Standardized testing or torture? Tis the season...

Since we are in the thick of testing season I thought sharing an excerpt from Caught in the Middle - chapter entitled Standardized Torture (testing mania)- was appropriate. In this excerpt I may just make a little fun of test security - just a tad mind you...

Test security is taken very seriously. Unfortunately, there was a bit  of a cheating scandal (understatement) in a school district located in the capital of a southern state which I shall not name (Hint: state begins with the letter “G”) and as a result of this debacle, the ante has been upped in regards to preventing any wrongdoing (i.e. cheating) in regards to THE TEST. 

A school district's dream...

If districts could afford armored cars to deliver THE TEST they would be lining up at the dealership to purchase them. As it is now, the documents come to the school in sealed bins and must be signed for in blood by THE TEST coordinator before they release them. Test booklets and answer documents are considered top secret. The concern is someone (I’m not sure who) will get a hold of THE TEST and peek at a test question. I guess the fear is that this lapse in security may result in a nuclear war or possibly Armageddon. Therefore, each day of testing, teachers are required to sign a paper saying they will give up their first born child or at least an appendage if anything happens to the materials. Really. Then once the testing materials are in the teacher’s hands they must take them everywhere with them – yes even to the bathroom- OR keep them under two locks. Sounds ludicrous, but it’s true.

As the number two pencils begin to mark the answer choices and the administration of THE TEST is underway, you would think things would calm down. Nope. Au contraire mon frere. Things are just starting to get interesting, especially in middle school.

Students sometimes have issues (shocker). Take for instance an incident where a student gets a nosebleed in the middle of taking one of the subtests. Walkies-talkies will start going crazy and principals shift into high gear.

Head Principal: Did any blood get on the answer document?

Testing Coordinator: No, the teacher pushed the student out of the way, pulled the document and secured it immediately. Crisis averted. Student continues to test with tissue up nose and tissue box on desk. Only slight bruise on arm from push. Noted on testing log.

Head Principal: Roger that.

Ok I admit – it’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I won’t admit it’s THAT far off.

The day of the Math test means kids will be puking all over the
school. I have held more than one students’ head while they vomit

in a trash can in the hallway. The math anxiety kicks into overdrive and all teachers are on the lookout for pea green faces so they can move the documents out of the way before the student blows his or her cookies. The mantra - SAVE THE TEST DOCUMENTS is the cry on math testing day. Because if the student vomits on the answer document, that answer document has to be placed in a plastic bag and sent to the state. I swear – this is the truth. Wouldn’t you love that job? Being the person at the state office opening up all the plastic bags with puke on bubble sheets? Hazardous work to be sure. Serves them right.

Heaven forbid a few students skip a question by mistake and have to erase all their answers and start over. This will be looked at as an anomaly and the teacher will be scrutinized in regards to possibly changing answers to better the results (this actually happened in that southern state capital that I shall not name – think Coca Cola).

Middle school students can be very tricky about cheating, like passing a jacket back and forth with the answers in a sleeve (true story). So teachers are expected to be vigilant and monitor on their feet throughout the test. That’s right – there is no sitting down and grading papers, reading email or posting on Facebook during the endless hours it takes the students to complete THE TEST. I think the district should offer personal trainers prior to THE TEST so teachers can get into shape for this marathon of strolling in between desks. We wouldn’t want any of them keeling over from exhaustion and possibly falling onto an answer document and damaging it. And if the students didn’t really like the teacher, he or she might be laying there unconscious for an undetermined length of time. Hey. It’s middle school.

Bless those testing coordinators! Hang in there - it's almost over.

Who would have thought...?

that my little boy, who was always the tiniest kid in school and the brunt of relentless teasing, would not only grow up to be a National Guardsman, but go on to become a paratrooper and an Army Ranger. Add to that a police officer and a member of the SWAT Team. Unbelievable. Every mother's anxiety nightmare - times two.

 It seems like only yesterday he was playing army in the woods with his friends with his baby sister tagging along. They would all be in cammo and completing imaginary missions and taking care of "the enemy". Anthony was always in charge and his friends followed his lead. Annamarie, his little sister, even had her own little cammo shirt. It's one of the few times he allowed her to play with him. Mostly because he could boss her around and she would willingly follow his "orders". I should have known then that his career path would be service to his country and community. But he was still young and I figured that his interest in wearing a uniform would wane when he became old enough to understand the dangers involved. After all, this was a child that was afraid of the dark. Surely he would lose his desire to be a soldier and/or police officer.

In Iraq

But then when he was a sophomore in high school, September 11, 2001 reared its ugly head. This tragedy had a profound effect on him. From that day forward, he had a resolve to serve his country that was unshakable. Since becoming a soldier, he has been deployed twice and as his mom I hope never again, but of course he would be ready and willing to go whether I like it or not. I seriously doubt those bullies at school would mess with our boy now. Hah!

Anthony is not only a son, a soldier, and a police officer, but also a husband and a father. His dad, sister, and I are very proud of all he has accomplished and the man he has become.

Saying goodbye to sons Kyan and Cole before deployment to Kosovo

America - you've got a good guy watching over you who happens to be turning 29 this week and who, by the way, is no longer afraid of the boogeyman and definitely not afraid of the bad guys.

Happy Birthday Anthony! You are loved.

His sister definitely doesn't follow his "orders" now!

Parking in LA? Mission Impossible

Are we supposed to read this?

Like most big cities, parking in LA is a dilemma. In LA, most cars sport a variety of dents, have doors that have been swiped, bumpers that house a crack or two, or side mirrors that are hanging like dead leaves on a tree. My theory is it's all from the incredibly difficult task of  #1 finding a place to park and #2 trying to fit your car in a spot whose size is more appropriate for a Shriner's clown car as opposed to a four door sedan.

How the hell do they ever get out of there?

Typical dent - this guy got creative and covered it in clear plastic wrap.

Another mirror bit the dust.

But there's more than just finding the opening and squeezing into it.

Once you find the treasured geographical location in which to park, the next step is trying to understand the frickin' signs - and there's never just one. They put as many on that skinny pole that it takes to thoroughly confuse you.

Are you kidding me?

I'm pretty sure I even saw one that said:

No parking except every other Sunday or when there is a full moon, unless you have a chihuahua and in that case you can never park here.

After you take the time to read all the signs and have absolutely no idea if you are legal or not you usually just say "screw it" and do your best not to be hit or hit anything on the way in. Even with all the work you put in to try and understand the signs you will probably end up with one of these...

Obviously parking tickets are a big business here. Most residents are resigned to the fact that half of their paycheck goes to the City of Los Angeles in the form of parking fines. Wonder where the city spends all that revenue? My guess is it they use it to purchase more signs because four on a pole is just not enough.

Postcards from LA. What the....?

Every trip to LA is an experience. It's like it's own little planet out here - unique, freaky and beautiful in it's own way (except for the traffic, which is abominable). I think it's important to have a "go with the flow" kind of attitude and try to appreciate the city for what it is - an eclectic collection of lifestyles, ethnicities and neurosis. But sometimes you just run across things that even the most La-Di-Da attitude just finds a little too weird and hysterically funny.

I have no idea...

What every home needs.

So random

SUPER CREEPY!

I just don't even know what to say about this...

Maybe he's waiting for the rest of his bathing suit to drop from the sky.

Ending my postcard with Having a great time. Wish you were here. Although not really, because my daughter's apartment would be a bit crowded. Happy Easter all!