A word about the New York State Tests...no, it's not THAT word

Let's just get it over with and address the elephant in the room. My students were tired. Three 70 minute tests from last week followed by two 60 minute tests this week and a 90 minute test looming in front of them will do that to a kid. I had coached, encouraged and cajoled but their little shoulders were slumped, their faces were slack-jawed and their eyes had lost their sparkle. To quote the best book in the world, Weiner Wolf:

Weiner Dog seldom wagged his tail anymore.

His toy had lost its squeak.

The constant flow of bribes had lost their appeal. "Thanks," they said, not even looking up as I passed out Twizzlers. They barely looked at their peppermint coin candies. No squeals of delight accompanied the arrival of a Hershey kiss. We'd run down a darkened hallway. We'd visited the playground. Nothing. My normally squeaky students were silent. Time to pull out the big guns.

Brad Mosiman, borrowing from some mountaintop guru somewhere, habitually encourages me with this little elephant analogy whenever I get overwhelmed (which is often). "How do you eat an elephant," he'll ask to which I want to be snarky and reply "With ketchup" or "With a knife and fork" but the wise answer is "One bite at a time." Well, if my little honeys were going to be force-fed an elephant all at once, I might as well jump on board.

Prior to administering this final 90 minute exam, I told them again how proud I was of how hard they had been working. "This test shows New York State that both you and I are doing our jobs to the very best of our abilities," I explained, "and at the end of testing today, I have a little treat for you." I showed them a picture of the elephant snack we'd be making and was rewarded with an eruption of cheers which might have been somewhat baffling to the rest of the school. Now, with something to look forward to, my square-shouldered scholars set their minds to the task at hand.

I'm just a simple little teacher...a small cog in the New York State educational system. But a famously disciplined educational reformer taught me that a little sugar helps the medicine go down. Looking around, I see that the majority of tests out there result in something bright and wonderful:  a driver's license, entry to the college of your dreams, professional certification. When my 9-year-olds take the NYS tests, all they have to look forward to is when the tests will over. Maybe I'll send New York State my directions for elephant biscuits as a culminating activity.