I love the questions you all ask.
Lately, many of the questions have been about testing, prep for testing, and extra time for testing. When you write to me, I write back; I want to answer your questions directly and privately. However, when the same questions come up over and over, I think that's a signal for me to write a longer and more general post. And such is the case this time.
I have a friend who taught in Santiago, Chile, where I used to work many years ago. Every time she gave her kids a math test, she would ask them if they needed more time to finish during lunch or after school. Her refrain was always, "I want to what you know, not how fast you know it." As you can imagine, she was a terrific teacher who was very much loved. She also was good at poking fun at herself, occasionally reminding herself when she couldn't remember something: "I knew it earlier, and I'll know it again in a few minutes, but right this second, I can't seem to remember what it is." (That's actually sounding more and more familiar to me lately, but that's a completely different digression!)
For a long, long time now, both SAT and ACT have been giving students with disabilities the option to have extended time on standardized testing, following more or less the same line of thinking as my friend in Santiago. Show us what you know, not how fast you know it. The outcome has been thousands and thousands of kids taking tests with extended time limits and scoring higher results to send to colleges. And obviously, when a student has a higher test score, her chances of being admitted to a particular college or university are also higher.
So, the rub comes from folks who argue that if their kid had extra time, he would also get a higher score. That line of thinking seems reasonable enough, and there may real validity in it. Truth is, I don't know. My guess is that studies have been done that support both sides of that argument, and from my personal experience of proctoring hundreds of timed testing situations, most kids finish most test questions within the parameters. But that really isn't my point.
My point is that regardless of the extra time allowed, many students who have already been coping in school for ten or so years with a bona fide learning disability are already so far behind that giving them fifty-percent extended time hardly compensates for the disadvantage that already lies in front of them in any testing situation. But it is something; it's a start. For kids who are crippled by anxiety, then the extra time creates some breathing space where they can think more clearly--something that their regular time buddies don't have to worry about often.
Of course, not every kid has the same ability or the same need, and providing extra time on tests is only one way that attempts to make an artificial testing scenario a little more fair. My guess is that for some kids who have learned to make adjustments successfully, the extra time really does give them an advantage over the regular kids, but in most cases, I'd argue that the extra time isn't ever enough to level the playing field of years of frustration or lack of genuine learning in the academic classroom. The system is not fair--no matter from which side you're looking at it.
To qualify for extended time, students have to demonstrate a history of one or more learning disabilities, and that usually comes in the form of a number of different documents from the school's records plus the signed and sworn statement of a medical or psychological learning specialist who has tested the child in question extensively. And even when there is demonstrated evidence of a genuine disability, the testing agencies don't always immediately grant permission for students to receive extra time. I've known parents who fought and fought and fought before they were able to be successful convincing the agencies that their children qualified for non-standard testing.
In the end, of course, college admissions officers don't know if a student took a test with a specific time limit or not because the scores are reported the same way--no distinction among regular-time or extended-time test scores. That idea was to increase equity among admissions circles so that all students would be considered equally from the beginning. Of course, we know that students are not equal, nor or they considered equal, but at least from the testing point of view, all of them are compared more or less equally by whatever number they have associated with their testing results--for those kids who choose to submit testing. Remember that some schools don't require any kind of testing results at all.
But what about later, on the job? Do those kids who had extra time get the same advantages by having later deadlines than their coworkers or competitors? Probably not. And as far as I know, only the military academies take this into consideration when looking at potential applicants. They are pretty clear in their admissions materials that students with disabilities who need extra time are not considered admissible because (they argue) they want students who will become officers who are able to make split-second decisions in the line of duty. Yet, I know hundreds of kids who struggled through school with disabilities who chose the military as a career and have risen through the ranks in spite of their learning obstacles.
The argument about not having access to extra time in the work place--especially a competitive work environment--is well taken, but then I wonder how many people actually look for or stay in careers where they have to demonstrate skills they don't have? Like doing things fast.
In fact, how many adults do you know who are classified as learning disabled? Somehow at cocktail parties or on the golf course, that detail never surfaces. As adults, we learn to absorb our disabilities--some would even say we outgrow them. Or we find careers that allow us to thrive doing what we do best and not doing what we're not good at. Those labels seem to fall away. Isn't that a good thing?
I've lived in six different countries and worked with the children of many different CEOs and foreign service officers--including several ambassadors. One particular ambassador was really pleased with the way school was going for his son, and he wanted to write a letter of commendation on my behalf as his way of showing his appreciation. I was honored. English was the ambassador's first language; he was charismatic among other leaders; he was well known. Yet the letter that he hand-typed for me, was so riddled with spelling and grammar errors that I could never use it.
Of course, this was a long time ago, and now spell-check or maybe even an administrative assistant would have caught the mistakes, but my point is that here was an eminently successful man who clearly suffered with a learning disability his whole life, and somehow, in the end it didn't make much difference to him.
We rise to find positions that meet our skill sets, no matter what our testing situation is for the ACT or SAT. Is it fair? Is the system hurting some kids and helping others? Does it make a difference? I don't know. What I know is that we muddle through it, each of us doing what we can to support our kids find the best ways to present themselves in their college applications. We power forward, we look for the good that we can hold on to, and we hope for the best. And, I hope, we also continue to see how we can improve the system so that it becomes better for everyone.
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