Yesterday I cried. On Friday I cried.
I watched myself give off myself to a child who was obviously broken by the fears of his mom’s reaction to his score in a test.
One more time, my disdain for traditional methods of assessment in test scores was validated.
I hate numeric test scores.
What can I do?
It is still the one major method used in record students’ achievements….and I’m resolved to re-represent my test scores.
Of course, I will show his strength when collating his final results through multiple assessment strategies; but more must be increasingly done to test to student’s strengths by all teachers.
He moaned, wailed, and groaned about the sort of beatings he would receive from his mom. Whom in his thinking was more powerful than any other mother.
He justified her acts. Even as he explained how she would get him to the floor, kick and possibly step on him.
He thinks it’s because other moms aren’t as powerful as his is the reason why some children don’t get beaten. Imagine that!
All because his grades were low.
Oh Grades….how I hate thee!
You don’t represent the effort this cute little child makes everyday.
You don’t represent his willingness.
You don’t represent his dedication.
You don’t represent his patience in apparent challenge.
You don’t represent his fighting spirit.
And of course you don’t represent his true success in class.
I encouraged him.
I told him he mattered.
I told him his mom was misinformed about his quality….and that I would solve the problem. I promised him his grades😒 would grow.
I told him, “you are a winner”.
When I was about to give myself too much away, I ran out of the class.
To cry. To really cry.
As a person whose emotions often gives itself away, and as I had to get back to teach, I had to return as quickly as possible.
I was born with colored eye balls. My eyes stay red longer than usual at the slightest of tears.
My students noticed this.
I discussed it no more on my return.
I had sorted it out. Resolved to bring a final conclusion to that sort of reaction by all parents. I have a plan.
Not for the parent in question (whom I have easy access to), but to all parents on this deadly syndrome.
Grades matter but grades don’t matter always too.
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