I Just Spent 40 Minutes Consoling a Unicorn

Well that is not entirely correct because my five year old, who was so excited to put on her costume for Purim and has talked about nothing else for weeks, woke up this morning in tears refusing to put on her unicorn costume.  Today is the day where her school is celebrating Purim.  Purim is a Jewish holiday where we celebrate the ‘backwardsness’ of the world.  It is the day where the underdog wins and therefore we celebrate by mixing everything up.

Children come to school in costume, there is a special carnival, we walk around with noisemakers (as if a classroom with twenty children isn’t noisy on its own), the children eat ridiculous amounts of unhealthy food, the list goes on.  To many, this is a really fun and exciting day but to a small--sometimes hidden minority, days like this are the worst days of the year.

Children thrive on routine.  From a young age we know that the best nighttime sleep comes from a fixed schedule.  Bath, brush teeth, book, song, lights out.  For many first time parents this ritual is so sacred it carries an almost superstitious air.  If one of those steps is missed, one piece isn’t just right, they are doomed to a night of crying and consoling.  So fast-forward five years and zoom in on this same child.  He is now expected to be excited about a day where everything is backwards?  Everything he knows will now be changed, and he is supposed to enjoy this? How can we help children who crave this routine to succeed on a day like Purim?

Step 1: Preview.  For children who crave routine, it is key to preview what the day will be like.  What pieces of their routine will be switched, and what will remain the same?  Will they still be under the watchful eye of their teachers or will they be having a substitute?  Will they be with their classmates, or is it going to be a different grouping of children for the day? 

Step 2: Know your students.  As we plan for changes in a school schedule, we must think about what will really enhance the students’ experience.  Does it really add to the celebration if we switch classrooms or cubbies for the day?  At what age is this fun, and when is it just confusing?  How loud is it going to be, how many children are going to be in the same room?  Have some noise canceling headphones on hand for kids to wear if they are so inclined.  Put yourself in their shoes as you plan and be mindful of every child.

Step 3: Think of ‘opt out’ options.  In the same vein as planning the classroom celebrations with your students in mind, think about alternative plans for the students who can’t participate fully.  What would make this day special for children who need to be in a quiet, more controlled environment? Let the children know a ‘back up plan’ and a ‘check in spot’ that they can always go to when they need a break. 

On a day like Purim it is easy for us to get caught up in the fun.  As an adult, the break in routine is welcomed and refreshing, but as with everything else in school we need to think about the children in front of us and how these days will affect every last one of them. 

What are we assessing?

I just spoke to a teacher about her assessment practices in her middle school classroom.  "How can I assess my students?" she said "I can't place judgement on their work, only they know if they were putting in their full effort or not."  She went on further to explain that "I don't want to define them, they need to learn to measure their own success."

The whole process of grading is so emotional.  It is as if we as people are being judged on our grades, on our test scores, on how well we performed on this one particular test.  Standardized tests have been defining our schools for many years.  We need a way to make sure all fourth graders are achieving at the same level, that no one is falling through the cracks.  But have we gone too far?  Have we reached a tipping point when city budgets are set based on eight year old's scores on a test?

Is there a way to assure that all of our students are achieving without pitting them or ourselves against one another?  Is there a way to help our students learn the value of work without imposing our own definitions of success on them?  Can we assure that all children are learning and growing without making the stakes so high that the success defines their entire being?

I think there is room for a healthy voice in this conversation.  We all strive to be acknowledged, we all need feedback and we all want to know that we have accomplished something.  I firmly believe in authentic assessment.  I think that students, just like adults, need to know when they have accomplished something and how they were successful.  We can give students feedback in an authentic way, judging their work over time and their consolidation of information.  Looking at drafts of work and portfolios of different pieces over time are two ways to allow students to show their own success over time.  Presenting a student with a rubric that shows the criteria we are looking for allows our students to know what they can do to be successful.

Translating this idea to a large scale is where the problem comes in.  It is much easier for a machine to grade standardized tests than to evaluate the progress of a portfolio over time.  This is why we need to trust teachers.  We need to properly prepare  teachers, support them, and trust that they know how to truly assess their own students.  If we know that teachers are properly prepared to give and grade assessments then we can rest assured that our students are getting the proper feedback on their own learning, teachers understand where they need to teach for the children to grow and we can be assured that everyone is on track.