The PARCC Test Won't Solve Anything - and it won't "fix' public education

The new Common Core State Standards, and the associated standardized assessments like PARCC, have been touted as the "magical cure" for all that ills public education. Nothing could be further from the truth. Here's my latest piece for the Denver Post, which explains why:

PARCC Won't Solve Our Problems.

The Post-Modern Puzzle of Good Writing & Literature.

Post-modern ...

It's just a word that sounds cool. And many literary types wish they could appreciate post-modernism, even if they can't. Every one talks about Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow, and often it's just to note how little of it they've read. For example, "I've tried to read it, but only got to page 47 ..." And, I am about to begin the post-modern discussion of Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried with my AP Lang juniors. They are always a bit blown away by the creative blending of fiction and reality. And, the book is accessible enough that they aren't scared of like young readers are of Pynchon. So, that's what makes Lenika Cruz's recent essay for The Atlantic about "Post-Modernism - for Kids" so cool. Cruz takes a look at the children's classic "Lemony Snicket" Series of Unfortunate Events and argues that what made it so popular and engaging for kids is the same literary qualities that make Post-Modernism such a complex and engaging challenge for adults.

In college, I encountered postmodern novels including Italo Calvino’s If on a winter’s night a traveler…, Don Delillo’s White Noise, and Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49. My professors presented them as works that were radical, at least in their day. But to me the tone and techniques they deployed felt familiar and somehow comforting. For an example of postmodern hallmarks—such as metafiction, the unreliable narrator, irony, black humor, self-reference, maximalism, and paranoia—look no further than this excerpt from the seventh Unfortunate Events book, The Ersatz Elevator.

 
And that made me think about the idea of literature as a puzzle. According to writer Peter Turchi, literature is "a puzzling experience." In his new book, A Muse & a Maze: Writing as a Puzzle, Mystery, and Magic, Turchi examines and seeks to explain the "puzzle of the written word" as he explains the origins and significance of puzzles and similar mind games in society. Jigsaw puzzles have fascinated us for centuries, and they continue to sell well even in the era of digital media and X-box. In exploring the history of puzzles and games, Turchi explores the medium of narrative writing and wonders about the puzzling nature of stories. His basic explanation is that "all writers are puzzle makers," as they carefully construct and slowly reveal a complete portrait of an idea over the course of many pages. It's a fascinating way to look at literature and worth considering as we craft lessons for readers.

In a footnote I’d like to see appended to every article on Y.A. and every other B.S. genre browbeating, Turchi writes: “Is Toni Morrison’s Beloveda ghost story? Is Wuthering Heights a romance novel? Is Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses a western? … Outside of publishers’ sales meetings, when is it necessary or useful to attach labels to books?”

The analysis of literature, or simply the enjoyment of a well crafted tale, is really about appreciating the puzzling craft of narrative. So many disparate parts come together to create the ultimate paragraph, and for a reader, it's as gratifying to read that last sentence as it is to place that final jigsaw. Each moment brings not only satisfaction, but also understanding.

Reading Tom Robbins' Still Life with Woodpecker

A former student - a senior now who is probably one of the most astute readers I've had in high school classes - let me know that he is currently reading Tom Robbin's classic Still Life with Woodpecker. I was instantly transported back to freshman year of college when a friend handed it to me - and everything about literature changed for a young history major who was destined to switch to English. The book that promises to answer "the mystery of redheads" is a captivating intro to one of America's most innovative and significant writers. And I love when students discover Robbins and all his madcap irreverence.

My student's father recommended the book to him. And that is pretty cool as well, for Robbins is certainly edgy and downright inappropriate at times. Not that a senior in high school shouldn't be able to handle it - but many probably aren't ready. Despite that, Robbins is worth the time for avid readers because of all the ways he challenges convention. I love explaining to students the unique approach Robbins takes to composition. It truly captures the idea of writing as "craft." As teachers of writing, consider sharing some of the magic of Robbins with writers:

Tracy Robbins for Salon.com

Timothy Egan for the New York Times - on "perfect sentences in an imperfect world."

Alan Rinzler of The Book Deal - with Robbins' advice to writers.

Is Classic Literature Fun?

