Some people take to standardized tests like ducks take to water. They view such tests as a high-stakes form of entertainment, or as a validation of years’ worth of academic preparation. I was one of those people.
My oldest son is not.
For the last month-and-a-half, we have gotten up at 5:45 a.m. four days a week to sneak in some confidence-building test prep for today’s ACT. Today’s test was supposed to be the culmination of even more work than that–two sessions with a fairly expensive tutor, Saturdays spent taking practice tests, extra visits to a math teacher.
Then the tornado sirens wailed, and the test takers had to go into the hallway to wait for the all clear. And wait. And wait. Calls were made, and the word came from on high that the test takers had the option of cancelling scores and getting to take the test again at a later date, or processing the scores but getting zeroes on the incomplete sections.
Sticking around to complete the exam was not an option. Test takers and their parents were expected to shrug benignly and say, “It is what it is.”
So here’s what I have to say to the higher-ups at the ACT. If you don’t trust the people you hired to proctor the test in situations like these without compromising test security, then you ought to re-examine your hiring practices. But you’d be silly to do that here. My MSMS colleagues who administer the test are absolutely above reproach. Hooper Science Building was as secure a location as one could have outside of Fort Knox. There were no cell phones out. There were enough adults there to prevent table talk. Concerns over test security were ludicrous. I can only conclude that we’ve been forced to live by a protocol that applies to other places. Round hole, meet square peg.
As for weather alarmists everywhere: a heavy thunderstorm came through the Golden Triangle of Mississippi. Big. Fat. Hairy. Deal. I’ve watched my kids play soccer in weather as bad as what came through our corner of Columbus. If my kids can do that outside, then it’s surely safe to take the ACT inside.
I’m not talking about ignoring a Category 5 hurricane bearing down on the coast. I’m not talking about mowing the grass with a tornado whirling in plain sight three miles away. I’m talking about taking a test inside while there’s thunder and lightning outside.
I’m also talking about a three-week period in the not-so-distant future where my son and I will be up very early four days a week to prepare once again for a test that he hates.