More Than a Score

by Jesse Hagopian

  person—and especially the average elected official—in our state had no understanding of these concerns when we began our campaign in the winter of 2013. High-stakes testing is a complicated issue, and if people had heard of Rhode Island’s new policy at all, it was likely through the distorted cliché that “testing will raise standards, and we all agree we need higher standards.” Our organization knew we needed to correct this misperception by getting the matter on the public’s radar and changing the frame through which people saw the issue.

  But how? We had already organized a “normal” rally at the RI State House (the usual kind of protest with a crowd, some speeches, and so on) and spoken at a number of state board of education meetings, but we needed to get more creative if we really wanted to vault the issue into the public eye. Then we had our brainstorm.

  We were having a conversation about what high-stakes testing does to students when PSU member Cauldierre McKay mentioned that it basically turns students into test-taking, unthinking zombies. A collective light went on. We all agreed the zombie image was a perfect symbol for our message about how this policy undermines real student success; it was a metaphor we knew the public would be able to grasp quickly and easily. In addition, we knew zombies were hot—the Walking Dead show had 16.1 million viewers for its season four premiere to become the most-watched drama series telecast in basic cable history—and we figured that dressing up like zombies would be fun and attract students. So why not organize a zombie march against the Rhode Island Department of Education to demonstrate to the world exactly what we felt we were being turned into?

  Countless amounts of talcum powder, red food coloring, corn syrup, eyeshadow, and ripped shirts later, the protest was a big success. Students had a great time and we attracted a lot of local news coverage. After all, what reporter would want to miss the scoop, “Zombies Converge on Downtown Providence?” In the following weeks, pundits turned their attention to the broader issue, and new organizational allies stepped forward.

  However, our zombie action also brought increased pushback. RIDE officials began a talk show blitz and testing supporters published op-eds hawking the absolutism that anyone who was against high-stakes testing was against high standards. A number of commentators tried to discredit our activism, saying we should stop wasting our time with gimmicks and instead focus on studying. After all, if we weren’t so lazy and just did our work, we should be able to pass the NECAP.

  Once again, we needed to reframe the conversation. PSU member Kelvis Hernandez was particularly upset by one adult commentator who showed his ignorance of this issue by claiming that students should be able to pass the test easily. “If they think it’s so easy, why don’t they take the test and see for themselves?” Kelvis said. A new idea was born: This time we decided to debunk the “high standards” messaging by pointing out what this test actually measures, what it misses, and how “easy” the tests are.

  After the success of the zombie action, we knew we could get attention using untraditional tactics. We assembled a very brainy, well-dressed crowd in the basement of Providence’s historic Knight Memorial Library. Our accomplished group of about fifty volunteers included state representatives, state senators, city council members, senior aides to the mayor of Providence, accomplished attorneys, directors of major nonprofits, Ivy League professors, a former Democratic nominee for governor, an NBC news anchor, and a scientist or two.

  A buzz of anxious conversation filled the room until a group of youth stood up to collect the adults’ attention. The students quieted the crowd, read instructions, and distributed test booklets and answer sheets. At last, PSU member Monique Taylor announced, “You have one hour to complete the first section. You may begin now.” Pencils up, heads down, they started filling in bubbles.

  The plan for the “Take the Test” event was simple: get as many successful adults as possible to take the NECAP. Of course, we encountered some complications. For one, it is illegal to have an actual copy of the NECAP, so we created a sample, mock exam using the questions RIDE releases every year. We did our best to approximate the same ratios of kinds of questions regarding content, format, and “depth of knowledge” assessed in the real test. Second, we found our biggest detractors were least likely to be willing to risk failure by taking the test. All members of the Rhode Island Board of Regents who had voted for the testing policy declined to participate in the event, as did the director of the state’s Teach for America, the spokesperson for Rhode Island Democrats for Education Reform, and others. When asked, commissioner Deborah Gist responded that since she has a doctorate and has taken many tests, she did not feel the need to prove herself to anyone. (It is worth pointing out that PhD candidates are mainly evaluated with performance-based assessments; they are required to actually be able to think and do, rather than simply to fill in bubbles.) Fortunately, there were lots of other people who did have the courage to put themselves in students’ shoes, and after several weeks of outreach to all the elected officials and successful professionals we could think of, we had a respectable group of test-takers.

  As you might imagine, this event quickly became a media sensation. The next day newspapers were filled with pictures of the confused and frustrated adult test-takers struggling over their mock exams. When we called a press conference to announce the results of the graded tests a week later, every outlet in the state showed up to hear the outcome. They wanted to know: how many passed?

  The results? Of the fifty successful, talented professionals who participated, thirty—or a full 60 percent—did not score highly enough on the mock exam to graduate under Rhode Island’s high-stakes testing graduation requirement! The fable of the necessity of standardized tests to produce a “career ready” populace—a larger myth even, perhaps, than zombies—had been vanquished. As it turns out, test questions really don’t seem to measure the constellation of skills, knowledge, and attitudes it takes to succeed in the world.