When I used to teach freshman honors English students would shared their thoughts and insight on the summer reading selection A Separate Peace by John Knowles.  "It was a good book," some would concede, "but it wasn't really a fun read."

Exactly.

As teacher Carol Jago has so eloquently put it, there is a fundamental difference "between reading for pleasure and the study of literature."  Far from giving the kids something fun to read, high school English classes are designed to educate, broaden horizons, and assist students in how to appreciate literature.  To appreciate literature a reader comes to understand and acknowledge the quality and significance of the writing - that doesn't mean they have to like it.  There are many classic works of art - from music to paintings to poems to novels to plays - that I don't prefer.  I might even say I don't like them, as they are not my taste.  However, I won't say that Wutthering Heights is a bad book or that Sonnet 145 is a miserable poem or The Doll House is a worthless piece of drama.  They are quality literature - for all the reasons that we English teachers should fully understand - and we hope that students can come to understand them and acknowledge their place as a record of the human experience.

But they might not like them.

A Separate Peace is the quintessential American coming-of-age novel about two young men in a time of war.  Gene and Finny exemplify the struggles of young people with issues of identity, innocence, and manhood, and ultimately come to understand that "wars are caused by some ignorance in the human heart."  The friendship between the two - especially with the doppleganger motif working - offers two opposing views of the nature of man.  And, as I would begin to work my way through the story with my classes each August, they would slowly, but truly, begin to appreciate the work and its significance.  It really becomes two stories for them - there is the book they read on their own about two boys at school. That is the young adult side to the novel. And, then, there is the allegorical work of literature about the fall of man and the passage into adulthood.  Ultimately, if I've done my job well, students will appreciate the work when we're finished.  But that doesn't mean they'll like it.  Though many will.  By senior year, a considerable number of students cite it as a favorite book from high school.

So, there is value.

"Teaching" Kids What They Like ... or What They Need?

"Why can't we read books we like?"

This all-too-common question in the English classroom has been asked of me numerous times by high school students, most recently a freshmen who eyed with suspicion the text Lord of the Flies. Though she wasn't my student - her class followed mine - we often talked with several of her friends before class, and I could tell she was bright and motivated but still viewed the world as a child.  In talking about what she "liked," we veered into discussion of John Green's The Fault in Our Stars - an amazing young adult novel that has moved onto some very credible lists as one of best books of the year.  The student "loved the novel" and thought it would be great to discuss in class.  I asked her a few questions regarding her reading.  "Was the book tough to read?"  Of course not.  "Did you struggle with the sentences or the vocabulary?"  Are you crazy.  "Did it challenge you in any way?"  Well, it was really sad ... but I loved it.  And that is the issue.

So, what makes it worthy of study?  Far too often these days students and parents and, surprisingly, English teachers are confusing the pleasure reading with the study of literature.  They are not the same thing.  They do not belong in the same venue.  The pleasure of reading is not in any standard of education.  It is not the public's mandate.  It is not our job.  Appreciation, on the other hand, is.

In the past couple years, that issue has risen in our English department as some teachers questioned the school's policy of summer reading.  For many years, honors English students have been asked to read books like John Knowles' A Separate Peace and Alan Patton's Cry, the Beloved Country during the summer.  And teachers have struggled with students reading a book "they hate."  Thus, they have argued for offering a book that students can just enjoy, and books like John Green's The Fault in Our Stars have been offered as alternatives in the past.  For the record, John Green is a fantastic author, I have read all his books, and I love his work.  However, in spite of his brilliance and his use of the word metaphor and allusion, Green's work is not a work of classic literature.  It is a great book, and I would recommend it to all my students - in fact, I do.  However, to argue that English teachers should stop reading John Knowles or Alan Paton because "it's hard" or students "don't like it," and instead shift to the "study" of a book that for all its brilliance is written at about a sixth-grade level is ... discouraging.

