Temptations
“How tempting to live in limbo and wait for my real life to return. But this was my real life now. Life is a thing that mutates without warning, not always in enviable ways.”
— Diane Ackerman, “One Hundred Names for Love”
When a test is a barrier
Sam is taking two online classes this fall, one in word processing, another in spreadsheets. I’ve written before about the requirements he needs to “upgrade” from a certificate to an associate’s degree in computer technology. He’s just four classes away. It’s very exciting.
Both of this fall’s classes are in another department at the community college, and both required him to thoroughly read the syllabus and take a quiz over its contents. The students have to get a 100 on the quiz (they have unlimited attempts) before they can start the class. In a way, its a brilliant way to underscore the importance of reading and understanding the course requirements. In some of the larger lecture classes I’ve seen, professors spend the first day of class reading the syllabus to the students. And I’ve seen students drop once they realize the expectations.
Sam sailed through the syllabus quiz for one class but not the other. We’re not quite sure what has happened — we suspect, actually, there is a scoring problem — but it is yet to be resolved. I sat with him yesterday as he tried, again and again and again and again, to secure that perfect score. Before I helped him devise some evaluation strategies, he had no idea how to figure out what he was doing wrong.
It was like being thrown into the ocean with no clue where to swim to safety. You can imagine how wild and panicked a person’s thinking might get. And then, when you consider the true stakes how angry you could get.
He can’t get the keys to the rest of the online kingdom of the class until he does. An email to the professor about the problem has brought only the suggestion that he drop the class.
And that brings me to the point of this post — there is testing and then there are barriers.
When I was in junior high school, a gymnastics unit was added to our curriculum, probably in part because of the wildly popular Olga Korbut and the amazing things she did at the 1972 Olympics.
I saved those Seventeen magazine pages with a story and photo about her for ages.
Our instruction was pathetic. Our teacher couldn’t do any of the moves, and was continually recruiting a student to demonstrate a move to the others (with that student likely demonstrating that move to the teacher for the first time about 90 seconds earlier.)
Once “demonstrated,” we could practice on the equipment, serving as spotters for each other. At the end of the unit, we had to perform the different moves for our grade. We were scored on our ability to do the moves — nothing about the rhythm and composition of a routine, our body poise, or other criteria used to evaluate a gymnast.
The test was sequential and, theoretically, based on difficulty. Our teacher had no idea what was a hard move and what was easy, in my opinion. But, you couldn’t test for a B if you couldn’t do all the moves needed for a C.
Because I couldn’t go from a crouch on the beam to a standing position using only one leg — a “C” level move — I was not allowed to test for any other grade levels, even though I’d been working on all of them, as were my classmates, for six weeks.
Lots of girls didn’t get the grade they deserved for having taught themselves gymnastics.
That’s not instruction, and that’s not testing, so don’t make like its the bar exam.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #128
Peggy: I made a green smoothie this morning.
Sam: I’ve had that before. It’s got kiwi and green apple.
Peggy: This one has apple, but it also has kale.
Sam: Oh, man …
Overheard in the Wolfe House #127
Sam: I had a crazy dream last night.
Peggy: Oh, yeah?
Sam: I dreamt I slept for months. I was still alive, though. (pauses) I don’t suppose that could happen in real life.
… And into 2012
The 2012 Old Farmer’s Almanac came into the newsroom today and I immediately flipped to the general weather forecast to see what was ahead for us next year. They claim we are in a period of significant change and the low level of sunspot and space weather activity reinforced their read of the long-term weather patterns ahead.
No El Nino or La Nina. It doesn’t look too good for Texas, the almanac says. While milder temperatures are in store for 2012, the drought will continue with below-normal precipitation.
I’m inclined to take their word for it. When Sam was in middle school, to prepare for the science fair, he conducted an experiment to check the accuracy of the the Old Farmer’s Almanac that year — not the general weather forecast, but its prediction for rainfall.
He gave them a B-plus.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #126
Sam: I have some shocking news.
Peggy: What’s that?
Sam: I have my first quiz and I have to get a 100.
Peggy: Really? How many chances do you get?
Sam: It’s unlimited.
Summer of ’11
David Minton shot this in the livestock barn at the North Texas State Fair and Rodeo. You do what you gotta do to stay cool. Today was officially the 63rd day of the summer over 100 degrees.
Meteorologists say we could see relief this weekend, unless a tropical storm forms in the Gulf.
If so, we’re cooked.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #125
Peggy: Dixie has been bad today. She’s been barking indoors and chasing the cat.
Sam: The main reason it’s bad when she barks inside is because you can’t talk when she barks. She interrupts your conversation.
Probably Not Probable Cause
Sam started asking me a lot of questions about when might a police officer pull you over, so many that I asked him whether he got pulled over recently.
He had. In Flower Mound.
As far as I can deduce, he got pulled over because the kind of car he was driving and his license plate closely matched someone the police were looking for.
And what was the probable cause, you ask?
Sam still has a frame around his license plate.
He wondered if his identity had been stolen and whether he should turn his car in. We had a long talk about first amendment rights, and private property rights, and who the police work for. I have no idea how much of that sank in.
But tomorrow, we’ll pull the frame off the plate.
The Case Against Long ARDs/IEPs
A Sunday piece in the New York Times (Tierney, John, “Do You Suffer From Decision Fatigue?” Aug. 17, 2011) explained something we figured out instinctively in the Wolfe house a long time ago — don’t make important decisions when you’re tired.
Tierney explains the nuance to it, and its whys and hows. The ability to make good decisions fluctuates; it’s not an inherent trait or a cultivated talent.
(And, as I hoped in taking my GRE in college, a bar of chocolate really does help.)
Tierney, a respected science writer, reports:
… studies show that people with the best self-control are the ones who structure their lives so as to conserve willpower. They don’t schedule endless back-to- back meetings. They avoid temptations like all-you-can-eat buffets, and they establish habits that eliminate the mental effort of making choices. Instead of deciding every morning whether or not to force themselves to exercise, they set up regular appointments to work out with a friend. Instead of counting on willpower to remain robust all day, they conserve it so that it’s available for emergencies and important decisions.
Which leads me to marathon ARD meetings, those all-day deals to decide what educational goals — and resources — will be devoted to your child for an entire year.
That whole go-around-the-table report thing? That can wear you down like a bride and groom trying to decide what to register for.
And plodding through each individual goal? You may just take the recommendation, rather than contribute to meaningfully to the weighing of different values.
As if special needs parents aren’t worn down to begin with. Yet, parents aren’t part of ARD meeting preparations. They need to review test results and be able to check for their own understanding of the findings. They need to understand the goals and objectives of the speech therapist, the teacher, the occupational therapist, the counselor. More than ever, I’m convinced that the document dump and stilted discussion that occurs at typical ARD meetings guarantees parents will have damaging decision-fatigue, and in the way that Tierney describes it.
We never put a lot of stock in most of the meetings … as long as resource and treatment options were open. We worked on goals for Sam in other ways.
But for parents who have a lot riding on the outcome of the meetings, it’s no wonder that they can turn hostile.
Just like the salesman who wears you down in order to raise his commission, you feel taken. Combine that with the ferociousness any parent has in protecting their child, and you’ve got a meltdown in the making.