In every community the Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test (FCAT) was given to African-American, Latino and white children living in poverty, scores were low. Just about all of the 34,873 lowest scores, those children who now may wear the Scarlet Letter, came out of economically depressed neighborhoods. Higher FCAT scores without exception came from communities where African-American, Latino and white children live in relative affluence, material comfort and physical safety.
So now the dance around Florida’s pink elephant begins.
The governor, the legislators, and school board members across the state will dance for campaign contributors who fund their runs for office. Their corporate backers generated this whole standardized testing movement in the first place. Their preference is for a private for-profit school system and the FCAT provides a steady stream of headlines that scream of failing public schools.
The political appointees on the Florida Board of Education and the bureaucrats in the Florida Department of Education and the office of Commissioner Eric Smith will dance to advance their influence and career goals. Their job is to manufacture every rationalization no matter how farfetched, find every stitch of evidence no matter how irrelevant, and offer up every diversion no matter how harebrained to hide the pink elephant. But the pink elephant will still be there. There is a perfect correlation of FCAT scores to the economic circumstances of the test taker.
The FCAT is different things to different people.
For a devious and ambitious politician the FCAT can be the gateway to higher office. In 2006 Jeb Bush handed his job over to Charlie Crist and began appearing with New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg. The two prospective 2008 presidential candidates wanted to talk to the nation about our schools. Bush advertised himself as the “education governor” based on skyrocketing FCAT scores in Florida. As they reported this year’s results The Miami Herald recalled that, “In 2006, thousands of third-grade reading scores were inflated because the test was too easy … an error discovered in 2007. The state later hired a consultant to oversee the testing program and all future tests.”
For the 8 or 9-year-old child the FCAT is a trial by fire. Children have vomited on their test booklets. Children have wet themselves during the test. All the tested children are anxious. It is not a health anxiety. It is not like butterflies before you play the big game or run the big race. For some of these young children there is a sense of dread. The FCAT is a monster under the bed.
If only the FCAT were an imaginary ogre that could be dispatched with a hug and some soothing reassurance from a loved one. But this threat is not in their minds. It is real. Every child knows one thing going into that third grade FCAT testing room. They know there is strict punishment for poor performance. They know the punishment is not over quickly. They know it will last a long time.
The State of Florida essentially embarked on a groundbreaking educational experiment through the FCAT. The Miami Herald describes it thus, “Third-graders have to score a two or higher in reading to move on to fourth grade. Research shows students need to master reading by third grade to learn from textbooks and not fall behind in class, which could eventually lead to dropping out of school.” Poverty, racism, neglect, abuse, malnutrition, the constant threat of violence—there will be no excuses for the inability to master FCAT reading skills. The state is determined to test the nurturing properties of shame and public humiliation on poor children.
34,873.
Tonight there are 34,873 little souls in Florida that tremble at what may come tomorrow.
Paul A. Moore
Miami Carol City High
Miami, Florida
