I began the test prep shuffle this week. I’m teaching math topics we haven’t covered that I suspect might be on the tests. Testing is 2 weeks off, but I don’t do any bubble-marking practice until a couple of days ahead of the real deal. I also don’t much care if the kids do a good job on the tests. I’ve seen my little thoroughbreds stumble on gentle turf, so I question my ability to prepare them to be competent bubblers. What I do think about is helping them to avoid a deer in the headlights reaction to questions about things they never learned about.

In the midst of these worldly concerns, I was stopped today by a single sentence from a ten-year old. Things that can’t be captured in test data, can’t be communicated on a report card, and can’t be measured are true indicators of personal growth and transformation. But that stuff is of no consequence to anyone but me and the kids. I’ll report it here to anyone who might be interested because there’s no other relevant forum.

I’ve been working with a self-styled readers workshop format for several months. The kids choose books and read them. It’s revolutionary in its simplicity. They write in response journals, and I write back. Along with my comment or question I put a number between 1 and 5 near the entry to let them know how I thought they did with the reading response. We have a rubric, but I fly by line of sight most of the time. Making connections has been a big topic for a while now. I’ve taught them about schema and the importance of background knowledge for comprehension. They have fun making connections between texts.

Today I shifted gears a little, and introduced them to a new novel by Louis Sachar, There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom, which we’ll read as a class. I plan to teach them how to discuss a book. They had a Sticky assignment to leave three yellow notes in the assigned section they’d like for us to discuss. The period ended at the end of the day, and there was the usual day’s-end-chaos with coats, clutter, and conversation. Loud and in motion.

Near where I was standing, and I’m so glad I was there to hear this, one of the girls called, “Hey Skitchy, I made a connection with the story you wrote. Your story was just like in the book!”

That’s all. Just that much, but what a load of meaning it carried. The comment validated my instructional efforts. It revealed a thoughtful reading of the book and the work that a classmate had written, and it wouldn’t have happened if we weren’t putting our work online in our community writing project. My students see themselves as writers and readers. They know who they are, and they are sharing the joy of belonging to a learning community. The best part is that even if everyone didn’t make that connection independently, they all understand what that statement meant. There are no test bubbles for that.

You cannot teach a man anything; you can only help him find it within himself.
Galileo Galilei