First Person

Voices: Am I a proctor or a teacher?

Jessica Cuthbertson is a literacy teacher who loves achievement data about her students – until she fears she’s drowning in numbers.

I have a confession to make: I love data.  As a literacy teacher, I feel traitorous saying such a thing.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love words and poetry and prose too, but data is so … neat.  Evenly-spaced rows on spreadsheets, columns of numbers, levels and layers, bar graphs, line graphs – documents that appear organized and precise and usable.  Even if they aren’t.

Image of pencil erasing a multiple-choice test answer.Data doesn’t scare me.  I know its strengths and limitations.  I know what it tells me – this student performed in this way on this assessment at this moment in time.  And I know what it doesn’t tell me – did they eat breakfast that day?  Did they read the directions completely? Did they feel comfortable in the environment?  Did they know what they could (and couldn’t) ask the proctor?  Did they go into it thinking it was easy or hard?  Did they think about it at all?

Information about our students at the beginning of the school year is a gift.  Like the action-packed trailer of an anticipated film, such information offers teachers a “sneak peek” at the strengths, possible challenges and potential needs on their rosters.  But it is just a snippet of what our students can do.  Nothing more.

I received the gift of one-on-one 45-minute assessment appointments with my students the first two days of school. Our building decided to pilot an in-depth reading assessment system that was rolled out district-wide in kindergarten through fifth grades with our sixth- and seventh- graders, so that we would all have critical information about our readers right away.

In that time, I heard nearly 20 students read fiction and nonfiction texts at various levels.  We talked about their summer, their genre preferences and their hopes and dreams for sixth grade.  Beyond the academic snapshot, these appointments gave me the opportunity to begin building rapport and relationships with these readers before the first “regular” day of school.  It was heaven.

And then the school year really started.  And with it came … more assessments.  More data.  More information on my 65 students.

By the fifth day of school, my students had been assessed three times in my content area via the one-on-one reading assessment, a building-wide two-day writing assessment and an in-class pre-assessment outlined in the district unit-planning guide.  And then an email arrived in my inbox with an attachment for an assessment schedule for the following week.  Diagnostic computer-based assessments touted as “TCAP predictors” in reading, writing, math (and science at state-assessed grade levels) for all students with an end-of-August administration deadline.

Three assessments within the first five days of school and three class periods (or 270 minutes) zapped out of the following week’s schedule for more testing.

It was then that I began to wonder if I would be the first teacher to actually drown in data.  Worse, I wondered and worried that my students were going to think that in art you create, in Spanish you speak, in science you experiment and in literacy … you take tests!

Sadly, if my students gauge their literacy learning based on the first two weeks of school, they are likely to believe that assessment is the equivalent of learning and that reading and writing is about performance, prompts, timed tasks and rubrics.  And that’s just not okay with me.

Recently, an EdNews commentary reflected on the angst teachers feel at the beginning of the year awaiting TCAP results from the previous spring.  Truth be told, I haven’t even begun to dig into TCAP data.  Why would I?  The results are months old, and sitting before me are piles and piles of fresh data.  More data than I know what to do with.  Easily a semester or even a year’s worth of teaching points.  That is, if assessments subside long enough for teaching and learning to actually take place.

I love data.  But in our quest to measure student learning, we waste valuable instructional time and then wonder why our students aren’t progressing further faster.  And we pile data onto teachers and give them no collaborative time to dissect it, make sense of it and do something meaningful with the information.

We must ask ourselves: are we proctors or are we teachers?  Are our students test-takers or are they learners?

First Person

I spoke with our governor during his TNReady listening tour. Here’s what I hope he heard.

PHOTO: TN.gov
Tara Baker raises her hand to talk during Gov. Bill Haslam's Sept. 4 roundtable discussion about state testing challenges. An assistant principal at Nashville's McGavock High School, Baker was among about 150 educators invited to participate in Haslam's six-stop "listening tour," which began Aug. 31 in Knoxville and ends Sept. 18 in Gibson County.

As the testing coordinator for a large high school in Nashville, I was in the eye of the proverbial storm this spring as tens of thousands of Tennessee students slogged through technical snafus and breakdowns in the state’s return to online testing.

It was ugly.

The daily stops and starts sucked the joy of learning right out of our school community. And the testing platform was not the only thing that broke down. Students were frustrated to the point of tears after their hard work disappeared behind a spinning blue cursor.

Students and their teachers should never feel that level of exasperation and futility.

That’s why I was thrilled to be invited — along with about 150 other educators from across Tennessee — to troubleshoot testing problems with Gov. Bill Haslam this month during his six-stop “listening tour” on TNReady, the assessment that’s now entering its fourth year.

I wanted the governor and his education commissioner, Candice McQueen, to know just how bad testing went at my school, and to hear observations and ideas from ground zero for moving forward.

I talked about our school’s disappointment and tears as we persevered through a rocky start, with already overtested students exasperated by what felt like unending technical difficulties. “They were defeated,” I told the governor. “It crippled us before we really ever got started.”

I shared how only 36 out of 500 students in our English III classes were able to successfully submit their essays for one part of their online exam. Imagine working for over an hour to read and examine an article and construct an in-depth response, only to have your computer freeze or shut down before you could finish. Our sophomores had more success, but we still had almost 150 incomplete submissions in that class after multiple attempts. The stories were similar for students in Integrated Math, Chemistry, and U.S. History. While I can’t know for sure, I believe the intensity of the problems contributed significantly to our school being rated recently at the state’s lowest possible level for academic growth — a devastating blow to me and my colleagues.  

The governor’s 90-minute roundtable discussion, held in a middle school media room in the town of Franklin, was cathartic for many of us present at the fourth listening tour stop. We realized that we were not alone in our frustrations and concerns.