  Of course, the NECAP didn’t disappear right away, so we are still organizing against high-stakes testing in Rhode Island. But we did have some important and lasting successes. In the blink of an eye, a great deal of the framing around this issue has changed. We made it difficult for RIDE and its allies to argue students needed to pass the test to be successful in life, when so many clearly successful people had just failed it. It became easier to break through the shallow “They don’t want high standards” frame, and to point out the arbitrariness of holding hostage a high school diploma for a single standardized assessment. And it taught our fifty volunteer test-takers a valuable lesson, too, creating many new important allies. Many of these elected officials subsequently were key to persuading the state’s General Assembly to pass a resolution condemning the testing graduation requirement.

  Since these actions, students have kept up the pressure. We held a major public forum on alternatives to high-stakes testing, held a sit-in at the department of education, met with Rhode Island’s governor, and more. Through it all, we in the PSU have been inspired by the acts of testing resistance around the country, from Seattle to Portland to Chicago to New York and everywhere in between. These actions gave us the courage to raise our expectations, and we now feel part of an emerging national movement. We hope our story may inspire others to speak out for just, student-centered education transformations.

  Postscript

  In June 2014, the Rhode Island General Assembly passed legislation placing a three-year moratorium on the use of standardized testing as a graduation requirement. During the debate on the floor prior to voting, many legislators explained that it was students’ activism that changed their thinking on the issue. Members of the PSU—who have been working toward this for years—are excited. But there’s no time to rest; we still have lots more work to do to ensure every student in Rhode Island receives the education they deserve.

  518-455-4767

  I’m from North Tonawanda, New York, a little city that no one has heard of between Niagara Falls and Buffalo.
We have some decent schools, the graduating classes are about two hundred and fifty to three hundred students. It’s not a very diverse or interesting city.

  My disdain for standardized testing began in my junior year of high school, when I took AP Biology. It was the teacher’s first year teaching the subject, and it seemed as though he was learning the material just a little before the rest of the class. It was basically up to the students to learn the course themselves if they wanted to cover everything that would be on the AP exam.

  AP exams are written by the College Board and are one example of standardized tests. They are scored from one to five, where five means that the student is “extremely well qualified.” I didn’t initially have a problem with them because they are given once a year, and I thought they were testing the material in a reliable way. However, that year, I was feeling particularly unprepared for the exam. For the first time in my life I left entire essay questions blank and guessed on others. I got a five. That’s when I started to realize that standardized tests weren’t really testing intelligence, and they might just be rubbish.

  By my junior year of high school, I had realized that I had a fair shot at becoming valedictorian, so I began contemplating throwing my grades in order to avoid having to give a speech at graduation. Grades are just numbers, right? Well, at that time I was also looking at colleges, and it turns out colleges think that grades mean something. And since I’d be paying for my own education, I needed all the scholarships that I could get. So I crossed my fingers and hoped I’d be third in the class, but I didn’t throw my grades. And when senior year rolled around I ended up being valedictorian.

  I am quite afraid of public speaking. When it is not a looming threat, I’m really confident. I’m sure I can get up in front of hundreds of people and put a lot of emotion into it and never stutter. But as soon as I found out that I would have to speak at graduation, I went to the principal’s office to beg not to do it. I was still pretty confident at that point, sure I could get up there if I wanted to, and I just argued that I had nothing crucial to say. But I could hardly get a word in edgewise. He said if I didn’t make a speech I would be disrespecting everyone, and then he said, word for word, “It’s not that you don’t have a choice, it’s just that you have a very limited choice.” He meant, You have you do it, but you can choose what you will talk about.

  So I chose to speak about testing. I didn’t like the idea of complaining at graduation, but I couldn’t get up there and say, “I’ll miss you all, these were the best years of our lives!” If I had to stand up there and talk, it had to be about something that I felt somewhat strongly about, and I’m not an overly sentimental person. I wrote eight drafts before I would let my English teacher revise it. Then I wrote four more drafts with her help. In the end she showed it to the principal, who was very angry about it. I had to remove all my attempts at levity. Jokes apparently implied disrespect. I was left with basically a political statement.

  I hate politics. Sure, I hate testing as well, but I dreaded the idea of making a speech, and I dreaded the idea of making that speech. I begged my parents to let me stay home for graduation, asked my dad how I would go about incapacitating the car so we couldn’t get there in time. I couldn’t eat the entire day before. When I got to the park where the commencement ceremony was to take place, I ran into the principal. He told me he loved my speech, and if that was what I took away from high school, it was fine with him. I still don’t know how to interpret that.

  While waiting in line for commencement to start I was nervous, as our school of roughly 275 students had managed to fill a theater with thousands of people. On stage I would be surrounded by a wall of people staring at me. And my damn cap wouldn’t stay on my head. I was so angry that I had to make a speech to please everyone, to avoid disrespecting anyone. I couldn’t enjoy my own graduation day.

