Diary of a Second Grade Teacher
Dr. Chase Young
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Today we took a science test. I learned a lot more than my students. So, there I was giving this silly little test because someone I have never met said it was mandatory. Did I mention it was Friday afternoon before fall break?
On one of the questions, the students were required to list things they might see in the night sky. I was appalled at low expectations and superficiality of the assessment. We spent three weeks conducting incredible science experiments utilizing the scientific method. I was fairly certain my second graders could have answered most of the questions on this test before the unit.
I looked over at the boy in the Sponge Bob pajamas who also happens to be smarter than me. The kid does not even get dressed for school anymore. I saw him as a brilliant, creative, and dedicated learner. That little test was incapable of revealing his true grasp and conceptual knowledge of science. Still he was engaged, but not with the test—he had about 20 pencil grips fashioned into a small fort. It was at this moment that I decided to do something a little out of the ordinary for school, but not so much for our class.
I added an 11th question to the test. “Why is it important to know the stuff on this test?” The 12th question read, “Is knowing all this important?” I was very curious and excited about the potential answers, and they were priceless. Rather than share my inferences, I will just let you read them, and you can draw your own conclusions.
Student 1: So you can get a good grade and know you are doing good in science.
Student 2: Your parents might get you an ICEE.
Student 3: So you will be a better learner.
Student 4: So the teacher knows what we need help with.
Student 5: To make sure we have been paying attention.
Student 6: In the future, tomorrow, when you grade this. It can give you info.
According to question 12, all of the students agreed that the test was important. Sheep! I urged them raise their hands if the test not very important. Nothing. So, like a good teacher, I chose to be a role-model. I raised my hand. Little hands quickly shot up. It was liberating!
Student 7: I guess it is only important because of grades.
Student 8: If you never measure rain, you don’t need to know about rain gauges. If you never do any of this stuff, it won’t help you at all.
Student 9: If you can’t remember this stuff, it may not matter. You can always look it up.
After that, I evaluated the mandated assessments and curriculum in all subject areas. With with my students in mind, I decided that most of it had to be tweaked or trashed completely, mostly superficial lessons that seemed to infiltrate every subject (especially extensive paper-pencil work in science). Because of my background in literacy, I had already made this change, hoping my research and thoughtfulness would help steer our class’ language arts block in the right direction. My decision to neglect some of the curriculum was not decided arrogantly or egotistically, but professionally. The students and I simply strolled down our learning pathway, enjoying each and every day, as if school were a learning playground. It was heaven, and rightfully so. I was learning how to be a better teacher directly from the students I taught—it was a reciprocal learning environment. As my focus landed only on the students, I was able to flourish as a teacher. It was their trust in me that empowered me. They looked upon me, trusting my every educational move. With trust, comes great responsibility, but it also allows professionals to be that teacher: that teacher who guides students beyond the edges of possibility; that teacher who uses challenge as motivation; that teacher who learns alongside their students; that teacher who provides meaningful and authentic learning experiences; that teacher who students remember forever.
On one of the questions, the students were required to list things they might see in the night sky. I was appalled at low expectations and superficiality of the assessment. We spent three weeks conducting incredible science experiments utilizing the scientific method. I was fairly certain my second graders could have answered most of the questions on this test before the unit.
I looked over at the boy in the Sponge Bob pajamas who also happens to be smarter than me. The kid does not even get dressed for school anymore. I saw him as a brilliant, creative, and dedicated learner. That little test was incapable of revealing his true grasp and conceptual knowledge of science. Still he was engaged, but not with the test—he had about 20 pencil grips fashioned into a small fort. It was at this moment that I decided to do something a little out of the ordinary for school, but not so much for our class.
I added an 11th question to the test. “Why is it important to know the stuff on this test?” The 12th question read, “Is knowing all this important?” I was very curious and excited about the potential answers, and they were priceless. Rather than share my inferences, I will just let you read them, and you can draw your own conclusions.
Student 1: So you can get a good grade and know you are doing good in science.
Student 2: Your parents might get you an ICEE.
Student 3: So you will be a better learner.
Student 4: So the teacher knows what we need help with.
Student 5: To make sure we have been paying attention.
Student 6: In the future, tomorrow, when you grade this. It can give you info.
According to question 12, all of the students agreed that the test was important. Sheep! I urged them raise their hands if the test not very important. Nothing. So, like a good teacher, I chose to be a role-model. I raised my hand. Little hands quickly shot up. It was liberating!
Student 7: I guess it is only important because of grades.
Student 8: If you never measure rain, you don’t need to know about rain gauges. If you never do any of this stuff, it won’t help you at all.
Student 9: If you can’t remember this stuff, it may not matter. You can always look it up.
After that, I evaluated the mandated assessments and curriculum in all subject areas. With with my students in mind, I decided that most of it had to be tweaked or trashed completely, mostly superficial lessons that seemed to infiltrate every subject (especially extensive paper-pencil work in science). Because of my background in literacy, I had already made this change, hoping my research and thoughtfulness would help steer our class’ language arts block in the right direction. My decision to neglect some of the curriculum was not decided arrogantly or egotistically, but professionally. The students and I simply strolled down our learning pathway, enjoying each and every day, as if school were a learning playground. It was heaven, and rightfully so. I was learning how to be a better teacher directly from the students I taught—it was a reciprocal learning environment. As my focus landed only on the students, I was able to flourish as a teacher. It was their trust in me that empowered me. They looked upon me, trusting my every educational move. With trust, comes great responsibility, but it also allows professionals to be that teacher: that teacher who guides students beyond the edges of possibility; that teacher who uses challenge as motivation; that teacher who learns alongside their students; that teacher who provides meaningful and authentic learning experiences; that teacher who students remember forever.
