Larry Walker24 said:And you actually think it's normal for SAT English scores to be better than the scores on the literature exams?!
The thing is—and this is kind of depressing—grades end up looking pretty much the same across all subjects because they use a bell curve distribution. They just decide what percentage of correct answers qualifies for an A or a B, and that's it. It feels a little hollow if you ask me.
Another issue—and I hear this from teachers all the time—is that these standardized state exams basically train kids to only care about what’s on the test. My colleagues tell me that whenever they try to branch out with a cool topic or dive deeper into something actually relevant to a student's life, the first thing they get asked is, "Is this going to be on the exam?" If the answer is no, they just check out. They're physically there, but mentally, they've already left the room.
Thirdly, who’s actually against having smaller entrance exams for high school? Usually, it’s the psychologists and educators—they call them "high-stakes testing" and claim it’s "too much stress for the kids" and all that. But look, we had external evaluations started about ten years ago before they were scrapped. Supposedly, it was because those tests clearly showed the massive gap in results based on how much money a family had or how much a specific school district invested in its facilities. Nobody really wanted that kind of inequality being dragged into the light, I guess...
Richard Perez3 said:But check out these crazy ideas coming out of Paris—they think giving lower grades punishes you, when really, it just reflects how much you don't know. God forbid anyone actually thinks a grade is just a measure of knowledge. Oh, you don't want your ignorance graded? Please. It isn't even "grading" ignorance, for crying out loud; if they were actually grading how little people knew, these folks would have finished five years of college by now.
🤣 😂 🤣 😂 queen!
It’s kind of like that old argument—you know, the idea that when you test someone, you shouldn't be looking for what they lack, but rather focusing on what they actually know. I mean, honestly, how am I supposed to zero in on that tiny 10% they actually grasp without accidentally tripping over the 90% they don't? (And in some cases, the gap is even more ridiculous than that)
So, I spent seven years teaching foreign languages at the elementary level, and honestly, I used to complain all the time about how I shouldn't even be handing out grades until third grade—and my reasoning was pretty much identical to what’s being said here. I mean, look, by the end of the school year, about 90% of my kids would have mastered those 200 core words and 25 basic phrases. The only outliers were kids who needed special education services or, you know, children dealing with serious neglect at home. So, does it really matter if little Johnny masters everything required by the curriculum in January, April, or May? When I do grade, I’m measuring exactly that—just the speed at which a child picks up the material. It’s a similar story in English Language Arts and Math, from what I’ve observed—because in those first two grades, you're just focusing on fundamental life skills: reading, writing, the four basic math operations... things every student should have down by the end of second grade. (Though, forcing kids through the system when they *haven't* actually mastered those basics? Well, that's a whole different conversation entirely.) It isn't until third grade that you see a real split in ability, where some kids start pulling ahead and others fall behind, making the mastery of knowledge more uneven. That's when my grades actually become worth their weight in gold—they serve as quick feedback for everyone involved, showing us exactly where each student stands.
So, here’s the deal—specifically regarding math—the proposed curriculum actually leans into a step-by-step approach. Instead of, say, grabbing fractions and then just cramming every single related concept into a kid's head within a single month—and then acting totally surprised when maybe three students actually manage to keep up—it's more gradual. Like, in third grade, you focus on the actual concept of a fraction: halves, quarters, eighths... using things like a pizza or a Hershey bar as examples. Then in fourth grade, you move on to writing those fractions down. In fifth, you're using Lego bricks to add fractions with like denominators (like 1/4 + 1/4 = 2/4), and by sixth grade, you're looking for common denominators and tackling addition and subtraction. That way, they actually get a full year to let it sink in through practical problems. I’m definitely no mathematician, but based on what I remember from my own school days, what I hear from my math teacher friends, and even just chatting with parents, I’ve gathered that the biggest issue with math in our American school system—aside from those "cramming" students who try to swallow everything at once, much like how people try to tackle history, geography, or science—is this total lack of progression. We grab one topic and suddenly students are expected to master every single sub-topic ever conceived in a tiny window of time. It honestly baffles me why they don't just introduce trigonometric formulas alongside angle measurements in the same grade ☕ and allow for that steady buildup of concepts—breaking meaningful units down into smaller, digestible pieces. For instance, why does someone have to learn the perimeter and the area of triangles, squares, rectangles, and everything else all at once? Couldn't that be split up? Just giving them enough time to really grasp it would solve so many issues for so many kids.
The whole issue with the Swiss Franc was that banks would only offer it through all sorts of ridiculous excuses. It was like, oh, because of your salary bracket, or your eye color, or even your shoe size... you could get a loan in Francs, take it or leave it. My husband actually had an auto loan in Swiss Francs. Why? Because he wasn't even given the option of any other currency. (Thank goodness he paid it off before the absolute clusterfuck of the financial crisis hit—man, what a ride.) Back then, who would have ever guessed that the Franc, which was basically the gold standard for stability, would start acting so erratic?
