The STAARs at Night

There is a big debate going on right now about the validity and fairness of standardized testing. I don't have a high school student (yet) so I admit I am ignorant on the debate about making the test's scores part of a student's final grade. I do, however, have a fifth grade student and her final score could impede her progress of going on to enjoy middle school with her friends.

All of my kids are different when it comes to their strengths and weaknesses. My fifth grade daughter has always struggled in academics but she shines in her artistic pursuits. She was a late reader and it takes her longer to catch on to mathematical concepts than it does my other children. She has no learning disabilities, it's just how she is. And we accept her for that. That doesn't mean that we don't expect her to work hard or that we give up on her or that we don't do everything we can to help her succeed. She is 100% capable of learning and she will do it, she just does it at her own pace. In fact her little mind is like a steel trap; once she latches on to a concept it stays there forever. We encourage her to ask questions in class, she goes to tutoring, we work with her on her homework, her teachers send extra practice home, we print out our own workbook pages on weekends and on long breaks. My daughter will be prepared for life. 

So what's the problem, you ask? Testing. Not just the STAAR (State of Texas Assessments of Academic Readiness), but the benchmarks and the district assessments and the teacher's exams. Is there a week or a day that goes by that these kids don't have a test? Is there a time that these teachers can actually teach and not administer an exam? Is there a time that these kids can relax and not worry about when their next assessment is coming up? 

As I said before, each of my children are very different. My son is in seventh grade. He could care less if there a test coming up. He barely has to study for his exams and he makes an 'A'. He breezes through his assessments, comes home, does his homework, practices his trumpet and then reads his comic books without a second thought. My fifth grade daughter was completely stressed about the STAAR test. She knew that she was struggling in math and she knew that if she didn't pass the STAAR she may not pass the fifth grade. That was a lot of pressure for an eleven year old. The only thing that made it easier on her was the knowledge that she could work her math problems out her way. No one was going to be coming up behind her telling her that she wasn't working her problems out the way that the district required. My youngest, my third grader daughter, cries every time she has to take any kind of test. But then she goes to school and usually does very well. I have never been able to pinpoint why she gets so anxious, considering she generally gets good grades. The only thing I can think of is that it seems that nearly every week she is taking a test of some sort and she gets burned out taking them.

I honestly don't know what to do about this conundrum. I have seen example questions of what my district feels their standards ought to be. I have seen example questions the STAAR test feels the nation's standards ought to be. They are in line with each other and neither feels that out of line to me. If yours aren't, SPEAK UP! It's you're right as a parent, as an educator, as a board member, as a tax payer! Demand better!

Here is my (ideal) proposed solution to the too much testing problem. IF the district is doing their job and hiring quality educators, THEN the exams that the quality educator comes up with should be a fair assessment of a student's understanding of the material learned in the classroom. A teacher's exams should replace a district's benchmark tests, which I don't see a need for to begin with considering my district insists on districts exams as well. Getting rid of just one test frees up much more time for actual classroom instruction. As for state mandated or national mandated tests, I can't help you with that. You reap what you sow. If you want change, you have to make change. Educate yourself before going to the polls. We've gotten ourselves into this mess, we can get ourselves out of it.

By the way, my daughter passed the STAAR and I am one proud mama. 

Lice Wars

I have gone my entire life without having to experience the itchy creepy crawly feeling associated with having lice. Until this weekend. That'll teach me to snuggle with my kids. My youngest daughter started scratching furiously at her head a few weeks ago. And, being a diligent mother, I began checking her head regularly for those little vermin called lice. I never saw anything until Friday. There was a little teeny tiny thing crawling in her hair. I caught it, killed it, and Googled it. I had no clue what lice looked like, but I was about to get an education.

When you find out you have a head lice infestation the first thing you do is question your hygiene. Are my kids clean enough? Do I wash our sheets often enough? Should I cut their hair shorter? Should I change our shampoo? Do I vacuum often enough? Should I clean my furniture? How old are our mattresses? Why do I let them share their brushes with each other? How did I miss this?

I'm telling you this is all hogwash. First of all, lice is super common childhood ailment. As crowded as our schools are, it's easy for the little boogers to find new hosts everyday. All it takes is a little head to head contact. Does your kid play sports? Then they risk getting lice every time they huddle up. How about every time they have small group lessons? Or tell each other secrets on the playground? Or share head phones for the computer? Or share pillows in a reading nook?

Wanna talk about hygiene? Lice actually prefer clean hair to dirty hair because it's easier to climb on. That blows the theory that only dirty people get lice out of the proverbial water. Also, girls are more likely to get lice than boys. I have a feeling that may be because we're more likely to share secrets, brushes, and hats than our dirtier, stingier counter parts.

I went the traditional route and used the nasty chemical shampoo to treat my kids' lice as well as my own. Yes, I got lice through all the snuggling and loving I get from my kids. It seems that Daddy, surprisingly, escaped the infestation, but I still made him suffer the treatment. It's only fair. Because of my migraines I don't use a lot of chemicals around the house. So I could have tried some of the home remedies like mayonnaise, olive oil, petroleum jelly, gasoline and kerosene. But they were a little too much, and kind of gross, even for me.

