A (Not so Great) Day in the Life of a Room Mom

I walked around the room, which was unusually quiet for once, although quiet for the second day that week as the whole class had spent most of the day two days ago taking their required reading comprehension tests. I looked at the 4 kiddos in the classroom computer area, each with their headphones on, eyes glued to their math test on the laptop screens. Back at the teacher's table were two other kids, both doing their best to take their test, with their teacher looking over their shoulder, helping them in whatever little, non-interfering ways she could. 

Over at the science table were two more kiddos, using borrowed laptops from another classroom, trying to figure out how to get logged into this unfamiliar computer. After helping them add their accounts and get logged in, I walked around to the art table, housing 4 more borrowed laptops and headphones and computer mice. 2 kids were logged in and taking their math test, and the other 2 were trying to figure out how to type in their passwords with half of the number keys missing on their respective laptops. 

I looked behind me at the rows of desks where the kids usually sit to do their morning journal work and individual work, and found 4 more kids diligently working on their math tests too, one trying to adjust the headphones so they fit over her ears, one struggling to move the mouse to get where he wanted it, and the other two with intense stares at their laptop screens (also borrowed from another classroom). Fortunately, the Special Education inclusion teacher was still here for another 30 minutes, so he could help them. I made my way over to the writing table to check on the little boy sitting there, using the classroom laptop that sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t, frustrated because he couldn’t read well enough to understand the math questions on his screen. All I could tell him was to read the best he could and to try to choose the best answer. My heart broke for him and his frustration. 

The final three kids in the room were sitting on the large, colorful rug in the middle of the room, playing with a reading game from the reading center, waiting for their turn to take their test and hoping it wouldn’t run too long into recess time. I made my way over to remind them yet again to try to use their "whisper voices" since their friends and classmates were all taking a test right now and it was super important for their friends to be able to hear the computers. I also reminded them that they’d have their turn testing and that they’d probably like for their friends to be quiet for them, too. I felt bad for them, since we couldn’t get into the one computer lab in the building, as it was booked for other classes. Our lab time was later this afternoon, but we had to get them started now, since it would likely take hours to get all of the tests done and we didn’t want them to rush through it.  Fortunately for us, another grade was on their field trip today, so their teachers were okay with us borrowing their laptops to start our testing. Of course, not all of their classroom laptops were charged or had headphones and the computer mice that the kindergarteners were accustomed to, or were like their classroom laptops and missing keys, but we had to take what we could get. The tests had to get done, and they had to get done TODAY. 

This was the second test of the day for these 5 & 6 year olds. Since it was nearing the end of the school year, their teacher had to administer a quick, 10-question spelling test that morning during their morning writing time. Fortunately, we had enough desk dividers so that almost all of them could take their test at their familiar desks, and it didn’t take as long as we had thought. 

I looked at my watch. Most of the kids had been testing for over 40 minutes now, and I could see their backs starting to slouch and their feet and legs starting to get fidgety. Some of them, the first ones to get logged on and logged in, were approaching an hour in on their testing. I was hearing more and more sighs and yawns by the minute. When I walked around to check on how much progress they were making, the little bar at the bottom of the screens said anywhere from 18% done to about 70%. I watched a little 6 year old read a question on her computer screen and frown. Fractions? I didn’t wait to see if she answered the question right, but kept on walking around the table to make sure the kiddos were staying on task and making progress. I saw one little guy hardly even looking at his computer screen for a second or two, and then just randomly picking an answer and moving on. I sat back down for a few minutes and continued cutting out the sight word cards to put in the writing workshop folders I had finished putting together for all of the kiddos a couple weeks prior, all while keeping an eye on the testing screens. 

After checking on a couple more kids, I made eye contact with the kindergarten teacher and held up 4 fingers, and then 8 fingers, signalling that this particular student was 48% done. She sighed and then held up 5 fingers, meaning that we would give them 5 more minutes before taking a break. 

5 minutes later, we made our way around the classroom, gently telling each child they could finish the question they were on, and then log out of their computer and sit on the classroom carpet. All 20 of these young kids looked tired and drained, even the ones who hadn’t even gotten their turn on a computer yet. 