And where on earth do you get the idea that teachers aren't going to push back against this notion of parents meddling in everything? You know, the idea that they should decide which parts of the school curriculum align with their specific "upbringing values." It’s just funny because, honestly, nobody actually listens to us anyway when it comes to state education laws and district regulations.
I mean, parents could easily influence what their kids hear from the school nurse—like, they could just take them for their own checkups. But it’s much easier to dump that responsibility onto the school, or specifically the homeroom teacher, who ends up sitting in a waiting room until 7 PM after the final bell just to keep tabs on their students. (At this rate, I'm just waiting for someone to decide we should be responsible for hand-delivering dinner to their houses, too...)
And we’re off to Tunguzia. When I say "Tunguzia"—which is really just a little verbal tic I picked up from my late grandma—people usually lose it. She used to use it as a catch-all whenever she didn't want to specify where she was going, or where something happened, or when the location was just totally irrelevant. She’d just say, "Oh, I'm headed to Tunguzia," and that was that. Most people I tell this to think I'm making it up on the spot—they actually think I'm just using some weird slang for... well, you know.
Anyway, to jump back to that point people always bring up in these kinds of debates: no, I don't think it's life-or-death for a carpenter to know where Turkmenistan is, or Tunguzia, or even Prague. For them, what matters way more is knowing their wood and how to work with it. It’s the same for a doctor—they don't need to memorize those random spots either... but... BUT! Learning things like that during elementary and high school, and connecting all those dots and learning how to draw conclusions, is basically a workout for your brain. It builds memory, logic, reasoning skills... which is incredibly vital for students who will eventually have to, say, memorize every single bone and muscle in the human body and understand how they all interact. Honestly, it wouldn't hurt an architect, a lawyer, or a mechanical engineer if they gave their brains a workout by processing that kind of information while they're still in school.
Or, honestly—better yet—when you actually say "Turkmenistan," people are going to burst out laughing because they'll think it’s some totally made-up place you just cooked up on the spot.
So, I was just scrolling through this teacher forum, and some colleagues who teach at a local high school were venting about how students—supposedly top-tier honors kids, like they have a 4.0 GPA or better—have absolutely no clue about basic history or geography. They’re talking about kids who have never even heard of Warsaw, or couldn't tell you which country Prague is in, stuff like that. And the scary part isn't just that it happened once; it’s that it’s becoming the norm. Back when I was in high school about twenty years ago, I remember one girl in my class who couldn't find Australia on a map, but she was one in twenty, you know? Not half the class. Now, apparently, it's most of them. Am I being too dramatic if I consider this kind of stuff part of general knowledge? I mean, sure, you don't need to know it to survive, but shouldn't a student aiming for college—which is basically why you go to a prep school in the first place—have this baseline just to be well-rounded? I feel like we're way too small of a country to act like... well, like some people in the States sometimes do, where the attitude is basically, "If it isn't happening in my own backyard, I don't care."
Larry Walker24 said:From what I can tell, going to Mass isn't some mandatory requirement, and there's no way it should be used as a metric for school grades.
Well, whether you believe it or not, or whether you know the truth or not... look, I'm just repeating what my cousin actually went through about ten or fifteen years ago.
Susan James said:A lot of parents aren't actually aware of this and nobody really tells them—not during enrollment, and not even when they ask the teacher how to withdraw their child.
Also, just a heads-up: the request definitely needs to be in writing. I've seen cases where they require signatures from both parents, and I know some schools used to insist on a reason. If it wasn't written down, the religion teacher would often step in to chat and see if there was an issue they could actually fix.🕺
Yeah, a written request—ideally filed through the front office. That actually saves my skin sometimes, because let's be real, some parents are just too lazy to deal with the paperwork, so it's easier for them to just leave the kids in the elective 😉 ) As for asking why... that doesn't surprise me one bit. I find myself doing the exact same thing when my own kids (especially the ones I wouldn't expect it from—they were doing fine and weren't even acting unhappy) want to drop out of their Spanish class. I ask why, if there's anything I can do to change their minds, or if we can find some middle ground... I never once thought anyone would view that as being pushy.
Sam Kim12 said:Yes—those are certainly some of the more fascinating quirks within our education system.🙂 It’s absolutely maddening—honestly, it’s a complete bureaucratic circus. Every single year, you’re forced to jump through hoops just to re-register for your second language elective, like they’ve somehow forgotten who you are over the summer break. It’s an exhausting, repetitive loop of paperwork that serves no purpose other than to waste everyone's time. But then—and this is where the real absurdity kicks in—you look at how they handle religion classes. You sign up once, and suddenly it’s hardcoded into your schedule forever. It becomes this automatic, permanent fixture in your curriculum for every subsequent grade. There’s no easy way out; if you decide you aren't interested anymore, you have to go through the whole ordeal of formally requesting a withdrawal at the end of the school year. It’s a total lack of logic—one thing requires constant, annoying upkeep, while the other is practically impossible to shake off without a fight. It’s enough to make anyone lose their mind.🍿
It all boils down to one inescapable reality—the Catholic lobby has successfully embedded itself into the political machine, and their influence is nothing short of overwhelming. For us mere mortals just trying to navigate daily life, there isn't much we can do about it—it’s a frustratingly rigged game, unfortunately.
