Welcome to Teaching That Makes Sense!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Bad Tests Happen to Good Students

A tentative but tenacious teacher struggles and eventually succeeds with workshop-style teaching in her second grade classroom

by Julie Bumgardner with Steve Peha

 

Steve Peha: The experience Julie relates here, I'm sad to say, is all too common these days. In the spirit of ed reform, a small number of teachers like Julie have taken it upon themselves to bring their teaching in line with research-based "best practice." But in so doing, they find that the abilities and attitudes their students develop run counter to what they are tested on. Ironically, the very skills that are so highly valued in our universities, in the workplace, and in our communities (individual initiative, personal accountability, "outside the box" thinking, real world creative problem solving, emotional intelligence, team play, constructive cooperation, etc.) often prove detrimental to a student's success on tests. What's even worse is that teaching these things can actually hamper an educator's ability to rise in his or her career.

Hey, Kids! Guess What Time it Is?

Julie Bumgardner: The time is upon us to test, test, test: we have a packet of post tests given to us by Title I and the district office for tabulating data on student progress in reading and writing; we have all the report card tests including math and language; other grade levels have state standardized tests. Some parts of the building are so filled with test stress I'm surprised the windows haven't blown. The principals were chewed out and were told to chew us out ("If you're not willing to do this, and if you're not willing to do that..." We wouldn't even be here, I replied under my breath). And so began my Thursday with a sour feeling throughout.

The district wants the numbers, in each classroom, of how many students are a year or more below grade level in reading. Third grade wanted to meet with us (2nd grade) to give us a list of guidelines to follow and to try to squeeze into our teaching in order to prepare next year's 3rd graders for the MAP (the big state test), the results of which can determine student placement, district accreditation, and Title I funding. Some of this test prep included responding to writing prompts, answering two-part questions, how to repeat back information read, etc.

I was not aware of the level of stress in the building until I talked to some of the other teachers about it (which made me feel a little guilty for not being aware, yet glad that I wasn't a part of it.) Whether I like it or not, tests must be taken, scores recorded, and results sent back to the district. It's just part of how things are right now and there doesn't seem to be much that anyone can do about it.

Steve: I know exactly how you feel, Julie, and you're not alone. Just about everyone in all the schools I work with seems to feel pretty much the same way. It's a hard time to be a teacher and, I suppose, a hard time to be a kid, too. As for me, I try to take a practical perspective about testing. I think the tests are not as hard as they seem. If everyone started working together instead of complaining so much, and if we all got clear on the kinds of effective teaching practices teachers like you are pursuing, scores would go up and we'd all be under a lot less pressure. After all, people don't mind taking tests so much when they think they're going to do well on them. But, for the moment at least, you're certainly accurate in your assessment of the tension and the negative effect that tension is having on teachers and kids.

The Problem is...

Julie: In our Writer's Workshop we don't really do any prompted writing. Kids write better when they pick their own topics, and since helping them write better is the goal, this is what we do. But all of a sudden it seemed that prompted writing was the only thing that mattered: the Title I test I had to give included a prompt, the 3rd grade teachers asked us to practice writing to prompts; this is the only kind of writing the district seems interested in, and it looks like the kids are going to have to face them often throughout their remaining years in school.

Even though I don't use prompts in my own teaching, I figured my kids ought to know how to deal with them. I also thought it was important for them to learn how to answer test questions in the contrived academic forms that would be acceptable to those doing the scoring. Deciding to do this was hard for me because I don't agree with this type of assessment. Specifically, I don't agree that these tests accurately measure student writing ability because students are not going to "really write" when forced to write about a particular topic, especially if they have little to say about it. This kind of testing only assesses how well students respond to arbitrarily selected test questions on a given day, a situation that few of us ever face in our real lives (unless we end up on some silly game show!), and that I would never intentionally create in my classroom. Still, this was something they had to do, and I wanted them to do as well as they could, so I introduced the idea to them in a mini-lesson on writing to prompts.

Steve: The position you take here, of deciding to prepare kids for tests even though the preparation and testing run counter to your instincts, is for me the appropriate position to take. Teach in accordance with "best practice" research throughout the year and spend a small amount of time, right before testing begins, to introduce students to the particulars of the test format.