In response, I look to Carol Jago and her book With Rigor For All: Teaching Classics to Contemporary Students.  Jago actually visited my high school years ago after our principle purchased copies of her book for the English department.  Carol Jago worries that "in our determination to provide students with literature that they can relate to we sometimes end up teaching works that students actually don't need much help with at the expense of teaching classics they most certainly need assistance negotiating."  I share her concerns, yet I struggle to convince teachers who simply want children to love literature.  While a noble goal, I'd argue that is the very job of the teacher - helping students appreciate William Golding the same way they love John Green.  At the very least, it's worth noting Carol Jago's point that "If a student can read a book on their own [and fully "get it"], it probably isn't the best choice for classroom study.  Classroom texts should pose an intellectual challenge to young readers."  Ultimately, I see a divergence in the goal of English teachers and the English classroom.  And I was, interestingly, steered toward Carol Jago's work by a teacher who was trying to convince me I was wrong for opposing the inclusion on John Green in the curriculum.

To that end, I can only cite Jago who asserts, "While I believe young adult fiction has a place in the recreational life of teenagers, I don't think these titles are the best choice when your goal is the study of literature."

Why One Teacher Opposes the PARCC Exam

Mary Ellen Redmond is a veteran teacher in Massachusetts, home of the most highly rated schools in the nation. Schools in the state will begin to administer the PARCC test this spring, even as the number of states supporting PARCC has dwindled from 26 several years ago to only 10 now. And Ms. Redmond would certainly support a withdrawal of her state, as she "cannot support the PARCC exam" and encourages others to voice their concern. To understand her reticence, she explains the serious concerns and criticisms she has of this new test:

In the literary analysis section of the sixth-grade sample test online, students have to read two excerpts: one from “Boy’s Life” by Robert McCammon, and “Emancipation: A Life Fable.” The final task is an essay: “Write an essay that identifi es a similar theme in eachtext and compares and contrasts the approaches each text uses to develop this theme. Be sure to support your response with evidence from both texts.” Say what? This is a multilevel task requiring very high levels of synthesizing and analyzing.

Sixth-graders are just beginning to extract theme from a text and put it into a statement. To compare and contrast two texts is a cumbersome task that takes time to plan and organize. The wording is not kid-friendly: “to contrast and compare the approaches,” I can hear the questions in my students’ minds: What’s an approach? How do I compare an approach? This question doesn’t even allow the struggling ELA student to enter the testing arena.

Furthermore, the thirdsection of the test is the narrative section. In the sample test, students read an excerpt from a story. In this case, it is “Magic Elizabeth,” by Norma Kassirer. Here is the task: “In the passage from ‘Magic Elizabeth,’ the author creates a vivid setting and two distinct characters, Mrs. Chipley and Sally. Write an original story about what happens when Sally arrives at Aunt Sarah’s house. In your story, be sure to use what you have learned about the setting and the characters as you tell what happens next.”

Students need to glean details from setting and character development and then continue them in an original story. This task requires a broad subset of skills. It would take four to six weeks to teach,review and practice these skills for students to approach this task with confidence. But why is this task on this test? Does this prepare students for college or a career? No: It is a specialized subset of skills for a writer.

I recall criticism about the MCAS long composition. PARCC supporters said that no boss was going to ask her employee to write a personal essay about their summer vacation. Well, no boss is going to require this narrative task, either. The narrative writing task has no place on a high-stakes test. Should I teach short story writing in my classroom? Absolutely. But don’t set my students up for failure using this as a part of statewide assessment.

These are legitimate and serious concerns. And, all concerned parties, from parents to educators to the legislators making the rules, should go online and scrutinize these exams. People should take practice tests themselves, and they should sit with their children as they try to navigate the assessment. It may - and should - change some minds.

English Teachers Should Oppose On-line Testing

The Common Core and PARCC/SmarterBalanced testing have raised the ire of many parents and educators during the past year or so. However, most of the criticism of the new "standards" and the associated tests and homework has been in the subject area of math. Math teachers disagree on the value of the standards, but there is little doubt that kids and parents are frustrated by the "new way of doing math." There has been less coverage and criticism of the language arts standards - though many people are troubled by the inanity of the CCSS committee that decided to name them English Language Arts standards, which leads to the acronym ELA - an already established term for non-native speakers.