While it really sucks getting lice, take it as a sign that your kid is clean and socially healthy. I think of it as a sign that I must be doing something right. I am raising kids that not only have good hygiene, but are little social butterflies. But I still told them not to tell anyone they had lice. That's just gross.

My Snowflakes

Each of my children have their own distinct personalities. They're like snowflakes. No two are alike. Sure, they all have similarities. They all have brown hair and brown eyes. But Timothy is musical mathematical.  Rebecca is artistic and poetic. Diana is my athletic writer. Along with their strengths, come their weaknesses. And as much as I love their strengths and encourage them to pursue their interests, I have to help them work through their weaknesses so that they don't hinder them when they leave the safety of my nest.

Timothy is very logical and ordered. Science, math and music make a lot of sense to him. Writing, not so much. In writing there are too many rules that can be fudged. I can write this sentence without any commas and it would still make sense. But, in this sentence, I need multiple commas in order for it to make sense because, should I leave them out, it would be incorrect. He made good enough grades last year to get into the highest level classes available. He is doing really well in all of them except language arts. The concepts that he is not grasping deal with the rules of the English language. I can't say that I blame him. You try explaining to a child how to form compound and complex sentences without Googling it. I dare you. But if you ask him to solve a math problem in his head, he can do it. And he made the top band right out of Beginner's Band. He loves playing his trumpet and recently expressed an interest in learning to play multiple instruments. 

Rebecca's kryptonite is math. Always has been. I swear she has arithmaphobia. As soon as you ask her a math question, no matter how simple, she balks. And I am out of solutions as to how to help her. I have screamed, yelled, drawn diagrams, played charades, done it for her, bought workbooks, sat her down with computer programs, sent her to tutoring, taught her different ways, cried, prayed, gotten extra work from her teachers, ignored the problem, and gotten a drink. And, no, she does not have ADD, ADHD, dyslexia or anything else. She's just plain bad at math. That magic moment of comprehension just hasn't happened for her yet. Her teachers have all been really great about letting her sit up front so she can whisper the problems out loud (which seems to work for her) and give her some extra time on her tests. But if you ask her to write a story or a poem, she's your girl. And she is developing a really good singing voice. She gets that from Daddy.

Diana is my little spitfire. I'm not surprised that she wanted to get involved in student council. If anyone can convince anyone to do anything, it's Diana. She loves to write in her spare time. She makes up stories and keeps them in a little notebook. She is my outdoors girl. I think she would live in the backyard if I would let her. What I need her to do is work on her reading. As good a writer as she is, you'd think she'd be a really good reader. It's not the reading we have to work on, per se, it's the comprehension. She loves to read. In fact, she reads on a level a few grades higher than she is, but her comprehension is lagging. I am pretty familiar with the books that she is reading so I am able to make up some good questions to test her comprehension. If I lead her the right way, she can get to the right answer but she should be able to answer my questions without me having to lead her. I think she understands what she is reading, but she either isn't paying attention to the details or to she is too busy making up her own stories that are inspired by what she is reading to care.

My three little snowflakes. I love that they all have their own unique interests, even if it means more work for me in the run long. I think it's fascinating watching them grow and turn into these real little people. They're no longer these helpless little babies. They are tiny little people with their own personalities and now it's up to me to help guide them into adulthood. This is so exciting. I hope I don't screw it up.

School Ties

I have a confession to make. I haven't been the best example for my children. I quit high school at the end of my junior year and home schooled my senior year. I never felt that I fit in anywhere in school. But I also never made the effort to fit in. I had a handful of friends in all of the high school cliques but I never made any long lasting friendships the way my husband did. That is something I have always been jealous of.

I could have breakfast with the Misfits, lunch with the Thespians, hang out after school with the Musicians and the Stoners, get on the bus with the Nerds and then spend my weekends with kids that didn't even go to my school. It only took one bad relationship to teach me to never date boys that went to the same school I did. The reasons I left school are much too complicated to explain in black and white, and I don't regret the decision, but it has led to some lonely times as an adult.

I don't have any high school reunions to look forward to. In fact, I look forward to my husband's high school reunions. What can I say? I live vicariously through his time tested friendships. I did recently get invited to my Thespian Troupe's reunion. We were the first Thespian Troupe in our school because we went to a new high school. We set a lot of the ground rules. I guess it was kind of a big deal now that I think of it. But I was actually surprised to get the invite.

It was the only society I ever joined, until college anyway. At that time, theater was all I ever wanted to do. It was all any of us ever wanted to do. It was the common bond that joined us all together. Actors, costumers, stage managers, directors, lighting technicians, sound artists... But I didn't participate very much on my high school stage. When I was younger, before high school, I had gotten involved in local community theaters and had formed deep bonds with the people there. That was where my friends were. That was where my heart was. That was where my passion was. That was where I wanted to be. And that was where I stayed for nearly 20 years. I'd still be there today had it not been for my stroke in 2010.

