not complete their homework at night are required to complete it the next day in lieu of recess.  As such, this is how Shayna occupies her recess time 2-3 days a week.  She's sometimes disappointed, but she understands that we care about her enough to support her academic success, by any means necessary.

Finally, Leighton, our most academically challenged scholar, has made tremendous progress.  After receiving one-on-one teaching  for 30 minutes a day, and more than 50 hours of supplemental literacy instruction in our school's after school academic support program, Leighton reads willingly, selecting books from the “G” bin in his classroom library - the level at which he can read with ease.  Leighton has become equally enthusiastic about participating in class, recently offering “hypernification”, as the answer to a question about figurative language.  Even though we chuckled privately, knowing that we’d never heard of such a word, Leighton’s 70% test grade convinced his teacher and I that he really does understand figurative language, and has a notion of what the words “hyperbole” and “personification” actually mean. 

While there are always a few students whose family circumstances consume them to such an extent that it severely compromises their ability to learn, the reality is that most students are like Jared, Shayna, and Leighton - proof points that even with less than enviable parental circumstances and a relative lack of parental support, children can and do excel.  Teachers who spend more time thinking about the influence of parents and less time thinking about the potential of their own clout, will have a hard time leading disadvantaged students to success.  Teachers don’t earn their credentials so that they can focus on external drivers affecting a student’s learning.  Rather, they become educators so that they can channel their energies on the internal factors within a classroom and a school that can be manipulated to lead to student success.

Teachers must deeply believe in the magnitude of their own power to change every single one of their students’ lives, and they must be willing to work very, very hard to make this change happen.  Otherwise, the schooldays of their students may well be defined by lowered expectations and inadequate rigor, paving the way for failure to rear its ugly head.  

*In the interest of confidentiality and respect, the names of each scholar, and some of their identifying characteristics, have been changed.

The Mandate of Great Teaching and Why We Should Help

During my first year of teaching, I used to joke with my fellow third grade teachers that I was going to sign my biweekly paycheck over to my student Jovan*, my comical way of acknowledging that Jovan was the person who was actually doing the work of controlling my class. Making light of the matter masked the pain and frustration that I felt day after day and week after week, when I would walk into my classroom determined to take control of the space, only to be routinely upstaged by a nine year old who hadn’t yet mastered long division.  

A mischievous boy, Jovan was particularly adept at veering his classmates off course in the middle of my lessons.  His strategies varied from peppering the room with inappropriate jokes, to blurting out outlandish answers to questions.  He was also notorious for deliberately falling over in his chair daily, or drumming a popular hip-hop beat on his desk during a silent period.    Jovan knew how to command everyone's attention, and try as I might, all that year, I never learned how to do that better than him.

A new year began and Jovan was no longer in my class, but I was assigned to teach two other children whose behavior was even more disruptive than his had been on his very worst day.   I tried and tried to take control, but I had no framework, no clear directives, and no consistent feedback to tell me specifically where I needed to improve.  After just a year and a half in the profession, I was weary and worn, and there appeared to be no light at the end of a very dark tunnel.  I decided that the only way to preserve my sanity and to stop doing a disservice to twenty innocent children was to quit teaching, which is just what I did. 

Luckily, my friend, and then-professor, Lisa Delpit didn’t allow me time to engage in self-pity or to internalize defeat.  Instead, she urged me to get back into the classroom, which I did very soon thereafter, but not before engaging in honest self-reflection, then arming myself with action plans and schedules and strategies to manage my classroom, engage my students, and most importantly, facilitate significant academic growth. 

More than a decade later, some would say that we are living in a different time.  No one can argue that our computers are now fancier, that Facebook and Twitter have captured our imaginations, and that our country is living under the leadership of its first African American president.  However, step foot into the average American classroom, and you will discover that time has stood painfully still.  

Thousands of teachers are still struggling with minimal assistance from their school leaders and no clear road map for success.  They have thrown their hands up in exasperation and despair, ceding defeat to the children and the circumstances that have derailed them from managing their classrooms and teaching effectively.   Fortunately, this doesn't have to be so.

Though fodder for endless criticism, it is an undeniable truth that the highest-performing charter school networks in the US  - networks such as KIPP, Achievement First and Uncommon Schools, create environments in which teachers are constantly being observed, not solely for scrutiny's sake, but for the explicit purpose of providing feedback so that the teacher can improve his or her craft.  These schools also establish a path for teachers to follow - a series of unambiguous actions that will lead to successful teaching.  In the present climate of rampant academic failure, no critic of education can be taken seriously if s/he is not willing to engage in a meaningful evaluation of this teaching and learning paradigm, since it is a paradigm that has yielded quantifiably positive results.

At Newark Legacy Charter School, a school that I founded and presently lead, teachers are observed much more frequently than they would be in a traditional public school, though not nearly as frequently as I would like.   However, the teachers are given clear rubrics and frameworks to follow.  So, with the help of a flip camera that they can use to record their own teaching, teachers can engage in frequent self-evaluation and single-handedly ramp up their own improvement.  This framework brings new meaning to the term "self-reflection", because it provides a level of objectivity that is not possible with simply a journal and a pen.  Through review of live footage, teachers can assess their attitudes, actions, reactions and overall demeanor in the classroom.  It is a scary way to come to terms with one's strengths and weaknesses.  However, while the teacher's vulnerability increases, the opportunity to help students learn by improving that teacher's practice increases as well.

The crux of the matter is that in spite of all the variables that can and do affect student outcomes, better is possible, and the teaching force will be the ones who lead the way.  The time has come for us to stop blaming the Jovans of the world for exerting their power, because in the absence of effective systems and clear authority, we are all Jovan.  The time has also come for us to stop blaming Jovan's parents for his behavior, 1) because when parents know better they do better, and 2) because blame is not a strategy.  And, to the extent that we do, the time has come for us to stop vilifying teachers, since most are battle-weary and woefully lacking an updated playbook from any winning team.

The urgent mandate of educating our children requires us to be solution-focused and maniacal about using and refining strategies that work, beginning with a focus on building a classroom culture, because without a spirit-affirming, well-managed classroom, optimal learning will not occur.   Once an appropriate learning environment has been established, teachers must use high-yield teaching strategies, and they must plan lessons that facilitate ongoing data collection on student understanding and achievement.  Finally, teachers must use the data they collect to determine how to move forward with instruction.   A tall order?  Undoubtedly, but America's children deserve our very best efforts.  

As some of you are reading this, many others are sipping lattes at Starbucks, while engaging in lofty discussions about how to solve the ‘education problem’.  In the meantime, our teachers are on the front lines making an impact, be it good or bad, on the lives of our youth.   For this reason, all of us who purport to care about the children must engage in a concerted effort to help these teachers to succeed, or at the very least, we must be supportive of those who are leading the charge.

* While I describe real events and a real student I had during my first year in the classroom, Jovan is a pseudonym for the student whose behavior I write about in this piece.