For me, it's easiest to think of writing for a test as just another genre of writing. We do genre studies all the time. We teach kids about fiction, about poetry, about journalism, and many other kinds of writing. Why not treat test writing this way, too? Whether we like it or not, it is a kind of writing kids will encounter. And even if its only purpose is to sort people into categories, we can still teach kids about this so they can have some control over the categories into which they are sorted. Most of the time, when we do a genre study in reading or writing, we take 2-4 weeks of class time at the most. So it seems to me that we need not take any more time than this to prepare kids for testing. We certainly don't need to "teach to the test" all year long.

Boy, Was I Surprised When...

Julie: I started out by explaining to the kids what a "prompt" was and did an example of one on chart paper. I prepared them with the knowledge that this wasn't "really writing" like we'd learned it, but it was something they needed to know how to do. The kids were taken aback at the idea of not choosing their own topics, confused looks were popping up on faces all over the room. To make them feel more comfortable, I explained that they could use everything we had learned about writing, all the pre-writing strategies to focus their ideas, think of more details, etc. They seemed to be able to accept this. Then the bomb dropped.

I explained that on these tests they would have to write their whole piece at once and would not be able to discuss it out loud; they would have to do all the steps in the writing process by themselves at a single sitting. "What?!" the kids exclaimed. I was bombarded with questions: "How are we going to see what the audience thinks?" "How are we going to ask questions to get more details?" "How are we going to make it better?" "What if we feel stuck and we need to share to get more ideas?" Etc.

Steve: This has happened to me, too. In fact, it has happened so many times that it was starting to bother me. For a few years I wasn't sure what to do about it. But this year, working with a 3rd grade teacher, something different happened. When the class got to spring testing time, the kids actually wanted to take the tests. And when the tests were over, the feedback we got was that the testing was "easy" and "fun". There were certainly kids who asked when we were going to get back to real writing, real reading, and real math, but aside from being a bit bored, they weren't unhappy about the testing in any way.

What was different this time? It certainly wasn't more test prep. In fact, the teacher did very little. But she didn't ignore the test either. She told them about it long before it came up and referred to it throughout the year even though she we wasn't doing "test prep." She was excited, too. She wanted to do well and she communicated that to her students without making them feel pressured in any way. Without changing the way she taught, she tried to make the kids feel comfortable and confident about the testing that was to come. In the end, this seems to have been successful. In addition to enjoying the testing, the students received the highest scores in the school, scoring 10%-15% better in all subjects relative to the average scores of the five other 3rd grade classes in their school.

The conclusion I draw is that while we certainly shouldn't teach to the test, we shouldn't ignore it either. These tests are just another learning challenge like a new form of writing, a new kind of reading, or a new unit in math. If we approach the testing with confidence and composure, our kids will, too. Far from being afraid of tests, the 3rd graders I followed this year were eager to be tested, to show others what they had learned, to make themselves, their parents, and their teacher proud. It is experiences like this that make me think hard about whether "test anxiety" comes from the test or from us.

Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining

Julie: For the first time I can remember, I felt success from my students' confusion. They really do get it, I thought. They understand what it takes to be real writers. Granted, they will have to develop the habit of re-reading and asking themselves the questions that their readers reader would, but clearly they learned some of the most important things about what writing is and how to do it well.

To help them with the requirements of the testing situation, I talked to them about "writing like a reader", that they would not only have to know what they wanted to say but would also need to think about how a reader would respond without actually having a reader there to tell them. I told them that I knew this was a hard and unnatural thing to do, but that it was just another part of writing, just like all the other parts we had learned. I gave them some tips on how to develop their story without sharing it or having a conference. We talked about re-reading it and pretending you are the audience, then asking yourself a question that you think someone else might, trying to find parts that someone might have a question about to add more detail, and so on.

Steve: I suspect that one of the reasons kids have problems in testing situations is simply that writing for tests isn't very interesting. In Writer's Workshop classrooms, the kids get interested in writing. They also enjoy the social interaction that comes from listening to the writing of others, from conferences, small group sharing, etc. When they get to the tests, some of which go on for several days, they get bored, and their boredom translates into lackluster performance.