PHOTO: TN.gov
Educators in Middle Tennessee participate in the governor’s fourth roundtable discussion at Freedom Middle School in Franklin.

Gov. Haslam and Commissioner McQueen listened intently, and I was grateful for the opportunity to share my school’s experience. But a lot of ideas and emotions were compressed into a relatively short amount of time. At the end of the day, here’s what I hope they heard:

We spend too much time on testing and not enough on educating students. Teachers talked about using class time to take practice tests in the fall, the long three-week testing window in the spring, and the sheer number of tests that students are required to take.

We should still test; we just have to do it better. Teachers want valid data. We want useful and meaningful feedback. But we need to know that the information provided is a true representation of what our students know. And we should be able to accomplish that with shorter, more thoughtful tests that cut down on subparts, testing times, and the number of questions. The current testing regimen isn’t working. It stresses out our students, teachers, and families.

We are not ready for online assessments in Tennessee. Computer-based testing generates faster results, but it introduces many factors that currently are beyond school or district control. Dead batteries, network updates, lack of internet connectivity and bandwidth — these are not things that schools can regulate with certainty, and they directly impact testing. Most importantly, until we have enough computers so that every student has one-to-one access to a device, we should have other options and school-level contingency plans in place. This could mean having paper backups on hand or quickly available.

Teachers and test administrators need to know the plan! As the link with our stakeholders, we need training to make sure the information that we provide students and parents is correct. It’s our job to promote the assessments to the community but, to do that, we should completely understand the process and be appropriately trained, including what to do when things go wrong.  

Tests need to reflect the diversity of our students. Reading selections should be varied to address students’ abilities, experiences, and lifestyles. For example, Jane Eyre is not relatable to any of my urban high school students. Could we pull from some high-interest contemporary novels, such as Jason Reynolds’ “Long Way Down,” about a black teenager whose brother dies in a shooting?

PHOTO: TN.gov
Gov. Bill Haslam listens during his Sept. 4 roundtable discussion. An advisory team is using the feedback to develop principles and recommendations for consideration by his and the next administration.

This school year, the stakes are higher than ever to get testing right. No one has confidence in last year’s scores or results. How could they when we learned on the third day of testing that the scores wouldn’t count? And this wasn’t our first rodeo with TNReady problems, either. For the new school year, we must get it right to rebuild confidence in the assessment. To the state’s credit, the Department of Education already has made some good moves — for instance, bringing aboard ETS, a reputable testing company, and planning stress tests for online assessments in the fall and spring. I welcome the on-the-ground input of 37 educators serving as our state’s new TNReady ambassadors, as well as steps to improve customer service before and during the next round of testing.

But will it be enough? The above list of concerns represents what I heard at this month’s roundtable discussion and from other educators, too.

Thanks for listening, Gov. Haslam. I hope that yours and the next administration consider this a call to action.

A former English teacher, Tara Baker is an assistant principal at McGavock High School, a 2,400-student learning community in Metropolitan Nashville Public Schools.

First Person

We’ve come a long way in addressing student stress and trauma. I could use help, too.

PHOTO: Jose M. Osorio/Chicago Tribune/TNS via Getty Images

There’s an old adage, “You can’t pour from an empty cup.” But as a paraprofessional in Chicago, my cup is almost drained.

Each day, I provide academic, emotional, and behavioral support for over 200 students. The amount of mental and emotional energy it takes to calm a single student down, redirect or remove them from the class, and provide appropriate consequences is overwhelming — even with experience — when there are 11 other six-year-olds in a classroom that need my help.

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I look forward to coming to work in the morning, but by the time I get home, I barely have the energy to make my own dinner or plan activities for the next day. I tune out almost everything and everyone. While I love what I do, it is hard.

This heavy responsibility affects my mental health and the health of all educators, and it certainly impacts our ability to properly teach and support students. In the wake of Chicago’s teacher assistant layoffs this summer, my colleagues and I have dealt with the added stress of job uncertainty, too.

But we haven’t acknowledged the effects of that stress on educators, and we aren’t equipped with support to manage it.

The good news is that we are having a conversation about the effects of stress and trauma on our students. I’ve watched advocates successfully push for change: Educators for Excellence-Chicago, an educator-led organization I am involved with, brought some of these issues to light last June. Since then, we have held citywide problem-solving forums in partnership with the district’s Office of Social Emotional Learning and successfully advocated for the passage of two school state resolutions to ensure that student trauma is appropriately recognized throughout Illinois.

The recent focus on social-emotional learning — also known as “soft skills” — in our classrooms is also helping schools better prepare students for challenges that no child should face, but many do.

Those challenges are real: In my classroom, one student is a caregiver for his parent, another has lost multiple siblings to gun violence, and many others have parents that work long hours and are rarely around. These experiences have a considerable impact on their learning; often, students don’t have the tools to cope with this stress, and so they express their frustration by acting out in disruptive ways.

And yet, amid all this advocacy for our students’ mental health, we neglect our own. I worry that without a healthy state of mind, educators can’t offer their best teaching and attention to students, perhaps causing additional harm to kids already dealing with heavy burdens outside of school.

I don’t think it has to be this way. If more funding was allocated to our schools for student counseling, it would allow educators more time to focus on teaching. Our schools could provide social and emotional support to our students and staff to help them learn coping mechanisms. We would be able to hold self-care activities for the entire school. Support staff could give students and parents tools to support them outside of school.

To ensure students’ well-being, we need our own help.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said it best: “Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. This is the interrelated structure of reality.” Student and educator mental wellness are deeply interconnected, and we all must make sure we help educators be the best they can be for their students.

Shakita Smith is a teacher’s assistant at Pablo Casals School of Excellence in Humboldt Park. She is also a member of the Chicago Teachers Union and Educators for Excellence, a national teacher policy and advocacy organization.