This Week I Am Just Cherry Flavored Jell-O

          This is something I have dreaded every year since I was in the fifth grade. No, it’s not the bi-annual teeth cleaning, or visits to the doctor, even though I do dread those things with a passion. But, this is something that even as an adult reduces me to a pile of quivering Jell-O. Wow, what is it that does this to me?

           Testing.

                                                 

                                                        www.nea.org

            As a kid in Texas it was the TAAS test, then the TASP test, and the CATS test. These tests were never as hard as I imagined they would be, but when adults began to emphasize the importance of sleep and eating breakfast, all of a sudden it became a bigger deal. I thought that going to bed on time and keeping my belly full was something that you should do anyway. So, on the day of testing I would double my breakfast and end up with a stomachache to go with the raging nervousness.

Now, as a teacher, the nervousness has tripled. Even though I am confident about the work that I do, when the week of the state test comes around, I find myself in clench mode. If you don’t know what clenching is, read my friend Kate’s blog, Nested.

     I have proctored a lot of different kinds of tests. At this point in my career, I’ve been a certified teacher in six states, because I’m also an Army wife.  Anybody who has given one of these tests knows how many detailed rules and regulations accompany them. Not to mention the pressure that hangs over you that the kids perform at the very best. Because, “if you’re not first you’re last”, right Ricky Bobby?

Yesterday, as I gave the test, I made a mistake. It was a minor one, but it was a mistake. I had to admit this mistake to the higher powers and reap the wrath. No, the integrity of the test wasn’t compromised, no child was left behind, and no child was prevented from doing their best. All in all, this mistake of mine was nothing. But as I walked away from school yesterday, I felt like my entire professional career was a sham. A little overdramatic? Yea, maybe, but that’s what I let myself be reduced to.

Later, as I was drowning my sorrows in strawberry shortcake, the food not the cartoon, I realized that this test does not define me. It didn’t define me as a kid and it doesn’t define me as a professional. I will measure my success by different standards, one that sees everyday evidence that students are  improving and gaining the skills they need to progress. This test is a benchmark. It is only one assessment tool. Like other tools in my toolbox, it doesn’t work alone.