In my experience, working with kids at all grade levels all across the country, I find that in those classrooms where Writer's Workshop is practiced, writing is the kids' favorite subject. They really enjoy it and come to look forward to it each day, so much so that they become upset when for any reason they aren't able to write. It's another of the unfortunate ironies of testing (which is now dominated by writing) that kids who love to write should be the most negatively impacted.

The standard rationale for prohibiting sharing, conferencing, and using the writing process over several days is that there is no way to know for sure how much of the writing is actually done by the writer. But it occurs to me that never in nearly 20 years of professional writing have I had to produce something of any importance without being able to share it with others, get feedback, use writing reference materials, and receive assistance of all kinds. In fact, one of the things that makes me a successful professional writer is that I have a talent for seeking out feedback and using it to improve my work. The first time I got paid for a magazine article, my editor said, "Great story! Can you knock it down to 750 words and get it to me by Tuesday?" He didn't say, "Did you get any help with this?"

Good Prompt, Bad Prompt

Julie: We finished the example prompt and I gave them the post test. They had answered it before, during the pre-test at the beginning of the year. I felt that we were lucky because the prompt was based on a personal experience but unlucky because the type of experience was not something all of my students could relate to: "Write a story about an experience you've had with an animal." A few kids did not have experiences to choose from, and I talked with them until we found a time they went to a friend's house where a pet lived, or a time they went to a pet store, or something they might have seen in their backyard, etc. Then they wrote.

I couldn't conference, they couldn't share, we all got frustrated. The pieces turned out to be flops (as did the kids' pieces in the other 2nd grade classrooms). But I knew they would.

Although I know I will have to work more on teaching my students how to answer prompts successfully, and to write without authentic interaction, the fact my kids' pieces were so bad doesn't really bother me. I know that they have become good writers, that they are learning how to express themselves through written language, and that they understand what real writing is. Granted, some are still struggling and are not as good at this as others, but they all have the essential knowledge and solid strategies they need to develop into talented and passionate writers — real writers writing about real things that really matter.

Steve: This has happened to me, too. Two years ago, I had a group of kids answer a prompt. The pieces were short and uninspired. They were so different from their normal Writer's Workshop writing that I had everyone take out their last published piece and compare it with the piece they had written to the prompt. They noticed the difference immediately but they didn't care. I was confused. "Why are your prompted pieces so bad compared to your Writer's Workshop pieces?" I asked. They laughed. "Mr. Peha, this is school writing," one kid said. "So what?" I responded. To which he replied: "In Writer's Workshop we don't do this kind of writing, we do the good kind." At times like this, I feel like the kids should be teaching me!

Another interesting test anecdote came to me this spring from Rosemary Leifer, a 4th grade teacher in Renton, WA with whom I have worked for several years now. Rosemary is one of the finest teachers I have ever met and she is particularly good with writing. Normally, she runs a typical Writer's Workshop for about an hour each day, but recently she's been focusing on writing for our state test.

Here's what she had to say:

Dear Steve,
   You will appreciate this. For the last three weeks of school we have been spending at least two hours a day on writing. They write to prompts, we write to prompts together, we share samples of the best of the responses and ones that need to be improved and we discuss what should be done. We have been writing, writing, writing.
   So Tyler says to me last Friday, "Mrs. Leifer, when are we going to start writing again?" I said, "Tyler, what do you mean? We have been writing and writing and writing." He said, "But that's writing to prompts, not real writing. Real writing is when you have your own ideas and you think about them and share them with other people to get more ideas. Real writing is much more interesting. I am a much better real writer than I am a prompt writer."
   When I told him as soon as we finished testing we would be back to real writing, he was much relieved. "Real writing is my favorite thing to do."
   Sincerely,
  
   Rosemary

Clearly, this student is a writer, or as he might put it a "real writer." And real writers (even very young ones) know that what they are being asked to do on these tests is not real writing. I think it's also interesting that this student realizes, as many of us have been saying for years, that he writes much better in "real life" than he does on tests.

So why does it take a 9-year old kid to say the things that need to be said? If we're not testing "real writing" what are we testing? Is it smart to base decisions about teaching and learning on tests that do not accurately reflect the teaching and learning that has occurred? And if a 4th grader can figure this out, why can't pundits, politicians, and policy makers understand it, too?

 

Go To My Home Page