However, with the coming of new standardized tests like PARCC and SB, which will be administered online, English teachers have a significant reason to oppose CCSS. Despite the passivity of younger language arts teachers who have grown up more accustomed to online reading, "E-Reading Threatens Learning in the Humanities." True English teachers know that interacting with the text is a primary focus of language analysis, and that includes annotating, skimming, close reading, etc. These skills and techniques are associated with having a physical text in front of the reader. While e-readers are becoming more adapted to note-taking - and people are more adept at using them - there is still no substitute for physical texts. In fact, research shows that e-readers negatively impact comprehension. How, in good conscience, can any English teacher support that system?

A few months ago, I had the opportunity to take sample online questions for PARCC, and the format of the test convinced me of the problematic and harmful nature of the testing format. The idea of scrolling up and down between two screens - one with the passage and the other with the questions - absolutely unnerved me. And nothing in my knowledge of how people read and learn indicated that the online format is a positive development for education. It may be more efficient for state test writers and coordinators. And it may be a great revenue source for companies like Microsoft and Pearson. But this is not good pedagogy and not good instructional practice.

Thus, when my nine-year-old daughter came home from school, having learned that she would have to "write her state test essays on the computer," she announced, "I'm not doing it."

And I support her in that decision.

Stephen King's "On Writing" is a Useful Classroom Guide

If you're an English teacher, and you haven't read Stephen King's memoir On Writing, you might just be missing out, or, like me, you might have had an original elitist refusal to taking advice from the writer of thrillers and supermarket paperbacks. That's probably a position you should reconsider. Jess Lahey, an English educator and education writer for The Atlantic, has a great piece in Business Insider where she interviews King about the value of his book and his thoughts on teaching English. Both King and Lahey have a lot of great  insights about English education.

Lahey: When people ask me to name my favorite books, I have to ask them to narrow their request: to read or to teach? You provide a fantastic list of books to read at the end of "On Writing," but what were your favorite books to teach, and why?

King: When it comes to literature, the best luck I ever had with high school students was teaching James Dickey’s long poem “Falling.” It’s about a stewardess who’s sucked out of a plane. They see at once that it’s an extended metaphor for life itself, from the cradle to the grave, and they like the rich language. I had good success with The Lord of the Flies and short stories like“Big Blonde” and “The Lottery.” (They argued the shit out of that one—I’m smiling just thinking about it.) No one puts a grammar book on their list of riveting reads, but "The Elements of Style" is still a good handbook. The kids accept it.

Lahey: You write, “One either absorbs the grammatical principles of one’s native language in conversation and in reading or one does not.” If this is true, why teach grammar in school at all? Why bother to name the parts?

King: When we name the parts, we take away the mystery and turn writing into a problem that can be solved. I used to tell them that if you could put together a model car or assemble a piece of furniture from directions, you could write a sentence. Reading is the key, though. A kid who grows up hearing “It don’t matter to me” can only learndoesn’t if he/she reads it over and over again.

Lahey: While I love teaching grammar, I am conflicted on the utility of sentence diagramming. Did you teach diagramming, and if so, why?

King: I did teach it, always beginning by saying, “This is for fun, like solving a crossword puzzle or a Rubik’s Cube.” I told them to approach it as a game. I gave them sentences to diagram as homework but promised I would not test on it, and I never did. Do you really teach diagramming? Good for you! I didn’t think anyone did anymore.

Lahey: In the introduction to Strunk and White’s "The Elements of Style," E.B. White recounts William Strunk’s instruction to “omit needless words.” While your books are voluminous, your writing remains concise. How do you decide which words are unnecessary and which words are required for the telling?

King: It’s what you hear in your head, but it’s never right the first time. So you have to rewrite it and revise it. My rule of thumb is that a short story of 3,000 words should be rewritten down to 2,500. It’s not always true, but mostly it is. You need to take out the stuff that’s just sitting there and doing nothing. No slackers allowed! All meat, no filler!

Read more: http://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2014/09/how-stephen-king-teaches-writing/379870/?single_page=true#ixzz3LGWVh525

Twist - A Great Breckenridge Restaurant

While we're in the heart of winter, yesterday felt so summer-y in the shadows of the Rockies, that it reminded me the summer season is coming soon to the High Country, and all the hikers and bikers and anglers will be heading to the mountains to enjoy some fresh air and escape the oppressive heat that will soon descend on the Front Range. And as we head into the mud season when many of the resort town restaurants close down for a break, the summer vacationers will be looking for some tasty places to relax and dine. In the perfect mountain town of Breckenridge, the restaurant Twist is a prime choice for dinner or happy hour. The restaurant which sub-bills itself as a "Twist on classic comfort food" is classic resort restaurant in a beautifully renovated mountain Victorian home which truly is "Comfort food re{de}fined."



