A question for the folks who write college-entrance exams…

Just the other day, I had the privilege of proctoring a college entrance examination for some of my students. To keep myself out of trouble, I won’t name the specific examination I was administering. But let’s just say that it has been around for a very long time–so long that I remember taking it myself over two decades ago.

The long list of instructions that I was required to read out loud hasn’t changed much since I started supervising these exams back in the 1990s. In fact, I practically have them memorized. A lot of students are surprised that, between hearing all of my instructions and filling in all of their personal information, it’s likely to take at least 45 minutes before they finally start to bubble their first answers to grammar and math problems.

I admit that, on this particular day, the long delay was partially my fault, because I wanted to give my students a little pep talk before they started. “You never know–maybe a few extra questions correct will end up making the difference in determining whether you get into your dream college,” I told them with an excited voice. “Or, maybe a good score will help you qualify for a good scholarship. So try your best. You can do this!”

I know I didn’t stick to the script verbatim, but I think it’s important for the students to know that I’m not just a test-wielding robot. I actually care that they do their absolute best, especially because I teach in a community with a lot of hard-working families afflicted by a high poverty rate. I’m proud of the town I live in. My school consistently has one of the top college acceptance rates in our county, even though we aren’t located in the country-club part of town. I’ve read plenty of papers and books about student assessment, so I know that a student’s mindset both before and during the test can strongly influence his or her performance. But that concept shouldn’t be surprising to anyone who is a football fan. Imagine a lazy football coach, for example, who takes a little pre-game nap instead of giving his boys a rousing pep talk before the big homecoming game. What are the chances his team would defeat their well-coached opponents, who might have heard 10 minutes of loud, inspirational morale-boosting before the opening kickoff?

So as I read my script for probably the hundredth time in my career, my mind started to wander, and I thought to myself: What must go through the mind of a teenager during those 45 minutes? More importantly, what goes through the mind of a poor teenager? Or a teenager who doesn’t speak English fluently? Or a teenager whose parents never attended college? In other words, what must be going through the minds of the students in my community?

Well, for starters, the students are told to bubble a single choice for their ethnicity. No instructions are given for how to define these ethnic labels, and no accommodation is made for the many students whose families fit more than one racial category. I must admit, I am a white male, so I’m not speaking from personal experience, but I’ve been told that it’s not a real great ego boost for a person of color to be reminded that they weren’t endowed with white privilege at birth. I’m going to guess that requiring young adults to affirm that fact, in writing, on the answer sheet to their college entrance exam probably doesn’t make them feel too great. Certainly not as confident as those football players who just received the best 10-minute pre-game pep-talk in history from their loving coach!

A little later on, the students must bubble “yes” or “no” to the question of whether they are a U.S. Citizen. I imagine a German exchange student might not bat an eye at such a question, but I guarantee you that it instantly elevates the blood pressure of every undocumented student in the room. I know there are conservative-minded folks out there who don’t think undocumented students deserve a chance to go to a university. Saving that worthy debate for later, I’ll simply say this: These are supposed to be standardized tests, which means everyone should have an equal shot at getting the best score they can. I don’t know about you, but when I was 16, I was a pretty confident little fellow, but I wouldn’t react too well to an overt, government-style reminder that armed agents might break up my family at any time without warning. After a little reminder like that, I think I’d miss a few trigonometry problems.

The grand finale, of course, is when students have to write their home mailing address. Well, they don’t have to just write it. They also have to hand-bubble every single letter, number, space, hyphen, and slash in their address. Seriously. The process can take 5 minutes, even for the sharpest college-bound student. Students are told to provide this address so that all the glossy college brochures and important scholarship letters will be delivered to the right house. I wonder if the folks who write these tests ever stopped to think a little. Some of our students don’t have a home mailing address. I have students who are smart enough to go to college who are living in a car, or are bouncing around between several different relatives, or are staying with friends until something terrible cools down at home. What goes through their minds for 5 minutes while they’re bubbling that address? I don’t think they’re going to be reminding themselves how to properly conjugate a verb in the subjunctive.

So for those nice folks who write these tests, let me ask a simple question. It’s a question that has been asked many times before now, by many people far more eloquent than me. It has been asked for a couple of decades now, because I remember it being asked out loud back when I was in teacher school, and it probably wasn’t even a new question then, either. Here’s the question: If you really want your test to be standardized, in other words, if you really want every kid in America to have a fair shake at the American Dream, then why, why, for Pete’s sake, WHY don’t you ask these damned questions AFTER the test is over? Or, better yet, have the test-takers fill out all of that stuff prior to testing day? Why not take up that golden 45 minutes with a rousing pep talk about their opportunity to go to college? That what they are doing will help them live an enlightened life, open career doors, and exert greater economic and political power? I’m waiting for an answer.