I'm going to tell you a very sad story. I expect pity. Loads of it.
Yesterday I sat staring aimlessly out the window as the kids played around me. "Why don't I have a hobby?", I asked myself. "If I knitted, or painted, or sewed, or liked to cook I could be doing those things right now. But I don't like those things. In fact, I hate them all. I could go for a walk but it's dark. I feel compelled to write about this. That would keep me occupied" Never in those moments did I realize that writing is my hobby.
When I was a kid I used to write all the time. For fun I would write research papers about sharks. My parents were proud of me. While my husband was skipping school and getting drunk with his friends (okay, he was in college during my childhood), I was writing words down on paper for fun. My teachers told me I was a good writer. My childhood identity was the scrawny girl that kept to herself and wrote a lot. I loved English class and persuasive writing. When I grew up I was going to be a photojournalist and travel around the world dodging bullets in the name of the free press. Oh, and Lloyd Bentsen was going to be vice president.
Then I moved to Texas. You see, Texas ruins everything. Texas is where dreams go to die. Back before No Child Left Behind was destroying the will to live for students everywhere, Texas was doing it first. I was a junior in high school at the time and the previous year my peers had taken the Texas standardized test that all students at the end of their sophomore year have to take. In order to be a junior, one had to take this test. So I took the test. I did well on math and reading. I almost didn't pass the writing segment. I was crushed. At that point I stopped writing. I stopped paying attention in English class. My grammar sucks today because I refused to learn anything in high school English. I can't tell the difference between my left toe and a past participle, and I, tend to, you know, overuse commas.
As a semi-grown-up I now realize why I failed that stupid, ASININE standardized test. I hadn't been taught to write to the test. I almost failed because I had never been instructed in the three paragraph essay model, which might be the most boring form of writing on the planet. You see, my previous teachers saw my love for writing and encouraged it. They didn't set up a frame work. They let me run. They were awesome.
It's taken me years to feel comfortable with exploring my love for writing again. Writing anything feels presumptuous. Sharing my writing with anyone is almost torture. Thank you standardized testing. I blame you for everything.
Now my kids are being subjected to this garbage. Here they call it "Sunshine State Standards". I suppose that's supposed to make it sound happy and fun. When my kid came home from school a few weeks ago and said the reading guidelines made him feel dumb, I got angry. Really angry. Like smoke coming out of my ears angry. I called the school and used the word "asinine", which is my favorite word to use. This made me realize something, I have an advantage that my parents didn't have. Standardized testing and accountability were new concepts when I took that eternally dream-crushing exam. My parents didn't have any idea what that test was and what it was used for. Now "standardized testing" is a household phrase and through mockery and heavy use of the word asinine, I think my kids will take them with an eye roll and a "oh my gosh this is the stupidest thing ever". They won't use it to judge themselves. Dreams have a shot at growing.
Yesterday I sat staring aimlessly out the window as the kids played around me. "Why don't I have a hobby?", I asked myself. "If I knitted, or painted, or sewed, or liked to cook I could be doing those things right now. But I don't like those things. In fact, I hate them all. I could go for a walk but it's dark. I feel compelled to write about this. That would keep me occupied" Never in those moments did I realize that writing is my hobby.
When I was a kid I used to write all the time. For fun I would write research papers about sharks. My parents were proud of me. While my husband was skipping school and getting drunk with his friends (okay, he was in college during my childhood), I was writing words down on paper for fun. My teachers told me I was a good writer. My childhood identity was the scrawny girl that kept to herself and wrote a lot. I loved English class and persuasive writing. When I grew up I was going to be a photojournalist and travel around the world dodging bullets in the name of the free press. Oh, and Lloyd Bentsen was going to be vice president.
Then I moved to Texas. You see, Texas ruins everything. Texas is where dreams go to die. Back before No Child Left Behind was destroying the will to live for students everywhere, Texas was doing it first. I was a junior in high school at the time and the previous year my peers had taken the Texas standardized test that all students at the end of their sophomore year have to take. In order to be a junior, one had to take this test. So I took the test. I did well on math and reading. I almost didn't pass the writing segment. I was crushed. At that point I stopped writing. I stopped paying attention in English class. My grammar sucks today because I refused to learn anything in high school English. I can't tell the difference between my left toe and a past participle, and I, tend to, you know, overuse commas.
As a semi-grown-up I now realize why I failed that stupid, ASININE standardized test. I hadn't been taught to write to the test. I almost failed because I had never been instructed in the three paragraph essay model, which might be the most boring form of writing on the planet. You see, my previous teachers saw my love for writing and encouraged it. They didn't set up a frame work. They let me run. They were awesome.
It's taken me years to feel comfortable with exploring my love for writing again. Writing anything feels presumptuous. Sharing my writing with anyone is almost torture. Thank you standardized testing. I blame you for everything.
Now my kids are being subjected to this garbage. Here they call it "Sunshine State Standards". I suppose that's supposed to make it sound happy and fun. When my kid came home from school a few weeks ago and said the reading guidelines made him feel dumb, I got angry. Really angry. Like smoke coming out of my ears angry. I called the school and used the word "asinine", which is my favorite word to use. This made me realize something, I have an advantage that my parents didn't have. Standardized testing and accountability were new concepts when I took that eternally dream-crushing exam. My parents didn't have any idea what that test was and what it was used for. Now "standardized testing" is a household phrase and through mockery and heavy use of the word asinine, I think my kids will take them with an eye roll and a "oh my gosh this is the stupidest thing ever". They won't use it to judge themselves. Dreams have a shot at growing.