On a trip to our favorite place in the Rockies last fall, we took in a delicious happy hour at Twist, which we've been meaning to try for a while, and were forced to make that decision after our planned dining at our favorite Breck establishment Modis, was closed at the time for the mud season. It was a fortuitous event, as we grabbed a table in pleasantly shaded patio area as the sun began to set. A nice and refreshing pinot noir on the Happy Hour menu for only $5 accented the slight chill in the evening air. And it led in to some great "twists" such as the homemade chips and onion dip made with caramelized onions. This isn't your grocery story fare, to be sure. So rich and creamy, the chips and dip could be a meal.

We also dined on sweet potato tater tots with a mustard aioli with fresh cheese curds. They were like candy and quite addictive. But we had to leave room for the pork shoulder tacos and the spinach-artichoke mac-n-cheese. The tacos were so rich yet fun, we had to order a second round. Even the kids could not get enough. We might have stayed longer and stretched Happy Hour into dinner and more drinks, but we had to get up and on to what came next: a walk around town and a stop at Clint's Bakery - the best bakery in the High Country, and probably in all of Colorado.

Le Mot Juste - Diction and the Three-Word Poem

The difference between the almost right word and the right word is the difference between the lightening bug and the lightening - Mark Twain

Ol' Sam Clemens' "words" of wisdom regarding diction are a great bit of insight to share with students when teaching them to edit and think carefully about word choice.  Far too often, students will stick with the obvious word - the first word to pop into their head - rather than expanding their vocabulary.  Either that, or they will immediately head to the dictionary and resort to the grand mistake of putting five dollar words in two dollar sentences.  As a colleague once told me, the thesaurus is where you go to meet old friends, not pick up new ones.  To that end, I am committed to increasing my students' command of language through better word choice.  And, a great exercise regarding this came to me from another colleague years ago:

The three-word poem.

Each year I begin second semester of my AP Lang & Comp class by introducing the French phrase le mot juste - the right word.  I share with them Mark Twain's quote and we discuss different examples they can generate regarding effective word choice.  And then I assign them an exercise in diction - the three word poem.  The requirements for the three-word poem are that they must have at least three drafts, and their final draft must include a short paragraph explanation of their editing decisions.  We actually take a couple days for this - with other activities intertwined - as I require them to get some peer advice/feedback.  I also share with them one of the best examples I've encountered:

Algebra
Sucks
Bad

Years ago a student presented this poem, and gave an excellent analysis and explanation.  He began the poem by writing "I Hate Algebra."  He then chose to eliminate the word "I," as it detracts from the poems emphasis which is algebra.  And putting himself as the first word de-emphasized his subject.  Thus, his next draft was "Algebra Really Sucks."  It was certainly an improvement, as the word "sucks" clearly expresses his feelings.  And, I've found that when the word is used judiciously, it has great effect.  However, the student realized the word "really" is a truly weak and almost meaningless modifier, and it weakens the poem.  Thus, he arrived at "Algebra Sucks Bad."  The use of the adjective  - and the artistic license of mis-using the adjective - enhances the effect of the poem.  It truly speaks to the angst the speaker has regarding algebra.  (No offense to math teachers :-) ).

This little exercise is a great way to start the year and kick off a discussion of word choice.  I appreciate the effort the kids put into this, and it really establishes a student's effort, creativity, and willingness to play with language.  Some kids really run with it - others just get by.  But it makes for a nice intro to "diction."  And, of course, I require the students to "perform" their poem.  Each student goes to the front of the classroom and reads his poem.  Then, after a pause for effect, the students goes through his thought process.  It's a great intro activity to the idea of ...

Le mot juste.

Breckenridge vs. Estes Park?

