The title of this post is meant to be said in an angered British accent with shaking fist upheld. All of a sudden, the Alabama State Department of Education decides that in order for me to be certified, I have to take the Praxis II. In both subject areas, I assume (Language Arts and Spanish). Now, I know in many states, in 39 of the 50, the Praxis is required for certification. Alabama wasn't one of them. Now all of a sudden, Alabama decides to jump on the "higher standards" bandwagon and spring this on us last minute. Not that I think I'll do terribly and I'm deathly afraid of standardized tests, it's just that I'm just sick of this . . . please don't get me started on No Child Left Behind and its fallacies. I'm tired of testing being shoved in teachers' faces and students' faces with ultimatums. Like a test can truly measure intelligence. Like it can accurately measure a teacher's performance.
But what am I complaining about? I'm the standardized test queen. PSAT, SAT, ACT, APTTP and soon GRE (if I want to go to grad school soon, that is.) Standardized tests got me where I am today. If it weren't for the dear old PSAT, I wouldn't have become a National Achievement Semifinalist. And if it weren't for the PSAT's daddy, Mr. SAT, well, would I have even been offered the sweet scholarship package responsible for luring me to this fine institution of higher learning? And if it weren't for the SAT's sidekick, the ACT, would I have been accepted into college, into honors programs, etc., etc.? Catch 22, yo. Catch 22.
But all of that aside, what poor college student has $150 to shell out unexpectedly for some test (well, two tests in my case)? (sigh) Guess it'll soon be time to hit up the 'rents.
I don't want to end on a sour note. Dealing with the 7th graders today wasn't bad. It's still weird being called Miss Smith. Even weirder, I can't go to any public place without being spotted by one of my former or present students. I guess when you're a teacher, the teacher persona never leaves you, even outside of the classroom.
There's still a million and one things to do and I don't feel like doing them. How did I make it this far with such reluctance to get things done? I'm like in the advanced stages of terminal senioritis. I gotta hang in there. 3 more weeks . . . 3 more weeks . . . .
1 comment:
For things like this we have the "serenity prayer" & the "footprints" in the sand story - and the "don't worry be happy" song :0) - And being a teacher looks like you got the cheers song going on "sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name, people are always glad you came, dada-da-da-da-da-da-da -I don't know the rest of the words :0) Looks like you got your "Sha-sha on, you're growing up big daddy!" :0)
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