Mrs. K had everyone stand up and stretch "up to the ceiling", then touch their toes. Then, she led them all in a rousing round of “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” to try to get some of their wiggles out. It was 9:50 am, so we still had 10 minutes until morning recess followed by lunch, so she gave them those 10 minutes to have free time! 

A lot of them chose to draw or do things at the art table, which I had just cleared the laptops off of. I pulled out an extra couple boxes of crayons and tubs of play-doh to accommodate the extra kids over here, and watched them get settled for a minute before making sure everyone else was doing something productive. The kindergarten teacher was pulling aside a few kiddos to check to see if they had some pages from their Space, Cowboy, or Ocean units hidden in their folders or backpacks somewhere so she or I could put them together for their student portfolios that go home at the end of the year. A few other kids were playing in the play kitchen or with the building blocks, and the one kid who was always reading was settled in at his desk reading the latest “Captain Underpants” book. That made me smile. I'd have to remember to ask him about it later. 

Finally, it was time to line up for recess, so once the class got the room cleaned up and put back into some semblance of order, we met up with the other two kindergarten classes and sent them out for recess and then to lunch (yes, lunch at 10:30). 

Mrs. K and I went back into the classroom and sat down at her work table. She thanked me for coming in an extra day this week and then double checked that she had the booked the computer lab for after lunch. While she got her desk back in order, I got to work rounding up all of the extra laptops, headphones, computer mice, and cables to take back to the classrooms they belonged. 6 laptops were from Mrs. A’s room, all of the extra mice came from Mr. G’s class, 2 laptops and headphones were from Ms. L’s class, and the remaining headphones came from the class across the hall. Once I got everything returned, plugged back in, and set up how we found it, I went back to talk to the teacher about what was on the front of both of our minds… 

The week before, the school had announced to the teachers that they’d be eliminating the elementary art teacher position and moving her to a dyslexia specialist position for the primary grades. There had been no discussion or conferences or anything, just a meeting where this was relayed to the teachers. Nothing was told to the parents and community either, so as a concerned parent, I had relayed the information to as many other parents as I could. Then, an elementary assistant principal job was advertised on the school website a few days after this meeting. 

We spent a good 15 minutes of the kid’s lunch time discussing this situation, how nobody was consulted or informed about this, and how for a school of only a few hundred students and a well-staffed support system, an assistant principal position really isn’t necessary, especially at the expense of the art teacher. Sure, the school would still supply art materials to the individual classrooms, but now each teacher would have to meet all of the state requirements of art education in their individual classrooms and HOW they would even be able to make this happen??? Even at the kindergarten level, almost all of their required curriculum is preparing them for their testing, and the teachers don’t get a lot of time to expand on topics or even cover things beyond the state requirements, especially in subjects such as social studies, science, etc. 

Suddenly, it was time to get the kids from lunch and go to the computer lab. I stayed in the classroom to make sure no kiddos came down here instead, and 3 of them did somehow. I walked them all the way down the hall into the little computer lab and found all the rest of the class already resuming their tests, except for the little girl who had lost her tooth at recess and therefore missed lunch, sitting in the nurse’s office. She was now finishing her lunch. 

The teacher had to run back to the classroom so she could restart a couple of the kids’ math tests because they had rushed through it so fast, there was no way they could have actually tried to take it. The other inclusion teacher sat next to the two kids who needed the most help while I wandered around the room, making sure everyone was in the right place. I glanced at a few questions here and there and wondered when they had started teaching things like regrouping and basic algebra in kindergarten. 

Eventually, the kids started finishing their tests, so after giving each one a huge high five and/or a handshake when they finished, I passed along instructions from Mrs. K to keep working on their other computer lessons in eiher reading or math (their choice). Even though they had just spent a couple hours taking a test, there was still a required amount of time each student had to spend on their math and reading lessons on the computer each week, using the program the school had purchased for their education. 

Once our lab time was up, I took the kids who had finished (about two thirds of the class at this point) back to their classroom and had them all sit on the carpet for me. I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do next, so I just had us all sing some of the color songs and days of the week songs for a few minutes until Mrs. K came back. 

