By the Numbers

I had Martin Luther King, Jr. day off yesterday. I naturally made a To Do list for myself and mapped out my day in the morning. I took my time and got to everything on the list by the time I went to sleep. One of those things was even to go for a run in the 8 degree weather. (Brr.) But there was one little item on the list that I passive aggressively avoided, and it still is not completed. In fact, I've just received a slap-on-the-wrist email for missing this deadline. It's not a huge deal, but I'll admit I hate being late with anything, and yet something in me is still resisting completing this task punctually.

It's my kids' data. 

Basically, all Teach For America corps members submit their students' standardized test scores into a huge database so that the organization can track how your class is doing. We took a round of standardized testing this Winter, got the results a few weeks ago, and need to report these results to decide how to plan for the coming quarters of school. Before I go into why I hate this, let me say that it IS a good thing and meant for the good of the students. They are using this information to support me, to help me become a better teacher. The test scores help you see where you can challenge some kids to push even harder and really do some work in helping other kids catch up to grade level and further. It is crucial for my kids to not fall too far behind, especially in reading, in order for them to have a good foundation for school when they stop learning to read and start reading to learn in the next few years and beyond. So I'm not excusing myself for the lateness. It's not okay and I'm not trying to justify something I should have done. Teach For America is not the problem; they're only trying to be effective, efficient, and productive.

But.

I still hate it. I hate that my kids are assigned numbers, letters, and reading levels. I hate that my kids already think they aren't good at reading or math. I hate that my girl T has been working her butt off during reading this quarter, yet still received an F on her report card for reading to signify that she is still technically below the grade level of where she should be at the halfway point of second grade. I hate that second graders, seven-year-olds, even receive grades at all. I hate that my kids' talents, strengths, abilities, personalities, and passions don't come across on those tests or in that data. I hate that I spend a lot of my time figuring out how to be a numbers person and use trackers for objective mastery but I just can't get the hang of it. Woof.

I know I should be a "data person." I'm supposed to be. I am a Teach For America girl, after all. Data is what it's all about! But I also know some other things. I know that I never had someone tracking my mastery when I was growing up. I know I was not given A's, B's, or C's until much later than 2nd grade. Also, however, I know that my home life and school life were coordinating for my educational success, so maybe that's why I didn't need all my data being tracked until kingdom come. So that's the tension I'll have to live in for my kids. In an imperfect world, we have to be acutely aware of what it's going to take to overcome a lot of obstacles that shouldn't be there for little kids. It's crunch time for my second graders, and knowing exactly where they stand on exact objectives, I suppose, is definitely helpful in figuring out how to help them grow as much as possible...

...but grow into what? People who have mastered objectives? People who pass tests? I don't like the sound of that. All that hard work so they, one day, might have a paycheck with a bigger number on it? This is where I still can't find the words for what I mean to say. I guess what I'm getting at is that, while I'm not a great teacher yet, the fact remains that the heart of my kids is what matters the most to me. It matters that C learns to speak up for herself. It matters that R has shown huge strides with social interaction and understanding social cues. It matters that A smiles when she walks in the door for breakfast in the morning despite what's going on at home. It matters that M is singing gospel songs to himself as he does his math assignment. It matters that T, despite the F in reading, still came up to me the day after parent-teacher conferences and politely asked if she could do extra work on the side for a book that she's reading. And there's no number that can capture that.