A while ago a friend from the Midwest asked for advice on where to go as she plans a summer vacation to the Rocky Mountain State.  She and the family are driving out, hoping to do some camping and hiking, but they would also like to do a couple days of nice resort-style living.  Some friends told her Estes Park "all the way," while others threw out a few resort town names, especially those in the central mountain corridor.  It's a tough call, but really it's all about what you're looking for.

If they're looking to camp and hike, Estes Park is the classic national park camping experience.  Located at the entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park, Estes Park has countless campgrounds, hikes, and outdoor activities from fishing to rafting.  Many people favor it for the YMCA of the Rockies locations, and its definitely the place in Colorado that tourists are most likely to see wildlife. Moose, elk, deer, fox, and even wolves are prominent, even in the actual town of Estes Park.  In fact, that's one of the treats - a literal treat right out of the opening scenes of the 90s show Northern Exposure.  The town is touristy in a common man sort of way.  Of course, the downside is it being isolated from the rest of the Colorado resorts, and it's potentially a little less ... upscale than the resort areas.  Some people call it rustic; others would say a little less refined.

The other main options are the I-70 corridor - mainly Summit County - with the run of ski resort areas that transition to summer activities.  In that regard, Breckenridge is the perfect mountain town to me. Of course, it is a little more ... refined, with better restaurants, shopping, and amenities.  The proximity to other resorts is also key, as you can hit Keystone, Breckenridge, Vail, Frisco, Lake Dillon, the Continental Divide, and other key spots all within driving distance.  Obviously, the resorts are not the spot for camping.  But the fishing, rafting, hiking, biking, and dining are pretty great.  I'm also a fan of Crested Butte to the south, especially in the summer.  With the Fat Tire Mountain Bike Festival followed by the Wildflower Festival followed by a great 4th of July, CB is a great place. And, of course, you're closer to Aspen as well as the southwest corner areas such as Durango and Telluride, which are a whole other story.

It's a tough call.  But I'd take the area around Breckenridge for the true Colorado experience.

Coehlo's The Alchemist & The Alchemist Project

Paulo Coehlo's The Alchemist is the perfect "self-help" book for high school students because it comes in the form of a readable parable, and the narrative helps to disguise the preachy nature of many books designed to help teens find themselves and find their way in the world.  However, it's not enough to simply read and discuss the book - teachers need to craft activities and tasks around the ideas of the book which engage the students in their own journey and quest for their personal legend.  Thus, in continuing my explanation of my "Alchemist Project," I always show a truly engaging TED talk, featuring Mike Rowe of the Discovery Channel's "Dirty Jobs."

Rowe has some fascinating bits of advice and insight for students.  Most importantly, he ponders the idea that "following your passion" might be the worst advice he ever got.  That fits well with my previous story of Sarah Marshall - the girl from The Ambitious Generation who was adept at getting into college, but not so adept at figuring out why she was going in the first place.  I advise my students that in Rowe's view "Some people should follow their passion, some should follow their skills, and some should just follow the market."  This video always has a significant impact on students.  And I ask them to journal and comment on Rowe's ideas in relation to their own search.

Other ideas come from David Brooks and his op-ed on institutional thinking called "What Life Asks of Us."  I ask students to honestly answer some tough questions meant to elicit some serious self-examination, for the goal of this book and this project is for students to figure out, not what they want to do, but who they really are.  I ask them to journal again after reading another Robert Fulghum essay about a girl who was "sitting on her ticket."  It always has a way of motivating them to think critically.  And, perhaps the most interesting and engaging of the tasks is for students to complete an extensive analysis of their "Imaginary Lives."  It gives them a chance to dream and wonder, and ultimately try to see themselves in a future.

I always conclude our unit by showing them a short clip of Randy Pausch, the man known for his Last Lecture.  The book and entire video are great - but if you want to limit the time, he gave a great short version of his speech on Oprah.  It is definitely worth the discussion and coincides well with the story of The Alchemist.  While Coehlo's book says "The universe conspires to help you achieve your personal legend," Randy Pausch posits "If you are living correctly, your dreams will come to you."

Ultimately, The Alchemist is a meaningful book for high school juniors or seniors.  I think any year before that is too young and too early.  Students sometimes dismiss the book as a little cheesy - and it probably is.  But even the most hardened student finds something useful in our Alchemist Project.