I went head-to-head with the religious education teacher back when my kid was in second grade—she actually had the audacity to tell me she couldn't just "remove" a student from the class. So, I did my homework—did some digging into the district policies—and discovered that there is a perfectly valid option for opting out: non-graded status. Essentially, the child doesn't attend the sessions, completes the rest of the school year normally, and simply receives no grade for that specific subject. Once I laid out the facts, the teacher cooled her heels regarding her little power trip—and frankly, the entire class breathed a massive sigh of relief. I am certainly not an opponent of religious studies in general—there are plenty of beautiful, profound things one can learn from them—but the actual methodology employed by certain believers is nothing short of appalling.
We actually dealt with a situation where they were handing out seals after every Mass—it was part of some rigid ritualistic nonsense preceding St. Price and charisma. You see, so many kids would head out of town to other parts of the US on the weekends, making it impossible for them to attend Mass at our home parish, yet the priest—stubborn as ever—refused to accept any confirmation from a different local church. It triggered a full-blown revolt. We’re talking organized petitions, heated confrontations, and even trips to Capitol Hill to demand a meeting—all of which eventually forced them to scrap the whole seal business and, more broadly, stop making Mass attendance a strict prerequisite for receiving the sacraments😁.
Yeah, my cousin dealt with a total piece of work for a priest (typo: I first wrote priest, but honestly, that description fits this guy perfectly 😂), and she actually had to bring in a doctor's note if she missed Sunday Mass because she was sick. Because of his ridiculous rules, her family couldn't even attend a funeral Mass for her own cousin—meaning her mom had to miss her own nephew's service just because you were required to show up at your specific parish. And not just any service, either; it had to be the exact one he designated, not the one two towns over, or even the afternoon or evening ones. To make matters worse, he was working hand-in-hand with the religious ed teacher, who would give a failing grade for commitment in the yearbook if you missed three Masses. (Btw, the girl didn't just drop religion class at the last minute, she's not even Catholic anymore—she switched to Adventists, Evangelicals, or something like that...)
You can actually just file the paperwork without giving some deep, dramatic reason—just saying they aren't interested in taking religious studies anymore works perfectly fine—as long as you get that request in by August 15th. Some schools might be cool enough to let you opt out even after that date if there’s a scheduling conflict—because, let's be honest, how are you supposed to know on August 14th that German class is going to clash with music when the schedule doesn't even drop until September 4th? And then, of course, the whole thing usually shifts around two or three more times before mid-September anyway. But, strictly speaking, legally they have every right to turn down any request that rolls in after the 15th.
If you can swing the extra cost for a language school, go for it. 🤷 But let’s be real—not everyone has that kind of breathing room in their budget. Regarding dropping classes once the schedule drops, there's actually a logic to it. If your German class or Computer Science elective clashes with football or band practice, that’s a totally valid reason to switch things up. But saying, "Oh, Theology is my first period, so I'd rather sleep in"—no, that just doesn't fly. You aren't getting an out for German or Comp Sci just because it's your last period and you want to get home earlier, or because you found out over Labor Day weekend that two of your buddies dropped out. (By the way, personally, if there's a conflict with music or sports, I try to be a little more flexible 😉 — I mean, kids shouldn't be penalized just because the system is a mess.)
We had our teacher for the first period, then it was just the two of us—or maybe the two of us followed by some extra tutoring during fifth period, or even an ExxonMobil seminar, since teachers aren't allowed to be stuck without a class all day long.
So, there was this one year where I ended up rushing into the classroom at the exact same moment as the religion teacher—it was such a mess. We both had the same period blocked off just to help with the scheduling, so yeah... it was pretty chaotic.
Oh, man, those study halls can be absolute killers depending on how much the hourly proctor decides they dislike you and then you’ve got the homeroom periods—if you get lucky enough to have a block of language classes followed by religion, you're looking at a three-hour gap. Or if music class gets shoved into fourth period and everything just starts spiraling...
So, look—if you’re working at a two-way school, you don't necessarily have a dedicated specialist on staff during your specific shift. And if it's one of those smaller schools, they might just share a counselor or a specialist with another campus, so that person isn't even there every day. That's the first thing. Plus, when you get an unqualified sub, you end up having to play catch-up later. But once a certified teacher steps in to cover for you, they actually handle the stuff you were supposed to be doing. The rule of thumb, though, is that unless there's some special arrangement made, gaps in a teacher's schedule shouldn't really exceed two periods, twice a week. Anything beyond that feels like something straight out of a movie like "Whiplash."
Japan is kind of the same way—I was reading about it the other day—they have such a heartbreakingly high rate of suicide, especially among students attempting it. Yeah, let's all follow their lead, shall we?