Now I am invited to this reunion. I feel a little hypocritical going because I didn't contribute anything to my Thespian Troupe. I thought about not going at all. I don't have anything to show to anyone. I don't feel that I made anything of myself. I didn't form any long lasting friendships with anyone. But I want to see these people. They still mean something to me. The best part about theater is that they welcome everyone and for the most part, they welcomed me.

Who cares if we didn't all become famous? Who cares if we all gained some weight (well I did)? I'm sure none of us are where we thought we would be when we left high school. It'll be fun to see what happened to everyone. Where we all went and how we all got there. Who knows? Maybe I'll get some ideas for a new script. After all these years, I still can't stay away from theater, even though now I'm a struggling (very struggling) playwright.

Maybe I am capable of committing to something. Script writing may be slow going, but I have been making progress. So maybe I'm not such a bad example after all. All I know is, I made the right decision at the right time. But I will do everything I can to keep my kids in school. There were things that made life unbearable at 17, but I often wonder how life would have been different if I had stuck it out just one more year. I'm going to go to that reunion. And I am going to have a great time. And I'm going to come home and tell my kids all about it. (Well, the PG parts of it, anyway.) Because it's the only part of high school I can still be proud to be a part of.

My Education Soap Box

One of the reasons we settled where we did, in the school district where we live, was because the district's success rates and statistics matched up with what we wanted for our young family's future. At that time. But times change. Statistics change. Success rates change. And now we are faced with living in an area that is less promising than what we want for our kids.

Granted we are making preparations to move to a better area, which sadly is only a few miles down the road, but what do we, as parents, in the mean time to help our kids be successful? What if we are unable to make the move? What if the other school district fails us as well? How do we teach our children? How do we prepare them for the future?

I come from a long line of teachers. My Grandma was a teacher, my mom is a teacher and I worked in the school district as a substitute teacher for years, so I have a soft spot when it comes to teachers. But they can't do everything. They are not your babysitter. They are not there to teach your kid manners. They are not a punching bag. They are not a substitute parent. They are there to teach. To mentor. To guide.

Your kids are a reflection of you. I understand that not everyone can be home to help with homework and study guides. I understand that you can't take your kids to museums, parks, or to the zoo every weekend. Neither can we. Times are tough. But we have to be a good influence on our children.

Do chores together. Walk the dog together. Read together. Play a game together. Eat dinner together. Kids have a better chance at success when families eat dinner together. Cook together. Cooking teaches math and science skills. Go grocery shopping together. Shopping teaches your children about budgets and making good decisions. There are real life experiences that parents have the opportunity to teach their kids that a teacher doesn't have time to.

There are many free educational websites. There are documentaries on television. There are volunteer opportunities. There are libraries. Supplemental resources abound. You yourself are a supplemental resource. I want my kids to work hard so they can play hard. I want them to learn how to work smarter, not harder. I will not fail them. Their teachers will not fail them. Their schools will not fail them. They will not fail themselves. They will take what they are given and they will work with it to be whatever they want to be.

And I am so proud of my kids already.

My Wonderful Kids

Bad Backpack

My daughters begged us for new backpacks this year. It didn't matter that their old backpacks were in perfectly good condition. It didn't matter that backpacks cost money and we had already spent about $35,081 on school supplies and clothes already. They wanted new backpacks. My youngest daughter received a new backpack for her birthday. She loved it. And my oldest daughter was finally content to use last year's bag. Then a generous neighbor went and ruined it all. She gave my oldest daughter a new backpack. Not just any backpack. A really cool, one-strapped style backpack. The kind I don't approve of, just so you know. Now my youngest daughter was insanely jealous. Nothing was good enough for her. Everyday was a struggle. Every shopping trip was a fight. I finally gave in, like any other terrible mother would, and bought her a new backpack. The one-strap kind.

I found the new bag at Walgreens for $10. I'll be damned if I'm going to spend more than $20 on a backpack that my kids are going to hate the next year. And apparently, you get what you pay for. This particular bag is made by Urban Sport. It was barely big enough to fit her 2" three ring binder. In fact, in the first week of school, she broke one of the zippers off because she was forcing it closed. I gave her a lesson on cramming everything into a tiny space more effectively. It worked. For two more weeks.

Photo of the ill-fated bag I bought my daughter

Last night, she broke the other zipper off. Seriously? I know I only paid $10 for this backpack that my daughter begged me for that I didn't want to buy her in the first place, but to only last for three weeks seems a bit ridiculous to me. Especially considering that the $15 backpacks I bought last year are in great condition and still sitting in their closet. (Those are made by Jansport, by the way.) Lesson learned, I suppose.

The zipper didn't just break, it came off completely. 

My daughter went to school this morning with her birthday bag and the knowledge that mommy is always right. She never needed that one-strapped tiny backpack. And she's perfectly happy using the one she had to begin with. Now she owes me $10.