Testing (or: when a morale-booster ends up being demoralizing)

Standard

This past week, we got the results of Julianna’s “re-eval.”

Now, for those of you who are not immersed in the world of special education, part of the process is that every three years a child must be re-evaluated to make sure they still qualify for special ed. There’s a whole battery of tests, and I guess the team has some leeway in which ones they think they need and will actually be useful.

Julianna just went through this process, and I’m blogging about it because this is the first time I ever understood the antipathy among special needs parents to the whole concept of IQ testing. (Check out this link–the first one to come up–to realize how people thought of those with low IQs when this first became a thing.)

Truthfully, I was kind of curious. Julianna was tested when she went into kindergarten, and at that time we were told that in the first couple years of elementary school the number can shift. I don’t remember exactly what her first IQ was—I think it was middle/high 60s.

Three years later, they didn’t retest her IQ. I was slightly unhappy about that, because I was sure it would go up and let’s be honest, I wanted that morale booster.

Well, this time they did the IQ testing. In fact, they led with those results when we met last week.

40s, people. She tested in the 40s.

They were quick to say they didn’t think this was representative of her actual intelligence. They had to pull her from class to take the tests—all of them. And she was not happy about that. Not happy at all. She loves school. There’s not one single thing she doesn’t like about school. So the entire time she was being tested, she was grouchy and focused on getting back to class, where she belonged.

But they kept going around the table, and every one of those global numbers came out in the 40s. It was all the same caveats:

“She showed she understood the question, but the instructions said to use the cue word, and she didn’t use it. She used other words instead. So she got counted off for that.”

Or:

“Some of these areas she scored really high on—in the 70s or 80s—but the comprehension is her problem.”

Or:

“She was really focused more on what we were doing after the test was done rather than the questions.”

You get the idea. And I found myself stopping the meeting to say, “Hang on. If these tests are not indicative of what she’s actually capable of, why are we doing them?”

They hastened to add that they chose some more…descriptive (I think that’s the word they used) tests that they felt would showcase her strengths, to supplement the standardized tests. So that’s good.

But for me, this has put the whole question of standardized testing in a new light, which is why I’m sharing. Too many of us just take many of these things for granted.

I totally get that standardized tests are standardized for a reason. Everybody gets the same instructions. Nobody gets clarifications. Nobody gets alternative instructions. That’s the only scientific way to say everybody got exactly the same opportunity. My whole life, people have complained, “Standardized tests don’t test knowledge. They test how well you take tests.” I always thought that was hogwash, but then, I’m a darned good test taker.

Now, I understand.

And here’s the thing: for most of us, those standardized tests are really not that important. But Julianna’s going into the 5th grade. In the next twelve months, the entire shape of her middle school experience will be decided. The whole purpose of this battery of tests was to help direct that process.

So now what? Will she be walled off in a self-contained classroom where her focus will be “essential skills”, and no longer be able to interact with her typically-developing peers for any academic work whatsoever? How much inclusion is possible? How much can we fight for?

It would be very easy to use that 40-something IQ and related test results, and put her out of sight-out of mind for the rest of her educational experience. And she would be poorer for that. Even more importantly, her peers would be poorer for it.

Now, for the first time, I understand why all those parents said, “Don’t ever, ever, ever, EVER let them do an IQ test on your kid!”

I said to our IEP team: “We have always had a really good experience, we’ve never felt like the relationship with the school was combative, we’ve always felt like we were on the same page. I need you guys to stand with us as we go forward in this process. The reality is, Julianna is never going to be a high academic achiever. Sticking her behind a wall isn’t going to change that. She won’t accomplish any more there than she would outside it. What she’s good at is people. She needs to be around people, and they need to be around her. I need you guys to help us discern what is the appropriate level of inclusion, and I need you guys to advocate for us.”

So that’s where we are. We have a true IEP meeting in a few weeks. I’ll update after that.

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4 thoughts on “Testing (or: when a morale-booster ends up being demoralizing)

  1. Although I don’t have a special needs child of my own, I’m with you all the way about inclusion as much as possible. I also agree that there’s no way the testing circumstances were conducive to getting accurate results—if that’s even possible.

  2. ProfeJMarie (Janet Rundquist)

    Speaking as an educator, I’d say your statement “That’s the only scientific way to say everybody got exactly the same opportunity” about standardized tests is where it all goes wrong. Because there is no such thing as a test that offers everyone the exact same opportunity. Or the exact same understanding of the question (not only for your Julianna, but culturally and socio-economically, too). Or the exact same logical answer.

    I would hope your special ed team stands with you on inclusion. Sure, some pull-out time will be beneficial, but modifications when necessary in all the other courses will fully benefit, too. Good luck at the IEP. If you trust your team and their professional judgment, then hopefully you won’t have to fight too hard.

    • I trust them implicitly right now, but the team will be totally different a year from now, because it will be a new school. I had this fear transitioning from preschool to kindergarten, too, and it proved unfounded, so we can hope. The chorus of negativity about testing (mostly on Facebook) has me wondering: if no one likes testing, why *do* we keep doing it? I mean, I know it’s mandated from above, but if it’s universally despised, who is holding the flag among the Powers That Be, saying to keep it?

      On Tue, May 1, 2018 at 9:02 PM, Kathleen M. Basi wrote:

      >

      • ProfeJMarie (Janet Rundquist)

        Non-educators are determining that it’s the only way to keep schools accountable. It’s very frustrating.

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