I went to the funeral of my student today. Her young life – twenty-three, the same age as
my daughter – was cut off by another because of his poor driving and a rain-slick road. As I
watched her husband hold their nine-month-old while trying to comfort their two-year-old who
was crying for mommy, I was reminded once again how short life is. It’s too short to be afraid to
stand up for yourself or your ideas. It’s too short to be embarrassed about not being accepted or
not fitting in. It’s too short to worry about going against the consensus. It’s too short not to
batteries. With budget cuts and a slow economy, I was not getting any help from my school to
attend the conference and paying my own way was a burden, but I was glad to put up with the
financial strain because I felt I was mentally and emotionally drowning, suffocating, stagnating –
not a good position for a teacher to be in. I desperately needed to mingle with the literati of the
educational culture, hear new ideas, and be reminded that real research and investigation and real
teaching were happening somewhere. I needed to be refreshed and energized, and I was not
disappointed for the most part; however, one session shook me, embarrassed me, made me
question my work and my methods, and lowered my self-esteem to rock bottom. The presenter
in question – I’m sure – did not mean to do this, and I’m also sure is not aware that the
presentation had such an impact on me. The session haunted me all during the conference, and
The presentation that I attended and that has stayed with me so long lasted about fifteen
minutes. It was written like a journalism article and read to us by the presenter. I was already
disappointed – reading to educated peers is just lazy. I wanted to attend the session because some
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of the information in the presentation had come from an interview the presenter conducted over
the telephone with me, and I wanted to see what he had learned from me and the other people he
said he had interviewed. I was especially interested because less than a week before the
conference the presenter was just gathering the information by telephone survey and typing the
presentation into a computer as we spoke. I was astonished that such a task so close to the
conference could be pulled off. I was also curious to see how the interview would be connected
to research. But I was astonished when I actually heard what the presenter had to say. His work
was completely anecdotal – no real research of any kind – and was more of a personal editorial.
The session topic concerned a state mandated test that Georgia requires of its students.
The presenter gave a quick lamentable review of the woes of the exam and its construction – all
based on his personal opinion instead of research. Next he offered a few pointed jabs about the
lack of educational quality behind the test, as well as grumbling about poor teacher involvement
in preparations for the test. Then there appeared to be derision of those interviewed who teach
students how to pass the test. Many of the interviewees had conflicting emotions about the whole
process. A quote even came from my interview where I changed my mind about something as
we spoke – it was presented as one of several jokes about how those of us teaching this test
The presenter went on to disparage those teachers who use direct tutoring as a method to
help students understand how to write for the test – my method of choice. Also, the presenter
scorned the formula method of writing – my style of teaching this test. Finally, the presenter
cajoled the audience to lift students to loftier, more creative heights, and even urged us to rally
against the exam – somewhat tongue-in-cheek, of course. The topic generated several minutes of
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lively discussion afterwards – it seems Georgia is not the only state to have such a test as many
educators groused about similar instruments they had experienced in other states.
I left that session mortified. According to the presenter, who is well liked and looked up
to by others in the field, and to some audience members, what I was doing in my job was wrong,
wrong, wrong! First, I couldn’t make up my mind about where I stood on the state exam issue.
And, I seemed to be using the wrong method of teaching! And, I seemed to be teaching writing
by the wrong method! I was an idiot! I was out of it! I had been in southwest Georgia far too
long! These feelings persisted throughout the conference and followed me home. But then
something happened that changed my whole perspective. Test scores for all the schools in the
state of Georgia were released – and my school did very well, again. And the presenter’s school
Now, I knew this - I knew that my school typically did well on the test scores – but in my
mortification, I had forgotten. For whatever reason, I was so wrapped up in my own failings that
I did not see any achievements. But what makes our students’ achievements even more
remarkable is that my school is a little, rural school with relatively little money compared to the
other schools in the state. The presenter’s school is bigger, with more prestige and more money.
Also, there are major community differences between our two schools. His community has
money and diverse resources while my community has one of the highest jobless rates in the
state, one of the highest high school drop out rates in the state, one of the highest teen pregnancy
rates in the state, one of the highest infant death rates in the state – yet my school still manages to
take these almost hopeless individuals and get them through that test equal to or better than the
for my students! No, I don’t have a Ph.D. like the presenter, but I do have a degree, and I have
twenty-five years experience teaching mostly “in the trenches” of public education – and the
presenter is only a few years older than that. And no, I don’t like the state exam, but I recognize
the fact that I don’t have a choice here. The employer demands it. The state provides it. And it is
my responsibility to help my students get through the test successfully in any honest way
The conference changed my life in a variety of ways. This session, in particular, changed
my life - eventually for the better, and for that I thank the presenter. But I should have said
something then, at the conference, when I had a chance. But I was afraid. I wanted to fit in. And
time passed, and I did nothing about it, until today. Life is too short not to stand up for what I
believe in and what I do because I know that I am helping my students meet their dreams. And
today I went to the funeral of my student, a young mother of two with so many dreams.