Today was the PSAT at our school, and probably the other schools in our district, too. Back in my high school days, my folks probably paid a few bucks for this PRACTICE SAT test, and I’m positive it was only administered to those who paid. Fast-forward to the land of equal opportunity in 2016. Now every sophomore at North High takes the test (I don’t know if the other schools do that. I would assume so), along with juniors and seniors who have to pay. But, based on the 460 or 470 sophomores that we have, our school is out about $7000 for a practice test.
Here come the conflicting messages. Every sophomore? I get it–our district hopes that there will be kids who don’t look good on paper who end up doing well on the test; and, for those kids, we will dangle some incentives on the belief that college might come up on their radar. Everyone, because all our kids should have college on their radar.
And what does that T stand for in PSAT? Why, it stands for test, which we keep trying to move away from in our daily grind. Let’s get some articles, annotate them, come up with essential questions, write a commentary, participate in a Socratic seminar, and move along in such a lockstep manner that students start to groan when they see a teacher with freshly-Xeroxed papers in each hand. Here we go again with the drill–same as it ever was, same as it ever was.
I got no beef with all that. Really? Any good teacher wants to keep things relevant with articles, have students annotate for note-taking and meaning, come up with essential questions to critically think about purpose, write a commentary to support opinions with students’ words alongside the words of the source material, write, argue, debate, agree, disagree. That’s all part of teaching, and part of their lives outside school. I get that.
But, sometimes, the answer is C. And the answer is C because A and B are ridiculous, and D just isn’t as good. Guess what? Those were the choices students had today on the PSAT, and those are the choices they’ll have on the SAT and ACT. They’ll have to use their critical thinking skills, maybe do a little synthesis, and come up with the right answer.
Today, my honors students didn’t complain about the PSAT. My regular students did. My regular students, for the most part, have complained each time I’ve given them a test. My favorite guy Huxley would argue that this is what we are conditioning them to feel–commentaries good, tests bad, because tests might make them uncomfortable, and everyone needs to be happy.
Pass the soma and turn up the Buzzcocks.