Standardized Testing

As North Carolina chooses more and more standardized testing as the way to measure student growth, a few subjects are getting lost along the way. A friend of mine who teaches at an elementary school was reprimanded recently for teaching science and social studies because those subjects are not on the End-of-Grade test. Unfortunately, spelling and grammar are getting lost along the way as well. After all, if we tell a child how to use correct grammar, we are damaging self esteem or being unsympathetic to cultural language development. What matters is the ability to clearly communicate so that people do not judge you based on language. It's sad to think that a brilliant mind is hiding behind language that is being hindered by a number two pencil.

Holding Our Tongues

I taught English in Eastern Europe in the 90s, and I became accustomed to the snail's pace of Budapest's public transportation system. When I returned home to the US, I found that I moved more slowly, was more patient with pokey drivers, and didn't mind the wait for a mechanic to finish the job. I did find, however, that the 280 million who had stayed behind were strikingly rude when it came to the road. For months after returning, I was flipped off, cursed, honked at, and tailed at alarming proximities. I found that I had to speed it up to avoid the abuse.

This morning I discovered that I was, sadly, thinking again as an American. Waiting at a stoplight near my home, I looked up, noticed a clear intersection, and proceeded to turn right on red. The woman behind me had decided in the mean time to go around my car and turn right in front of me. By the time I realized what she was doing, I was already turning. We avoided a collision, but I got the impression that she considered the fault to be mine. No wave. No shoulder shrug. No nonverbal apology. I was entitled after all, right? Of course I was! Her impatience had almost caused a wreck. My entitlement led me to try to come alongside her to give her one of my looks, those stares of terror I often use to replace the bird I just can't bring myself to flip. It was not to be. For five miles, she would not allow me to pass. Every time I changed lanes, she swerved to pull in front of me. So for five miles, we played cat and mouse. I would change lanes to pass her, and she would swerve. It was ridiculous, infuriating, juvenile, ungodly, and rather American. I seriously considered following her to share with her some of my articulate verbage that I tout so well!

When I arrived at my 7:15 am meeting today, my colleagues met my story not with shock and horror at her behavior but rather shock and horror at mine. Who was this raving madwoman flailing her arms telling the story of someone else's atrocious behavior? For the value of a good story, I'm thankful to the woman in the yellow jeep. For the value of good friends who will will tell you when you're being ridiculous, I'm thankful to my LT gang.