Feeling Crushed By Tests At Age 11

At first, fifth-grader Edward Lynch didn't pay much attention to his teacher's warnings about the big tests the class would take at the end of the school year. But two weeks before North Carolina's first-ever elementary-promotion exams, Edward says he's scared. He's a B student but an erratic test taker. "The other night I had a dream my books were squishing me and pencils were stabbing me," says the 11-year-old. His classmate West Bullock says, "I have friends who throw up the night before tests." Their teacher, Kelly Allen, worries that half her 21 students in the old mill town of Roanoke Rapids, N.C., are at risk of failing next week's multiple-choice tests on math and reading. If they fail, they won't be able to graduate to middle school. She says, "We may have to fill our parking lot with mobile classrooms."

As Congress debates President Bush's proposal to test all students every year in grades 3 through 8, North Carolina is often cited as a model. The state in 1996 launched its ABCs testing program, a carrot-and-stick approach that holds schools responsible for their students' educational progress. Over the next four years, scores on statewide tests rose 14%. But critics of the program say the cost has been high. The Alliance for Childhood, a partnership of educators and health professionals, asked policymakers last week to consider the toll taken by high-stakes testing of young kids, in ways that range from stomachaches to insomnia and depression.

In Roanoke Rapids, an industrial town of 17,000 just off I-95 near the Virginia border, many fifth-graders spend about two weeks a year taking standardized tests--not counting practice and preparation. Using a complex formula, the state sets targets for each school to improve and doles out bonuses of as much as $1,500 to teachers at schools that meet those goals. The lowest-achieving schools face takeover by state-appointed turnaround teams.

Scores have risen steadily in Roanoke Rapids, and teachers at three of the district's four schools have earned bonuses. But the stakes keep getting higher. The state test that governs promotion to the next grade will expand next year to third- and eighth-graders. Even high-performing schools complain that they are held to ever tougher standards. The staff at Manning Elementary, where 85% of students perform at grade level or higher, frets about losing its state "School of Distinction" designation.

Across town at Belmont Elementary, located in a poorer neighborhood, gains have been modest, the teachers have never won a bonus, and they feel even more heat. "The state tries to shame us into meeting its goals," says Belmont principal Kathy Lawson. "But we have educational victories every day that can't be measured by computer scanners." Says John Parker, an assistant superintendent for the Roanoke Rapids district: "You can teach poorly and get high test results."

His schools, Parker says, are sacrificing important lessons in science, social studies and foreign languages to focus on concepts that will be tested. High school biology students no longer dissect frogs. "I can't spare two weeks for that," says teacher Steffany LaBree. A U.S. history teacher doesn't assign research papers because they don't help him prepare students for state-mandated tests. The town's educators say they don't oppose accountability. Many of them prefer the method adopted by states such as Vermont, in which independent reviewers assess portfolios of student work. Many educators also oppose harsh consequences for schools that fail to meet state targets. But Mike Ward, state superintendent of public instruction, responds that "without consequences, there aren't assurances that the curriculum has been delivered."

High-stakes testing has the support of about three-fourths of adults in nationwide polls--but not, it appears, in Roanoke Rapids. "If they have kids with straight A's, they think it's fine," said the mother of a struggling fifth-grader. "But I think there's too much pressure with this pass-fail system." Lisa Patterson, a mother of three, views the accountability system as a social experiment whose outcome is not yet known. "Kids may emerge ready to take on the world," she says, "or we may lose a lot along the way."