Above Average

Today starts the fun tradition of standardized testing at Lexie’s school. And she is terrified. The poor thing actually got herself physically sick yesterday, to the point where she couldn’t eat because her stomach was bothering her so much. And the whole thing drives me crazy.

I tried talking to her, explaining that these tests had no effect on her report card, and that she should just do her best and not worry so much. That she was a smart girl, and that she shouldn’t second-guess her intelligence or feel “not good enough” if she has trouble on any of them. Her pretty little face scrunched up in concertation when she asked me if they would hold her back a grade if she failed. I wanted to scream, not at her, but at the system… but instead I scoffed. “Absolutely not! These tests mean NOTHING.” I told her confidently. “Then why do they make us take them?” she asked sincerely. I thought for a minute. Good question, really. But then I came up with the answer.

“Because they need to see how well the school is doing.”

She looked at me quizzically.

“See, if you don’t do well, it means the teacher isn’t teaching you well enough. So it’s all HER fault, not yours.”

Ok, so it probably isn’t really true, but it made her feel better. And stop worrying so much.

But I hear where my girl is coming from. Those stupid tests never made any sense to me. Although I always seemed to ace them. But what, really, did they prove? I know plenty of really intelligent people who stress out completely at the thought of any form of “standardized test.” The fear of failure and inadequacy looms while the clock ticks mercilessly. Minds go blank, and paranoia replaces logic. The thought that my ten-year-old has to deal with these feelings, even for just a week, kills me.

It seems like lately Lexie has been much more aware of the grouping system present in most schools in the world. She informed me the other day that she knew she would be in no classes with any of her three best friends when they got to junior high. I told her that there was no way she could know that for sure, but that since the junior high was a much bigger school, she may well be right. But she shook her head sadly and said, “No, it’s because they will be in all the smart kid’s classes, and I won’t.”

Jump back. My daughter routinely came home with A’s and B’s, maybe the occasional C. And to me, THAT was smart. Her teachers praised her work, and her effort is exemplary. “Why would you say something like that?” I asked her. “YOU are VERY smart!”

“But I don’t get straight A’s,” she said matter-of-factly. “Alex told us that in junior high if you get straight A’s you take special classes. Kara, Rachel and Christina all do. I don’t.”

Honors classes. I should’ve known. The curse of upper education. Stressful whether you take them or not. As I well knew, if you were assigned to Honors classes, you were pressured that much more to do well, because you were EXPECTED to. No excuses. And as my Lexie was realizing, if you WEREN’T, you felt “not good enough.”

“I’m sure they don’t ALL get straight A’s,” I ventured.

“Yes, they do, I’ve seen their report cards.”

I sighed. “Look, Lex, that doesn’t mean anything. Straight A’s aren’t the most important thing. You’re grades are EXCELLENT. I am so proud of you! You work hard, and you do well, and that is what is important. You are a great student, and a smart girl, and none of them are any better than you just because of their grades.”

She shrugged noncommittally. “Whatever.”

I wanted to scream. Why does society have to put so much emphasis on people being “better than?” And who, really, decides how this hierarchy works? Although I can remember in grammar school being just as brainwashed as my daughter is now.

Back when I was in school, they system was much more cavalier about “the smart groups” and “the dumb groups.” They didn’t worry about kid’s feelings or self-esteem. They deliberately put kids in one of four different groups, going from most intelligent to least intelligent, based on (what else?) standardized testing and general grades. I was in Group One all eight years of grammar school – with the exception of one day that I will never forget.

In third grade, I was having difficulty with multiplication. I got the concept, but I had no discipline when it came to memorization. Therefore, on our first multiplication test, I failed. Seeing all the red checkmarks bloodying my paper was traumatic enough, but then I was informed I was to be moved to Group Two. The SECOND smartest kids. At the tender age of 8, I was being told that I was no longer as smart as I had thought, that I wasn’t “good enough.” So for the rest of that afternoon, I worked with Group Two. With teary eyes, I sat through the day, hating Group Two. Not because of the kids themselves, but because of what I was taught they represented: second best. That night, I sat in my parents’ bedroom for four hours and studied. Then next day, I aced the multiplication test and was put back in Group One – where I belonged.

Looking back, it makes my stomach churn. What kind of school system teaches kids that they belong in certain “groups?” That they can never improve? Because for the entire eight years, all the groups remained the same. And the funny thing is, being in Group One means nothing to me now. I’m a paralegal in a job I hate. But Group Two… The “second smartest” group showed us all. Out of the kids in Group Two, there are two highly successful attorneys, an ob/gyn and a pediatrician. Group One? I have no idea. But I doubt the status of “Group One” means as much nowadays to any of us.

I don’t want my daughter to feel “less than.” I don’t care if the system says she’s “average.” Because I don’t think she is. In fact, I think she is anything BUT average. I think my daughter has a good heart, and a loving nature, and a sense of humor, and more intelligence than even SHE realizes. I think she is a hard worker who gets frustrated at times, but who needs ENCOURAGEMENT, not disdain. I hope to God that my daughter listens to ME, and not “the system” when she feels inadequate. Because I know that someday she is going to show them all.

But for now, I just hope she makes it through the ISATs without throwing up.