Today, the older kids sat down to eat their cereal at the table, where they found certificates made by Mom declaring their awesomeness. Garrett recently passed a 100 question-4 minute timed multiplication test, and Brenna passed a series of multiplication math tests up to her 11s. Yay!
This is the first ever challenging timed test Garrett has been able to pass. (pass means all 100 questions correct. Apparently there is no room for error. You get one wrong, you do it again.) It's a popular public school tool here in Oregon. The schools in Washington used it, too. He was able to breeze through the 0s and 1s of course. And the 2s and 3s (which most kids did last year) he was able to do quickly this year. The last few months he has spent working on those 6s and 7s . All the other kids in his class have gone all the way through the 12s. However, on the statewide standardized testing, he far surpassed the math requirements.
In his math class, at the end of every trimester they have an ice cream party. If you complete the test for your 0s, 1s, and 2s times tables, you get a napkin. 3s, 4s, you get a spoon. 5s, 6s and 7s, you get a bowl. 8s, a scoop of ice cream. 9s on up gets you toppings on that scoop.
Garrett has just won......a bowl.
That's right. After working his butt off trying to conquer whatever keeps him from mastering the stress of the timed test (he knows the facts just fine; it takes him a few seconds to retrieve them), he gets a bowl. The last trimester's party he was the only child with no ice cream. This trimester ends this week and he will again be the only one without ice cream.
Even though he has accomplished a great deal.
Oh, and she doesn't really give you just a bowl, napkin, and spoon, either.
I get that teachers are looking for ways to incite students to push themselves. But it makes me sad that any child would have to sit in a room full of kids having an ice cream party while he reads a book. Is he really thinking, "wow, I can't wait to bust my ass and get that ice cream next time!" or is he thinking, "I am bad at math"?
The child who lives in this house is convinced he is bad at math. We had to show him his annual standardized test results, to show him there were only a few kids in his grade who tested higher than he did, to give him a bigger picture. But he is still not entirely sure.
Brenna's class has a different incentive. A McFlurry party. The teacher is bringing supplies and making mock McFlurries for the kids who have passed the times table tests. Brenna passed. She has no trouble with retrieving the answers quickly; she's actually quite good at it. Do we work her harder? No. Do we spend more time nurturing her math skills than we do Garrett's? No. Is she "smarter"? No.
She is very excited about her mock McFlurry party today. She told me, though, that one boy might not get his. Why? Well, when the teacher announced who would be getting them and who would not, he decided to taunt the little girl next to him. The little girl is a sweet kid, smart, cute, very friendly. Brenna told me she almost made it through the test but came just a bit under. The boy said some mean things about her competence, and was bragging on his own supposed competence. The teacher caught him and has not yet decided if he will receive his treat.
I bet he does. I bet the teacher will not be able to see the situation as a mirror to her own actions of flaunting one child's accomplishments in front of another child's failure, and she will make him apologize and then give him his treat. Then, he can eat his McFlurry, and the little girl gets a big lump of "I'm not smart enough" to swallow instead. Hopefully the taste won't last in her mouth for long. But something tells me it's one of those tastes you never really shed.
