On Test Scores

As I started the college process in the early 1990s, I heard a lot about the SATs. So much emphasis was placed on them that I took the PSAT (a practice version) and the SAT exam three times. It took me three tries on the actual exam to break 1,000, and that was back when there were only two sections! When I first showed my college counselor the list of schools I was interested in, I was told I should perhaps expand my list because my SAT scores were not "that good." I didn't expand my list, and I am proud to share that I got into all six schools. Most importantly, I ended up where I belonged and that had very little to do with what I got on my SAT exam. 

This was on my mind because the Smarter Balanced Assessment scores were released on a state-wide basis in Vermont this week. Not surprisingly, the scores fell from 2019, pre-pandemic. But there is a more significant issue when it comes to the emphasis on testing. It is a national law that we test our students every spring to ensure that we receive federal dollars to do our work in public schools. It is conditional. Unless we take these tests, we don't get desperately needed monies to support our work in education. 

In October, I turned forty-seven, and I cannot think of one time - in my entire life - that the results of a standardized test score were meaningful to me. Not one time. I can tell you what I got on the SAT, the third time I took it: 1040. I was enrolled in a course between the second time and my final try. The course taught me only how to take a test - nothing about the content. And even with that 1040, I was told I should consider other colleges. We place too much emphasis on testing. 

I don't remember when, but I do remember how I learned to ride a bike. There was a one-way street behind the home I grew up in. My dad held the back of my bike seat and ran with me to help me get started, and would let go when I had enough balance and momentum. We went back and forth many, many times. I fell, I swerved, I crashed. There were skinned knees, scraped knuckles, and a lot of bruises. And to this day, I still know how to ride a bike. I kept getting up, and we kept practicing. 

How many people failed their driving test the first time they took it? And if you did, were you banned from driving? Of course not. The instructor shared feedback on what you needed to practice, what you did well in, and when you could test again. The goal between the first and the second test is to keep up the driving skills you demonstrated capabilities in and work on those that needed improvement. That sounds an awful lot like life. 

I have had these conversations in Vermont since the move was made toward proficiency-based learning standards in our state. Often, I will hear, "Well, we need to prepare our students for the real world." OK, there's nothing more real-world than paying your taxes. What happens when you don't? You don't get a zero for not turning in your homework. There is a fine and a six-month extension. 

And when was the last time as an adult, we were asked to take a test, that was a condition of the work we do receiving resources. Resources, by the way that are desperately needed. That fund key positions in our schools, so communities are not required to provide additional support with their tax dollars. 

While thinking this through, as I write, I still can't remember a time when a test score was significant in my life. Even my dissertation defense, the culmination of years of work, was not scored. It was pass/fail. And yet, we've accepted the reality that state-wide test scores, from one moment in time, should be newsworthy. Along with it come the snickers and comments questioning the efforts of our educators, paraeducators, and those support staff who are making it possible for teaching and learning to take place. 

We've accepted the reality that standardized testing is something of a necessity. However, ensuring that it is discussed in the appropriate context is the work of education. As a dad and superintendent, I'm much more interested in the progress my own children and my school district's children make, not just the score they earn. There's too much emphasis on the scores and not enough about how we got there. 

If you saw me trying to learn how to ride a bicycle the first time, I would not have inspired confidence. I would not have earned a "passing score." Today I do know how to ride a bike. 

No matter how many times I fell in the beginning. 

Photo courtesy of www.blogs.baylor.edu