  So anyway, I suffered through it and received two standing ovations. People really liked that the title was the state representative’s phone number. I was met with no complaints. A lot of people came up to me afterwards crying, thanking me for doing it. Overall, it was an incredibly stressful experience, but if it gets the word out, I suppose it was okay. What follows is the speech I gave that night.

  “518-455-4767”

  Mr. Woytila, Mr. Fisher, honored guests, parents, friends, families, and members of the class of 2013.

  First and foremost, let’s thank all of our families for their support and guidance over the past eighteen years, and for never giving up on us. We also owe our teachers and administrators many thanks for motivating us to try our hardest and for giving up their free time to help us out. They have all provided us with many great opportunities and have served as excellent role models.

  Now I don’t think I’m qualified to stand up here and give two hundred and fifty students advice, and I’m sure you have received enough motivation and insight from Mike and Mr. Fisher, so I’ll just take the opportunity to voice an opinion. What I would really like to address here is the current state of public education.

  This year, New York has joined four other states in following the Common Core standards. The goal is for every student in New York to learn the same things as every student in all of the other states. And in order to do this, we apparently have to triple the number of standardized tests that students take in exchange for state funding. This year we took assessments at the beginning, middle, and end of each course as part of this new system.

  Some people think this will challenge our students to work harder, and help the US to rise above other countries in academic rankings. They say that once we adjust to the change, these tests will be beneficial. On the other hand many teachers, principals, and administrators across the state have felt the need to retire early, since their job descriptions have changed so drastically that they hardly consider themselves educators anymore. Most say that it has become all about tests and numbers and that there is very little focus on the students.

  Whether you are for or against these assessments seems to depend on how you define learning. Perhaps it is your perspective that better test scores mean your child is understanding more. To me, testing has little connection to learning, and knowledge is not something that can be definitively measured with grades.

  Regardless, these state assessments sit kids down for an exam on the first day of school, testing things that will take them at least a year to learn. That’s pretty discouraging in high school and I can’t imagine what that does to a first grader’s motivation. Learning should be about discovery. Does it make sense to begin your discovery with a summary of the journey?

  No, that’s really just cheating yourself. You see, introducing subjects with the most difficult topics first is not a good way to get people excited about learning. We are students, not statistics. And these tests should have no effect on how we are taught. And they are affecting how we are taught.

  The thing is, our educational system is built for the average student. Multiple choice means that answers need to be watered down, so they test the most general concepts. I believe that we all have far greater potential, but we are taught how to be average. And is that really going to help us when we enter the job market and we are vying for the same job as our brilliant exchange student, Quilin?

  As for the argument that the assessments are challenging our students more, sure that’s true. It’s a challenge to fit the same amount of material into one year with more exams. It’s a challenge to memorize loads of facts in time for the next test. It’s also a challenge to eat a teaspoon of cinnamon in one bite without choking, but what are you really accomplishing?

  How about some statistics? The dropout rate in some parts of the US is about 25 percent. In Finland, it is less than 1 percent. Why? Because in Finland, teaching is left up to the teachers. Standardized tests are few and far between. And guess what? They consistently outperform the US on international math, science, and literacy tests.

  At this point, I’d like to throw a slightly rel
evant quote by a famous person into the mix to make my speech seem more legitimate. That appears to be how these things work. So Albert Einstein once said, “Everybody is a genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” We can’t judge someone’s intelligence by how well he does in a small group of isolated classes. Everyone learns differently, so education is not something that can be successfully standardized.

  Sure, we have to get a lot of people through the system, but there are more efficient ways of doing it. Maybe it’s more cost-effective to have large impersonal classes, but to cram in so much meaningless information? We could learn a lot more if we could discover connections between biology and physics or English and history instead of memorizing lists of isolated facts just long enough to pass tests.

  I mean, you all know that kid in math class who would always ask the teacher, “When will we ever use this in real life?” to which the teacher responds, “You’ll need it on the final exam.” No, that is not the answer. You are learning math because it has useful applications. Yet the nation’s mentality seems to be that we are learning these things just to pass tests. And why do we need to pass tests? To evaluate teachers and get funding.

  But what good is this funding if we are not learning the things that will help us to reach our full potential? I once had a teacher who, after I asked a few too many questions, told me, “it’s not something you can understand, you just have to memorize it.” Don’t ever let anyone tell you that. You are capable of understanding anything you set your minds to. It may take time, it may take patience, but if you really want to understand something, get out there and understand it. You can’t let people try to tell you who you are and what you are worth. That you aren’t as smart as someone else because you scored ten points lower than him on a standardized test. That doesn’t mean anything—grades are just numbers. It’s better to learn and to understand than to get good grades. And no, one does not imply the other.