This year, I was determined to do it right, by packing lunches the night before, and addressing the envelopes the night before, and making everyone get showers the night before.
One big difference this year was that I was called upon to actually help administer the tests. This meant I had to show up and I had to show up on time, and possibly even awake.
Morning came early, but getting out the door was a breeze, if you don't count the several phone calls I fielded as I brushed my teeth and put on my shoes.
On the way to testing we got behind a pick-up truck at a red light. The light turned green, and the truck did not move. I waited. And waited. As my hand hovered over the horn, he saw the green light and went through the intersection. This guy was slow. 35 in a 50 slow.
As soon as he realized I was in a hurry and would like to go somewhat close to the speed limit, he did what all men do. He pulled over at the next available spot, and let me by, so I could drive my speed, and he could continue to drive his speed.
Vrrrrrttt!!
Not.
You know what he did. He drove even slower, to 'teach me a lesson'.
I learned the lesson, alright: All men are assholes when you get them behind the wheel.
I bet even Mister Rogers pulled that trick a time or two in his day.
I made it to testing by the skin of my teeth, and was put in a room with 13 middle-school-aged kids.
During the actual test, I got bored, and began asking myself questions such as, If ten of the kids were boys, and two of the kids were left-handed, how many wear glasses?
One of my duties was to walk around and make sure that the kids did not get off-track. Sometimes a kid will answer number 12 by filling in bubble 13. When that happens, every answer after that is 'wrong'. I came around to one child that appeared to be reading question #9. When I looked at the bubble sheet, it was blank. I watched as the child circled in the test booklet their chosen answer for that question. I stopped the child and explained that the bubbles must be filled in. The child seemed to understand. When I came around again, the child was still circling the answers in the test booklet, as well as meticulously filling in the bubbles.
I explained that the answers only needed to be filled in on the bubble sheet, but when I came around again, the child was diligently circling the answers in the booklet. I decided to drop it. I figured if the only way for that child to complete the test stress-free was to do both, well, what was I going to do?
Another child filled in bubbles all over the place, along with adding bubbles that did not exist. The best I can describe the bubble sheet is that the child was designing a Rorschach test, one #2 pencil blob at a time.
We always remind the children to bring a book with them, in case they finish ahead of time. One particularly bright child finished well ahead of schedule, and did not seem to have a book. I'd noticed a stack of books in the corner of the room, so I thought I'd help out by grabbing one of those for the child to borrow. When I browsed the titles, though, they all read "Is AA Right for Me?", "How to Talk to Your Friend About AA" and "The Big Book, 4th Edition".*
Not exactly what most ten year olds need to read.
Scratch paper. Boys do not use the scratch paper to do math. They do the math in their heads and guess.
Working out math problems on scratch paper would leave less space for drawing guitars, guns, dragons, dinosaurs, and aliens.
Scratch paper. Girls do not use scratch paper to do math. They come up with elaborate systems for counting on their fingers and toes, complete with lots of head bobbing, and guess.
Working out math problems on scratch paper would leave less space for drawing anime characters, and making cootie catchers.
After lunch, one of the children swung around and cracked their knee into the metal bar under the table, and we had a "testing injury" on our hands. To their credit, the injured child did not disturb the other children by shouting, crying, or cursing loudly.
I proclaim Testing Day 2010 a success.
* AA does not have a very favorable success rate. I recommend Potatoes Not Prozac instead.
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