Spring, When High School is Mud-Luscious

Examiner column for April 30.   

    Around the teacher lunchroom, hands are wringing and teachers are beginning to panic. It’s test time, and our students are not as nervous as we would like them to be.

    As I lecture on James Joyce, or spend five more minutes going over test-taking strategies, I occasionally spy a silly grin on the face of one of my better students and chalk it up to spring.

    Yes, ee cummings was right. Spring is the time when the world is “mud-luscious.” The ominous presence of the balloon-man in his poem is nothing compared to the ominous blue Scantron forms that teachers learn to dread throughout May. Whether our students bubble a, b, c, or d might make or break our careers in high school teaching.

    But students are not thinking of their teachers’ careers. They’re thinking about prom. Or about azaleas, or the girl across the room, or the boy who just walked past the door. James Joyce himself could be lecturing in Room 258 on “Dubliners” and I wager my students, looking down studiously, on second glance might be detected text messaging someone across the room.

    Two of my students admit to text messaging one another, even though they sit side-by-side. “We do it so as not to disturb the class!” they claim. Is it perverse that I see a certain logic there?

    Absenteeism is legion. They all have good excuses: they are visiting colleges to make a final decision, there is a family reunion in Kansas, their finance class is taking a trip to a bank. No one is sick, but 8% have an excuse to be out of class.

    So begins the game: “Did I miss anything?” It’s noble to say that students are responsible for what they missed, but three weeks later there might be a parent email noting that Johnny was not aware he had work to make up and could the teacher please accept it late? Only the most hard-hearted say no. Teachers consequently find it prudent to take preventive measures, chasing after seven students to say, “Yes--- you missed something!”

    Spring is, perhaps most ominously of all, a time for teachers to size up the year. Will their students do well on standardized measures? What could we have done better? How have we messed up?

    There is the sober realization that some students simply don’t do well on multiple choice tests. “No way is that student going to pass the test…” can frequently be heard muttered under a teacher’s breath. There are the delightful surprises, as well. Three or four of my students, contrary to the “start slowly and taper off” motto of most seniors, are just revving up in May---for the test? College? The future? Life? Those students are blessings, and I count them daily. (One, two…)

    Like all springs, this one will pass, as the luscious mud hardens and yields to summer. Truthfully, I enjoy spring fever. The silly grins that light up their faces might have been mine many years ago. And I have every intention of smiling---after the test!

Comments

[David]

My students try the "pre-emptive" strike to being out of class: "Dr. Miller, I'll be gone Thursday on a baseball trip; we aren't doing anything important, are we?" We have also noticed as we near final exams how dangerous this time of year is for grandparents who suddenly become ill and need their grandchildren's full attention, or how many car accidents--not serious, thank goodness!--suddenly begin to occur which clog the roads for commuters. April really is, apparently, the cruelest month. . . .

[Erica]

David! So great to hear from you. Your last comment I mistook for my son David---hence the inappropriate "SeriousEats" comment.( He helped set up their site. Great food site, btw.) I have made it to the bigtime and will be attending sample selection this year. All behind-doors secrets will be yours in Louisville. See you soon!

[Bob F]

On the West Coast spring doesn't hit with such force since it is nearly always spring. Absenteeism among seniors does occur, however. In our family's case it is the accumulated stress of making a decision that leads to the required "mental health" day. It also leads to the, "I may not actually take that non-required AP Lit exam." We sputter and say such things as, "...but you're a writer why wouldn't you take it?" We get pitying or withering glances depending on our tone or her mood. At any rate, soon she will be going east to the land of spring and for better or worse our nest will be empty or more commodious depending on our moods.

[Erica]

She MUST take that AP exam! She'll get a 5 and I'm sure Brown will do something to help her move ahead in her coursework. I'll ask the Hogwarts guy tomorrow....