It’s about passing tests

file0001110781475

“School isn’t about learning, it’s about passing tests.”

That was a comment I overheard from a ninth grade student recently.

Sadly, she’s right. At least in most schools and classrooms. Including mine.

The damaging impacts of high-stakes tests on teaching and learning are real. Personally, it has dramatically impacted my career over the last ten years. I’m brainwashed by these tests. Really. My lessons begin and end with thoughts of the NYS Regents exams. If it’s not on the test, I don’t teach it.

Through all this, do my kids learn mathematics? Probably. I can’t say for sure. But do they learn how to take tests on mathematics? Definitely. Make no mistake, there’s a widening divide between these two abilities.

This is not to say that tests themselves are necessarily the problem. They aren’t. In fact, there’s research that shows that tests can actually promote learning. Take a unit exam or exit slip, for example. In my case, students often complete these assessments individually. If students don’t do well, they can retake at any time, for any reason. There’s no pressure to do well on the first go around. You don’t get it? No big deal. Let’s find our weakness, improve, and try again. The focus of these assessments is learning.

This can’t be said for high-stakes tests. And herein lies my headache.

I know this is nothing new. I’m simply echoing the voices of millions of teachers all around this country. Ironically, though, what motivated this post wasn’t the countless adversaries of high-stakes tests, but the voice of one ninth grade student. She believes the purpose of school is to prepare her to fill in bubbles with a #2 pencil. This really bothers me.

The fact that she has devalued learning in the school setting – and reduced it to passing a test – is deeply troubling. And I know she’s not alone. It makes me seriously question how I’m contributing to this high-stakes epidemic.

 

bp

#MTBoS30

I totally stumbled upon this during the last couple of days, but I’ve decided to adopt a customized version of #MTBoS30. Right now, my writing isn’t efficient enough to squeeze in one blog post each day and still maintain a sense of normalcy with life. So instead, I’m committing to one deeply reflective Twitter post each day. This is something I don’t do enough of so, to a lesser degree, I hope the end result – writing, reflecting, growing, and sharing more – is similar to those that are blogging traditionally.

This will be a practical, yet challenging journey for me. Being succinct is an arduous task in itself, which I will embrace. Less is more.

Each of my #MTBoS30 Tweets will be embedded here, the most recent first.

 


HOT v. the most appropriate

Every now and then I’m confronted with the idea of asking higher order thinking (HOT) questions. A lot of teachers are. In fact, there seems to be an unhealthy infatuation with HOT questions in education.

Don’t get me wrong, HOT questions certainly have their place. They serve to connect ideas, broaden perspectives, and deepen understanding of the content being learned. I strive for HOT questions. Even if it’s indirect, the heart of any good lesson, I believe, revolves around them. They’re a must.

That said, there’s much, much more to questioning than HOT questioning. In fact, by placing so much focus on HOT questions, we can lose sight of how questions build off one another and their dependency on current levels of student understanding. What is the goal of the question? How will it lead to the next? HOT questions can be too demanding and, consequently, create a gulf between what is currently understood and what’s expected. Any question is entirely dependent on our students – nothing else. They must meet them where they are.

What I strive for is not necessarily asking more HOT questions, but finding the most appropriate questions given the context. “What” and “when” questions should not be frowned upon if they are frequently used during a lesson. Instead, we should be critical of the sequence of any and all questions we ask and how this sequence impacts students’ abilities to answer HOT questions.

 
bp

Teacher = engineer

file000884974361

Up until recently, I never thought of what I do everyday as engineering. I always felt that engineers were those highly intelligent, creative people who mastermind the things we encounter every day. Those solution-oriented folks that use mathematics, science, and their own insight to solve problems that impact a vast array of human needs. They were the engineers.

But what greater, more important engineer is there than a teacher? Don’t we create solutions that enable other humans to make meaning? Don’t we create moments of debate and wonder? Don’t we design learning? Don’t we make every other profession possible?

I think it’s fair to say that the average teacher doesn’t use differential equations or Ohms law or advanced mechanics to reach their kids. I get it. But the classroom is a complex system in which three powerful forces – content, management, and pedagogy – all interact in dynamic ways. We teachers attempt to make sense of these three forces and their relation to one another. We are critical of every moment – every thought – since each one has a momentous impact on the next. We use constraints and limitations, from learning styles to broken copy machines, to construct magical moments that alter lives.

And just like engineers, we fail. A lot. No matter how seasoned the teacher, expected learning doesn’t always happen. In fact, everything we do is trial and error. Good teachers know that the complexity of our work causes us to fail early and often.

Do I hope to imitate an actual engineer? No. Am I going to add “Learning Engineer” to my resume? Of course not. Besides, I hate titles. They clutter the real work that needs to be done.

But I know that there’s a gold standard when the term “engineer” is used. It symbolizes serious can-do thinking. What I aim for is to view teaching through the sophisticated lens of an engineer. To advocate for teachers as problem solvers whose success is contingent upon high levels of critical thinking, analysis, and creativity. To remind us that our work is inspired by discovering high leverage solutions for our classrooms – solutions that directly address a multitude of human needs.

Maybe not in the traditional sense, but, yes, teachers are engineers.

 

bp