When May Comes...

Every year it happens.  May comes.  And every year since 2002, it's been the same for me.  

That was the year No Child Left Behind really took a foothold and third grade testing became a benchmark for promotion or retention.  There have always been tests.  Even when I was in school.  In the past, the purpose of testing wasn't so bad.  

I mean who DOESN'T want to know that their child is being taught at the highest level possible? And who wouldn't want to hold schools accountable for doing "right" by their "customers"--the students?  In the late 90's though, our state started giving every school a grade.  A report card if you will.  I suppose that'd be OK as long as we realize that we don't all start out on level ground.  

Some schools are filled with students that have every benefit in their lives.  They have parents that love them and give them many experiences upon which to build their education.  These students often have a zest for learning.   Others are filled with kids who wonder where their next meal will come from.  Or if Dad and Mom will fight again tonight...or even if they'll be home. Some come from places that are so impoverished that their lessons take place on the streets and have little or nothing to do with textbooks or pedagogy.     Still other schools are filled with a mixture of these two ends of the student spectrum.  Yet, we grade them all based on similar criteria.  

A few years after grading began is when we really had to look at individual students.  The third grade year was selected as a benchmark year.  After all, if a child can't read by the time he or she is eight or nine years old, there is probably a problem.  Thus, mandatory retention began.  The rule was (and is) that a child who scores in the lowest range on our state test MUST be retained in the third grade.  

Our lawmakers are not totally heartless.  No.  They developed some loopholes.  Some "good cause" criteria that allows a student to possibly be passed on when they score at the lowest level on the single assessment.  Here are a few of the criteria: 

*  If a child has been in the country less than 2 years and speaks no English, he or she can move to fourth grade.  

*  If a student demonstrates an acceptable level of performance on an alternative test.  

*  If a student has had an IEP for more than 2 years AND has been retained already at least ONE time. 

*  If a student has had intensive remediation in reading for more than two years AND has been retained TWO times.

So, every year, the scores come in and we find out who "didn't make it".  We look carefully to see if we can articulate for any of them based on the criteria.  And then we start documenting it all.  And every parent of every child who does not meet criteria gets a phone call home letting them know that their child...their pride and joy...didn't "pass" the third grade.  

Some years, the phone call sounds like one I had to make last week:  "Your child did not pass the state test again.  I know (_____) was in third grade for the last two years, but (_____) have to do third grade a THIRD time.  It's the law."  And it hurts me like CRAZY!  Three YEARS in the third grade???  For what!?!?!  

So, while I've called the "first timers" and even some who will now be on their "second retention in 4 years"...it's the one above that simply makes my passion flame.  (_____) has had a lot of remediation.  (_____) has had other test scores that indicate being on level or just below, but not failing.  There's even a twin who will be ahead of (______) now by TWO years if this goes through.  And a younger sibling who has also now passed (_____) by. (_____) will turn eleven years old in October. IT BREAKS MY HEART!  

Today, we broke the mold of checking one of the criteria and documenting it.  Today, we wrote a narrative to introduce those people who make the decisions to this child.  We are pleading the case and doing all we can under this law to help (_____) make it to the fourth grade. 

While I hate it, this is also the time of year when I know I'm doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing.  I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I belong in education and at the school where I am.  For that, I am thankful.  

Still, tonight I'm whispering a prayer.  I'm praying this child, and all the others in our state with similar stories have someone to articulate for them.  I'm praying that someone will see the whole picture and make the right decision here.  After all, this child's future depends on it.