#evaluatethat

The latest wave of school reform is focused on linking student test scores to teacher evaluations. There are a bajillion good reasons not to do that, and a couple lousy ones in favor, but this isn't exactly about that.

This is about the backlash to it, wherein some teachers have taken to writing little Facebook stories about the ways in which they've helped students that can't be measured by a test. I have a couple of those, and this is a decent place to share them. I actually don't feel comfortable sharing them on Facebook for reasons I'm not sure I can articulate.

Anyway, Gemma* was a freshmen in my English class when, a few months into the class, it occurred to me that she wasn't really doing that well. She tried, and she turned everything in, which counts for a lot. If you have a rowdy class, you turn your attention to those little fires to put out first before you turn your attention to a girl who's quiet, respectful, and working. But it became hard to ignore: her writing was awful. Her spelling was bad. I looked at her test scores, I looked at her grades, I looked at everything I could look at, and then I called the counselor. Although Gemma's first language was Spanish, she had been enrolled in schools here since kindergarten. She had been designated as an English language learner, and been in ELL classes for a full ten years. Most students test out of it much sooner than that. The counselor, the student, her aunt, and a special ed professional and I had a meeting wherein we decided it would be best to test her for special ed services. Ultimately, she qualified, and was able to receive the help she needed for the rest of her high school career. She graduated two years ago. #evaluatethat

Three weeks ago, I woke up to a message on Facebook from a former student. I write personal letters to all my graduating seniors. Alyssa was writing to tell me that she had kept my letter over the years. It was one of the only things she had kept from high school, but she likes to get it out and re-read it periodically, because it encourages her and reminds her that "it's okay to be me." #evaluatethat

Last week, Carey was having a bad day. He said something about how he had already ruined his life, and he thought it would be better if he weren't alive. I didn't take it as a suicide threat, because it wasn't delivered that way. Nevertheless, I pulled him out of class later that day to talk to him. We sat and chatted about a lot of things, and he admitted that he normally didn't feel that way, it was just a rough morning. He had big plans, and wanted to follow through with them. Near the end of our conversation, I reminded him that he could come talk to me whenever he needed. I asked, "you know I'm on your side, right?" He said he knew. #evaluatethat

Last May, Jessica came in after school. "Ms. Mockula, you know that letter you wrote me for the scholarship?" "Sure," I answered, half-turning to my computer thinking that she needed another copy. "Well... I got it!" It was a huge scholarship, and it was going to help pay a pretty good chunk of her tuition at a private school. #evaluatethat

Although each of these is a real, specific event, they're also representative of countless others. I was reminded of Gemma because I had a similar meeting today: we discovered that a kid I thought needed services already had been identified as special ed in a previous district. We just didn't have his cumulative file because he had moved schools so many times. Alyssa's story is one I've heard from many, many of my alumni. It sounds like a lot of them keep their letters. And the students I counsel, and the students I write letters of recommendation for... I couldn't begin to keep track of how many over the years.

And yet none of that is "value-added." None of that shows up on test scores. None of that "counts."

I'm not trying to be self-aggrandizing. I don't think I go above and beyond the call of duty. I think most of my colleagues do the same kinds of stuff, some of them a great deal more. Which is why test scores and percentages and value-added measures et cetera mean so little to me: because that's all bullshit. It's not the work of teaching. I do good work every day, and only some of it involves my subject area. A lot more of it involves those kids knowing they have someone in their corner. And you just can't evaluate that.



*All student names changed.