Why tests alone fail

A sports quote with unknown attribution captures perfectly why standardized tests alone will never truly be able to identify if a child is going to be successful:

 

They measured my height,

They measured my weight,

But they never measured my heart.

 

We could slightly alter this sentiment and it would communicate what teachers, parents, and even students know to be true:

 

 

They measured my proficiency in math,

They measured my proficiency in reading,

But the never measured my passion for learning.



What have we learned this year?

Today (June 12) is the last day of school in my district. As students get ready to leave our schools later this morning for summer vacation it is an appropriate time to ask:

What have we learned this year?

I hope we have learned how to be better readers, writers, and thinkers.

I hope we have learned more about math and science.

I hope we have learned to play the trumpet or the sax or the violin or cello better.

I hope that we have learned more about how to sing and dance.

I hope we have learned to build things and fix things and create things.

But, more importantly . . .

I hope we have learned how to listen better.

I hope we have learned to build friendships.

I hope we have learned that while people are different that is OK.

I hope that we have learned that our similarities are much more important than our differences.

I hope that we have learned to be passionate about things that matter.

I hope that we have learned that words and actions can hurt others.

I hope that we have learned that lifting people up is so much better than pushing people down.

I hope that we have learned that problems can be solved, even really big and difficult problems.

I hope that we have learned that even though people disappoint us we should still believe in the goodness of others.

I hope that we have learned to assume the best about people.

I hope that we have learned that we should lead lives full of trust, hope, and love.

I hope that as we have become better students . . .

we have also become better people.

"The mule's in the ditch!"

Next Sunday is Father's Day.

My father died in November 2009. Ever since then Father's Day has been somewhat bittersweet.

When my father died, my sister and I helped my mother go through what he left behind. I brought home some of his tools, some clothes, and, most importantly, his work gloves.

The gloves, beat up and used though they were, have become one of my prized possessions. Every time I work around my house I use these work gloves.

And when I do, I think of him.

My father was a school teacher. In his professional life he did not use work gloves. Yet these work gloves represent the kind of life that my father lived.

My father grew up in a small town in Oklahoma. His parents were sharecroppers. His childhood was spent on a farm. He attended a one room school house. He worked on a farm until he went away to college.

From this beginning my father developed a strong set of values that are represented by these work gloves. He was a doer. While he was not adverse to thinking about the best possible solution, he would often say, "The mule's in the ditch." It was his way of reminding me that it was time to get busy. We could talk about solving the problem, but every minute spent talking left the "mule in the ditch."

My father believed that working hard was important. No matter what profession you were in, a person needed to work hard, to do the job.

So I try to live my life that way. As a way to honor my father. But more importantly, to get the mule out of the ditch.