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Blog: FCAR
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FCAT Trauma
Overwhelms Fourth Grader
Peggy Atkinson, a fourth grade teacher at Lakeview
Elementary School in Sarasota contributes a heartbreaking portrait of a fourth
grader who melts under FCAT pressures.
She stands a whopping 49 inches when barefooted. Her feet don't quite touch the
floor when she sits at her desk. She is a mere peanut of a girl. A blessing to
her family for nine years now. She's new to Florida. Moved here from New Jersey.
For reasons of anonymity, I will call her Annie. Her parents shared that last
year she was an average student and quite shy.
Annie, for reasons of her own, has blossomed this year. She is currently one of
the anchors on our school's morning news show. Her voice is both clear and
strong. She displays no signs of being nervous when the camera is focused upon
her. Annie ran for, and was elected, as one of my class' Student Council
representatives. She decided to take up the violin and has performed in front of
the entire student body.
She is one of those students who take the job of learning very seriously. Annie
was the only one out of my 23 students who earned a place on the A Team last
quarter. In order to achieve that lofty goal, she had to earn straight A's in
all academic areas. Responsible, dependable, independent, motivated, bright,
respectful, and already displaying the fundamentals of good citizenship. Annie.
One of those students every teacher would love to clone. She is one of my very
best FCAT writers. A child who truly has the potential to earn a score of 6 out
of 6.
Feb. 8, 2005, at exactly 9:52 a.m., Annie fell apart. I know the exact time
because that is when I announced that 10 minutes were left to complete the FCAT
essay.
I had done what I could to make the testing experience less painful. A Hello
Kitty hand puppet hung from the overhead projector. On the screen itself sat
three stuffed animals the children had brought with them to school. A small,
tan, bushy-tailed squirrel, a black and brown shaggy-haired dog, and a red
piggy. On the high stool that I utilize from time to time, a rust-colored bear
dressed in denim overalls, white T-shirt, and white leather tennis shoes looked
out over her domain. On the whiteboard, I had drawn the outline of a huge heart
using a purple marker. Inside the heart, I had printed You Can Do This! in giant
letters.
Though it was recommended that teachers rearrange the students' desks, I had
chosen not to do so. I viewed that as just another reminder that the day was
going to be out of the ordinary. Prior to the actual testing session beginning,
I removed the bottle of "Writing Calming" spray that I keep in my classroom
refrigerator. I offered to spray the back of any child's neck who wanted the
spray's magic power. Every single child eagerly accepted that token of extra
hope and help. In reality, the cool mist was simply Cucumber Melon Fantasy body
spray.
I willed myself to appear calm and collected. I knew any anxiety I displayed
would be mirrored in my students. We reviewed the basic FCAT writing techniques.
Next, we practiced something truly important. Stress reducing techniques.
Remember to take deep, quiet breaths. Press the palms of your hands together.
Close your eyes and find a happy place in your mind.
What went wrong, Annie?
I find myself kneeling in front of her desk, watching as huge tears drop on her
FCAT essay paper. "Annie, look at me. What's wrong?"
I hand her some tissues out of my Hello Kitty tissue dispenser. But Annie is
sobbing. Her words are difficult to understand when she tries to answer me. I
finally comprehend. She is terrified that she won't finish in time.
"Annie, focus on me. You can do this."
"Noooo, I'm not going to finish."
"That's OK. They will just grade as much as you got done."
The entire time I am trying to comfort her another part of my brain is saying,
"Tick, tock. Tick, tock."
"If I don't finish today, can I work on it tomorrow?"
"No, hon, this is it."
Tuesday, Feb. 8, 2005, at exactly 10:02 a.m., it is now my job to announce that
all pencils need to be put down and test booklets closed. Tears are still
rolling down her face.
Annie didn't finish.
What kind of testing system -- within a window only 45 minutes wide -- has the
power to reduce a self-confident, intrinsically motivated, straight A student to
an ocean of tears? And, if that's the effect it had on Annie, what about all the
others?
What about the little girl who came in to class tardy with swollen eyes due to
crying about the test? The boy who spent 15 minutes immediately following
reading his prompt with his hands covering his face? Or the girl who was so
excited and thrilled that she had performed well? I didn't have the heart to
tell her I had noticed that she failed to begin with an introductory paragraph.
What about the fourth-graders in Arcadia, Wauchula and Port Charlotte who are
still dealing with the aftermath of the hurricanes? Isn't it possible those
events negatively influenced their learning as well as test performance?
Accomplished teachers acknowledge the myriad challenges facing our students
today. Those challenges actually influence our assignments and teaching
strategies. We are cognizant that not all of our students learn in exactly the
same ways. We are also very aware that our students' performances cannot be
assessed using just one evaluation method. Perceived as part of our actual
service to students is utilizing a variety of testing methods including both
formal and informal.
Why isn't that how we assess our fourth-graders' writing skills?
By the arrival of the testing date, we have spent an average of 45 minutes a
day, every day, instructing our students on both basic and advanced "how to
write for FCAT" techniques. Our fourth-graders have to be able to write to both
narrative and expository prompts. I have to wonder why they aren't held
responsible for just one or the other. Add a testing date in early February, and
the depth at which those two types of writing can be explored is limited.
By testing day, fourth-grade teachers have viewed, studied, analyzed, modified,
emphasized, constructed, adapted, interpreted, and graded an unbelievable number
of our students' writings. We know which of our students are accomplished
writers ( by FCAT standards), and which are still having difficulty making the
connection between speaking and writing. We know who is making steady progress
and who continues to flounder.
I, personally, am not certain how a "one size fits all" timed essay test on a
topic that may or may not relate to a child's life experiences is the milestone
for which we should strive.
What is to be done about this? What are some options?
A possible solution involves students learning narrative writing in fourth grade
and concentrating on expository in fifth. Persuasive writing could be explored
in depth at the sixth-grade level.
Another option: Letters could be written, phone calls made, asking for, at the
very least, extended time for the completion of the essay.
Or, maybe there is a little bit of Rosa Parks in each of us.
What exactly happens if a fourth-grader is absent on the day of the FCAT essay
test? There is a designated makeup day. What happens if a fourth-grader is
absent on both the original test day and the makeup day? Actually, nothing. No
automatic retention. There is no summer school for writing.
In the meantime, I have to admire, stand in awe of, and applaud those
fourth-grade teachers who somehow return to the FCAT challenge year after year.
I'm thinking it must be similar to the phenomenon of childbirth. They must
forget just how painful the experience was.
Peggy Atkinson is a National Board Certified Teacher and Middle
Childhood Generalist. She resides in Sarasota and teaches at Lakeview Elementary
School.
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