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How Is My Child Doing? Student
Evaluation in Waldorf Schools |
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In recent years, there has been a stampede to institute standardized testing for schoolchildren. The aim is to set clear standards for skills and knowledge to be acquired, to make schools and teachers accountable, and to provide a workforce that can compete in the world economy. Forty-eight states now have standardized tests, and children are being tested earlier in their school careers and more and more frequently. After years of decline, test scores are rising and suggest to some that high expectations and rigorous testing of achievement may, in fact, "work." In pedagogical circles, much criticism has been leveled against standardized testing. It brings more government interference into education and creates an atmosphere of stress and anxiety that is detrimental to a healthy learning environment. The multiple-choice format on which the exams rely can test only fact retention and certain intellectual skills. Well-known educator John Taylor Gatto writes: There's no teacher worth his or her salt who, inside of a period at the start of a year, doesn't know who's going to get the As, who is going to get the Bs, who is going to cause trouble. . . . What we allowed to happen is for normal good judgment and wisdom to be set aside for some kind of mathematical wizardry. There's nothing a standardized test measures other than your ability to score well on the next standardized test. 1 For children, tests loom large. Tests determine whether one passes or fails, is a "good" student or a "poor" student. At the same time, students are keenly aware of the senselessness of certain questions and the shortcomings of the multiple-choice system. An astute ninth grader once remarked to me: "Some tests only show whether you're good at taking tests." They breed anxiety, a feeling of powerlessness, and resentment; standardized tests make children feel unseen, unknown, and not trusted. Tests emphasize fact retention and intellectual skills, and students dimly feel that tests leave an important part of their being unrecognized. A 1998 survey revealed that 80 percent of high school students have committed some form of cheating, such as using a cheat sheet on exams or plagiarizing written work. Perhaps cheating is a form of protest, a rebellion from the part that is left out. Standardized testing seeks to improve education, but often it undermines learning. Teachers are forced to "teach to tests," and the resulting atmosphere leaves little room for interest, enthusiasm, or the prime motivator, joy. A teacher's attitude and feelings concerning a topic or activity greatly influence the children and their interest and ability to learn. Just as the warmth and light of the sun draws forth plants, the teacher's positive attitude promotes the learning and development of the child. If a teacher is interested and takes joy in the process of learning, the children will flourish. Standardization and excessive testing lock both teachers and children into a situation of stress and deprive them of vital motivation. In
Waldorf schools, exams and quantitative assessments do play a role,
but a relatively minor one. One can get results by a system of rewards
(good grades) and punishments (bad grades), as one can train a circus
horse to do tricks, but such results are forced and bound to be short-lived.
Also, a carrot-and-stick pedagogy doesn't sufficiently recognize the
natural curiosity and love of learning that is in every normal child.
Education, in the true sense of the word, should aim to "lead forth."
It should not only prepare children to meet external standards, but
also enable them to realize their innate potential, to follow their
own stars. Waldorf Education aims to foster and serve that inborn, human
spark. It is in this task that the true accountability of the teacher
lies. In Waldorf schools there is typically very little or no testing in the early grades. Testing in the academic subjects asks from the children to fulfill a given task alone, usually within a given time limit. It brings clarity, awareness, and focus. In the earlier grades, children are more dreamy and less individualized than they are later on. There is little need to single them out and wake them up this early. Testing at this age often causes premature self-awareness and tenseness. To be seen, loved, and appreciated gives enough incentive. Beginning in grade four or five, however, little quizzes such as spelling checks are good in anticipation of the more formal testing to come. In about the sixth grade, a new mode of learning, a new motivation comes in, and the relationship to the class teacher begins to shift. Children become more aware of their own capacities and want to measure themselves against objective standards. Testing now begins to have pedagogical merit. As the authority of the one class teacher begins to wane-typically in the seventh grade-children begin to find new authority figures in other persons they admire. They also seek the authority of facts and figures, or of the dictionary. Test results can play a healthy role here. Being evaluated in terms of a percentage or a grade is fitting at this stage, just as measuring lengths of strings in order to calculate intervals is an age-appropriate activity in seventh-grade physics. This meets a need. In the maelstrom of adolescent emotions, figures represent objectivity. Approval and appreciation remain vital, and it is especially important that children should not feel stuck with test results. They should be able to practice, make corrections, do tests over again. That way, the children have a yardstick for their achievements but also something to aim and train for. In the end, exercise of the will is what matters most. Tests also have a function as a final stage of the learning process. New material is presented. The next day it is discussed and is taken in by the student at a deeper level. Then the students write and draw in their main lesson books and engage in various artistic activities. Through such endeavors-acting, drawing, painting, clay modeling, and so on-that engage the will and the feelings and that arise from the content of the lesson, the students fully digest and assimilate the material. In the final stage of the process, the child can show in a test that the material has become internalized enough that it can be reproduced. This is like a plant being able to form a seed. Done in this way, testing does have a pedagogical value that continues into high school. The