The "No Child Left Untested" mandated state assessments recently took place in our state. Two days of testing in reading one week, two days of testing in math the next. Around this time, JAM, our fifth grader, came home talking about an announcement of a dance party that would be occurring at his school soon. He said that the announcement stated that every child who arrived at school on time for each and every testing day would be allowed to go to the party, which would be held during the school day. Hmmm, I thought. Several "what ifs" ran through my mind, and one realistic one came to fruition after the second day of testing when JAM told us about a situation with a friend of his. Due to a death in his family, JAM's friend was absent on one of the testing days, so JAM said that he wouldn't be able to go to the party. Ouch. This really rubbed me the wrong way.
Then, of course, the flu descended upon our house, knocking out me, then Pudge, then Red, and finally JAM (somehow hubby was spared, lucky guy). And, of course, he didn't feel fabulous the day before the first math testing day, with the body aches and cough that I knew were the exact symptoms that I had had less than a week before. It progressed by that evening, and as his face began to wear the tell-tale signs of fever that it has every time he's been sick in his life-- he gets cartoon-like red cheeks and his lips look like they have been lined with makeup-- I had the sinking realization that there was no way he was going to school the next day. His reaction, as he's coming down with the nasty flu, "But I won't be able to go to the dance party!"
So here's the dilemma that I'm struggling with-- rewards, and their innate counterparts, punishments. Let me be clear, I see the appropriateness and value of both, and as a stay-at-home mom who spends almost every waking hour with a 3 and 4 year old, I most definitely make use of them both. Ask Pudge-- after not listening to my direction to stay in bed during naptime yesterday, and being given two chances to correct his behavior, he was horribly dismayed to find out that he had to stay upstairs to play for a half hour in the afternoon while his sister watched a television show downstairs.
What I'm questioning in this particular situation has more to do with the seeming lack of logic to the application of this reward than the decision to offer a reward in the first place. My husband articulated this well when he made reference to the school system's differentiation between an "excused" absence and an "unexcused" one. Death in the family? Excused. Flu raging through your system? Excused. Took your child out for a family camping trip? Unexcused. (We're two for three on those just this year.) If a child missed school on a testing day for a reason that would be classified as "excused," should it still count against them in reference to this reward party?
The explanation given by the administration relied a lot on "precedent," because the school has apparently offered an ice cream party as a reward for the same reason in past years, but little logic seemed to be applied other than that. I can't help but be reminded of the "zero tolerance" policies that have seen young kids getting expelled for carrying "weapons" like nail clippers to school in recent years. Have we lost the ability to apply logic to situations involving children?
My mind also keeps going to the point that it seems that we as a society feel so comfortable working in absolutes when it comes to children, in ways that would NEVER fly in adult environments. Imagine it:
An office is working on a group project, and the leader of the group announces a work-day special lunch that will be held at the completion of the project, but only for the employees who show up at work on four specific days. Sally, who sits in a cubicle smack dab in the middle of the office, comes down with the flu and misses two of those days. In the few days after her absence, she makes up all her assigned work but on that fateful Friday, she is told not to report to the break room during lunch. Instead, she may stay in her cubicle and do what she wishes with her time, maybe play on her computer or call a friend, but she's not going to take part in the special lunch. She watches as her colleagues all walk toward the break room, and maybe she can even hear a little of the vibrant and happy conversations taking place, but she sits at her desk for that half hour as she's told. For a few days, she's even subjected to overhearing her co-workers talk about the fabulous spread that was laid out for them, but rules are rules, and she was out of work on those days.
Can you imagine?!
Here's what I see as the key element to this story: control. When I tell my three year old that he must stay in his bed during naptime and not get out of bed to play, he is in control of his choice. If he chooses to get out of bed, then he can be held responsible for that choice by applying a punishment or the removal of a privilege. If he instead chooses to lie back down and rest, then he can certainly be rewarded for exercising good self-control. Did JAM's friend have control over the timing of the death of his family member? Did JAM have control over his immune system's failure in fighting off a nasty illness that has been running rampant? Should either of them be denied a reward because of a situation outside of their control?
I just can't figure out how this is deemed okay, by the people trusted with educating our children, nonetheless. What message does this send to JAM? To his friend? To the child whose home life is such a mess that he was late to school one testing morning? What do they learn from this?
When talking about this situation with a friend and fellow parent, she offered a fabulous alternative that I believe would have still accomplished the goal of encouraging students to be hyper-vigilant about getting to school on time for those days: What if the school figured out their average daily attendance/tardiness rate, as well as the rate on their testing days the previous year, and subsequently set a school-wide goal of beating those rates by a realistic measure. If the goal was met, then the entire school would be able to attend a dance party. Might a few kids who actually made conscious choices that lead to their tardiness or absence on a testing day get to take part in the reward? Maybe. But isn't that a risk worth taking for the good of the overall community?
At the end of the day, I'm left with the feeling that academic performance on these singular tests (which, let's not pussyfoot around it, has much more of an effect on a school's reputation than on any individual child's education) is significantly more important in the eyes of the administration than children's social or emotional development. Are educators expected to forget about this element of a child's development once they leave the comfort of preschool? I think not, yet this is just one situation that leads me in that direction.
So here I pose it to you, gentle blog reader. What's your take on this specific situation? How would you feel if your child was excluded from a "reward" (as defined in those exact terms by the administration) for a reason completely out of his or her control? Would you do anything as a parent in this situation?
Humbly hoping for others' perspective,
No comments:
Post a Comment
Whatcha thinking?