Not you, not your students.
Exactly and so many students fall into this hole. Many believe that their grade on tests determine who they are.

★

Kiana Khansmith
Three Goblin Art
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

ellievsbear
🪼
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Claire Keane
Game of Thrones Daily
$LAYYYTER

No title available

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
dirt enthusiast
we're not kids anymore.

pixel skylines
almost home
No title available

shark vs the universe

No title available
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from France
seen from Japan

seen from Malaysia
seen from New Zealand
seen from Maldives
seen from Japan

seen from Malaysia

seen from Canada

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from Germany

seen from Spain

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
@stop-state-tests-blog
Not you, not your students.
Exactly and so many students fall into this hole. Many believe that their grade on tests determine who they are.
Can it be good, from the age of 10 to the age of 23 , to be always preparing for an exam, and always knowing that your whole worldly future depends on it: and not only knowing it, but perpetually reminded of it by your parents and masters? Is this the way to breed a nation of people in psychological, moral, and spiritual health?
C.S. Lewis to Dr. Warfield M. Firor (March 12, 1950)
Testing Stories Needed!!
Hi, I'm doing a project on standardized testing and I need your stories on how they impact you. These tests are dangerous for students. It's awful feeling as if your test scores define you. Please send me your stories and thoughts on these tests. I deeply appreciate it! :-)
I freAKING HATE STANDARDIZED TESTING.
I work at Chickfila. Every Tuesday is “Kid’s Night,” and we do some sort of craft, like make trees out of pipe cleaners, or glue tissue paper to a person outline. Today, it was paint flowers with celery stalks. It was also the first night I was asked to lead it.
I adored watching the kids paint flowers and stems and the different designs they swirled into the background. But most of all, I liked talking to them. Little kids say the darndest things. Maddie, 11, said her favorite color was sea green and she wanted an accent wall in her bedroom because she saw it in a Lowe’s commercial for painter’s tape. Kennedy, 8, said she likes doing cannonballs because she sinks all the way to the bottom of the pool. Christopher didn’t say anything, but he did make all the flower stamps into smiling people.
I asked every single one what their name was, what their favorite color was, and what grade they were going into.
But you know what every single one of them going into third grade said when I asked if they were excited for school? Every single one?
“I used to be.”
I used to be.
They have only had three years of school, but now they aren’t excited.
“Why aren’t you excited now?”
They all stopped painting, brows furrowing, before they looked up and gave me a sheepish smile.
“I’m scared about the STAAR test.”
THIS IS WHAT STANDARDIZED TESTING DOES TO OUR CHILDREN. IT TERRIFIES THEM. IT SUCKS THE LIFE OUT OF SCHOOL. IT DISGUSTS ME.
EIGHT YEAR OLDS ARE SCARED ABOUT A TEST. SCARED. SCARED ENOUGH TO NOT BE AT ALL EXCITED ABOUT GOING INTO THE THIRD GRADE.
IF YOU DON’T THINK THIS IS A PROBLEM, GET TF OUT MY FACE.
Why is school the only part of my life you care about? Why do you ask me about my test scores but not about my feelings? Why do you tell your friends how you’re proud of my grades, but not my kind heart or creative mind? The fact that the first thing you ask me at dinner is how my finals are going is so sickening I almost stopped eating right then and there. The night those college letters came, you happily announced my PSAT scores to my father before suggesting I go study some more, then changing your mind and telling me to read all the letters out loud to the family instead. I still can’t believe that happened. The whole thing was insane, and I was the only one who could see that. I’m more than a number. I’m not just a bit of small talk you can brag about to your friends. You couldn’t hear the malice in my voice as I read those letters. You couldn’t tell I hated every syllable printed on that crisp white paper. All you can see are the numbers on my report card, and those are mattering less and less to me every day.
sincerely, your straight A daughter // c.r.h. (via carpelanoche)