Once she arrived, all of the kids needed to work on the rest of their math worksheets they had started earlier in the week, or if they were finished with those (a couple of them were), they could sit at their desks and do independent work. Everyone (well, almost everyone) got to work, and the two who were already caught up on math work sat at their desks and read a book (including the cute kid who already, as a kindergartener, always has a book with him). There were a handful of kids who refused to do any more work (not that I really wanted to blame them after the morning they’d had), so I left those decisions to the teacher and sat down at the art table with 3 kids who were having trouble with some of their math worksheets. Mrs. K decided to take those extra tired kiddos with her back to the computer lab. 

The remaining kids who finished their tests in the computer lab started trickling back in the classroom, as did Mrs. K, so we went right back to business as usual since this time during the day is math time. We only had about 15 minutes until afternoon recess, so they just did their independent work until then. 

Once the class lined up for recess and went outside with the other classes, I helped straighten the classroom again.

I felt bewildered. Had this day just happened? Did 5 and 6 year olds really spend over half of their school day taking TESTS? I made my way outside to join the other teachers at recess. The kids were rowdier than usual (not that I blamed them), and tempers ran high among the kindergarteners. The amount of drama among this group was already a crazy level, but today, it was even worse. Some of the kids were just MEAN to each other, but the teachers (and I) were reluctant to put anyone in a time out since they all REALLY needed to run around and have a chance to be a little kid again. 

Usually, the teachers try to squeeze in a social sciences or science lesson before going off to fine arts or PE, but today, they were allowed to play for that extra 25 minutes. No one was going to be able to get these kids to pay attention for yet more instruction today, and who could blame them? By the time we got them inside and settled down, there’d be no time left to go through the curriculum and worksheet anyway. They didn't get to these lessons every day anyway since they often had to finish their reading or math from the morning. Those teachers are run ragged with all they have to do, and you know, if something has to give, a social sciences worksheet is better to leave for later than math or reading instruction in my opinion. 

Finally it was time for fine arts. One of the classes went to PE, one went to music, and one went to art every day (and rotated through them). This was a welcome relief to everyone, but especially the kids. For a lot of them, this hour of the day made it all come together. This is where they were able to put all of that instruction and learning into action…. Not on a computer screen answering question after question about reading comprehension or numerical reasoning… but in a classroom, experiencing melody and harmony or watercolors and color balance. 

Mrs. K and I dropped off her class to music and then went back to her classroom to discuss more about the recent development about the school deciding to cut the art teacher position. It was sprung on the teachers at their last staff meeting, and the teachers were not happy about it. I was happy to give my input as a parent of two young kids who were just beginning their journey in public education. I thought it was an atrocity, especially given the day we had just had. Why are they taking away one of the few creative outlets these young kids have during the day? Why were they removing one of the few subjects that gives these students self-expression and self-worth and the little sense of control they have while forced to sit down, shut up, be still, and learn for over 7 hours every day? It didn't make sense to me. 

It seemed we had a long, uphill battle in front of us, and likely one we wouldn’t win anyway. It seemed that the principal’s mind (and the superintendent’s, too) was made up, but I needed to look into it further, which was so hard because they weren't saying anything to anyone about it. I also didn’t want to get any of the other teachers in trouble or worse, threaten their jobs, because they were some of the few who actually care what my kid, as well as his classmates, learn and do during the day. However, SOMETHING needed to be done, and it may as well have been me who did it. Practically everyone knows me in the school, and I’m also well-known in the community. It was time to spill some tea and start fighting for my kids’ quality of education, no matter what. After all, no one is going to fight for my kids’ rights and needs except for me. 

This was just the beginning… 

(Please note... this is BASED on a true story, (names and identities have been changed) and while I do take issue with some things going on, I do support our school district and public education in general. My kids attend a good school and have amazing teachers and a good principal. My issue stems at a higher level than the school. And again, no one will fight for my kids except me. 

All I'm saying is maybe we need to be making our kids take fewer tests and exams and give them more creative outlets and fine arts education. After all, aren't our kids the future?)