process prior to the exam is the opposite of the pernicious practice of cramming for exams, whereby the student is engaged very superficially with the lesson material. Thus tests do play a role in Waldorf Education, albeit a minor one. Nevertheless, Waldorf students tend to perform well when they move into mainstream education, where tests are often the main basis of evaluation. They do well, not because they have been drilled in test taking, but because their schooling has nurtured their vitality and their various capacities and prepared them, not only for the balance of their education, but for the real tests of life later on. 2 There are other, much more important means of assessment and review used in Waldorf schools. These include teacher reports, parent evenings, and school assemblies. The kind of assessment described in the following paragraphs not only aims to measure skills and accomplishments, but recognizes that many aspects of the child's development need to be monitored, that a fair picture only emerges over time, and that the very way one looks at the child actually has an influence. In reports, teachers try to build up a picture. They try to characterize the child, by describing special traits of her playing, the way she forms certain letters, how she uses color, and so on. In addition to intellectual achievements, handwork, movement, social relationships, and other areas are reviewed. These reports are based on more than performance in the classroom. Waldorf teachers strive to get to know each child very well. They are trained to observe each child carefully and with a warm interest. Every day the teacher greets and shakes the hand of each child. There are regular conferences with parents. Teachers make home visits and get to know siblings and the whole life circumstance of the child. In faculty meetings, class teachers hear from colleagues different perspectives on a child. Teachers each evening think in a meditative way about each child and that child's individual needs. Over time, the picture grows and deepens. Also, teachers regularly meet with one or both parents of a child to exchange insights. The teacher, learning about the child's home life, can get a fuller picture. In addition, there are periodic parent evenings when the work of all the children in a class is on display. This adds the important element of comparison. Parents can see their child's work in context, one painting or knitted scarf among all the others, one foreign language book seen in relation to the work other children have done. Another important thing takes place during these parent evenings. In our time, we no longer can take shared values and standards for granted. Increasingly, we need to discuss those and build up common expectations together, and the communication taking place in these evenings helps to do that. This is a process in which we need to invest time. A class teacher I admire very much instituted a weekly potluck with a meeting afterwards, which she carried on for her eight years with the class. In assemblies the whole school community-children, parents (and often grandparents), teachers, and administrators-comes together. These periodic, ideally monthly, gatherings serve many functions. Just as a test can conclude a learning process, a performance in assembly-the singing of a choral piece, the recitation of a poem, the playing of a piece of music, a brief dramatic offering-can close a period of learning, but without grading. Assessment goes on at different levels in assemblies. The children see one another perform. They perceive themselves in relation to where they were and to where they hope to go. Imagine we are fourth graders, thrilled to show how clearly and strongly we can recite from the Edda, the stories about the Norse gods. When we see second graders do their rhythmical math exercises-beating sticks together-we remember how we were at that age. Then we get a glimpse of where we are going when we see those cool teenagers give us a hilarious preview of their class play. In assemblies, the teachers as well as the children have a chance to show the progress they have made. The assembly serves another, more subtle function. We have today unlimited access to excellent artistic creations through recorded music, reproduced paintings, movie and television dramas, and so on. These polished end-products set very high and powerful, but often false and unrealistic, standards. They are likely to obscure the human reality that all of us-children and adults-are in essence humble learners, practicing, but never perfect. Being surrounded by so many artificial, perfect examples is daunting and can contribute to a negative self-judgment. When we sit in a school assembly, a process takes place that can counteract the influence of these "virtual standards." We witness human development, which includes both triumphs and stumbling. This is a healthy thing to see again and again, because it grounds us and the children in reality. Waldorf Education is based on trust in the innate human will to develop capacities and talents, to do well, to shine. Its standards for assessing a child's development are based on an understanding of what is appropriate and to be expected at each age. The young child is always saying "Watch me" and needs, above all, attention and love. The older child continues to need attention and recognition, but also the kind of yardstick that tests can provide. In monitoring the child's growth over time in the ways described, we both assess accomplishments and promote the development of the child. In addition, we as parents and educators can learn about the new possibilities for the children in our care. In such a process of assessment we are allowed not only to see the achievements that we can judge, but also to get a glimpse of the future. ENDNOTES
1. Excerpt from an interview with John Taylor Gatto in the Christian
Science Monitor, Oct. 10, 2000. Jan-Kees Saltet was born in Amsterdam, the Netherlands, and educated at the University of Groningen and at the University of Utrecht, where he received a Master of Arts in English and in art history. He did his Waldorf teacher training at Emerson College in England and took supplemental training in Stuttgart, Germany. He has been a Waldorf teacher in the Netherlands, Germany, and the United States, and currently teaches at the Hartsbrook School in Hadley, Massachusetts. Jan Kees's wife, Polly, is the eurythmist at the school, and his daughter, Elise, a recent graduate. In their household, the Saltets strive to cultivate the arts and humor.
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