"No Child Left Behind"

Even though a political issue is brought up on this entry, along with a bit of religion, please do not engage in either debates of politics or religion. Take that somewhere else please, not here. I don't recommend reading this entry via a small resolution screen phone.

While running the sound board for the church Sunday morning, I was listening to the sermon the pastor spoke. Mainly, it was about the "No Child Left Behind" law. I have the sermon he spoke at church--he types it and prints it out, has it ready on the podium to read to the members of the church when it's time. The sermon is four pages long (average length of at least 30 minutes), but I'll only transcript out the first two pages, as the rest is not needed for this entry. (If you want to know the rest of the sermon, I'll make a separate entry for it or e-mail it if I know you.)

Grace and Peace to you this day in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Marian Wright Edelman is the president of the Children's Defense Fund, and organization she founded nearly forty years ago. The children's Defense Fund is the sponsoring organization of the now annual observation of the Children's Sabbaths. Each year, Ms. Edelman personally addresses the theme that guides the shape of the Children's Sabbath observance. This year, in addressing the state of elementary and secondary education in our country, she offers a fairly candid assessment of the federal law that has come to be known as "No Child Left Behind."

Ms. Edelman notes that when this law was passed in 2002, there was a great hope for the good it might achieve. It aimed at measuring the progress of every child, in every school, in every year. Data would be broken down to identify racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic achievement gaps. Every child was to be held to high standards and supported. "Surely," she says we thought then, "no child would be left behind."

But in these past ten years, the promise of No Child Left Behind has become what she calls "a rhetorical fig leaf covering up new ways for our nation's schools to leave millions of children behind." The law's narrow focus on testing and it's over-reliance on sanctions that punish struggling schools encouraged states to lower standards and narrow curriculums. It has led schools to push at-risk children out of school by suspending or expelling them prior to test day, and for teachers to simply "teach the test." No Child Left Behind has become what she terms "A law of unintended consequences." It has done the very thing it was intended not to do. Under this law, she says, "most children have been left behind."

In her address, Ms. Edelman draws out attention to some rather disturbing statistical information. In comparing students in the United Stats to those of other countries, we, who once led the world in academic achievement, now are performing in the "average" to "below average" range. In grades four, eight, and twelve in our country, more than 60% of students are unable to perform at grade level. More than 25% of all high school students drop out or do not graduate on time. For minority students the percentages are far worse: 80% are not performing at grade level, and more than 40% drop out or do not graduate on time. A professor at Standford University predicts that, in the coming new year, America will have 7 million jobs in skilled and technical fields that cannot be filled by American workers because they have not been adequately educated for them.

Marian Wright Edelman is calling upon the current session of Congress to reauthorize the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, but to do so in a way that rectifies the "unintended consequences" of No Child Left Behind. We need to replace disabling sanctions with incentives for improved student learning. We need to make special provisions for our most vulnerable children: those in poverty, those who are at risk of dropping out or being pushed out. She is calling upon Congress to reframe this law into one that truly gives every child an even start with a good education as a foundation. And she is asking people in communities of faith such as ours [First Lutheran Church] to join her in urging our representatives in Congress to get it down.

He always starts out his sermons with that first line. At times I listen to the sermons, at times I don't. It depends if the sermons reach out to me or not; that's just the kind of guy I am.

The third paragraph is what really grabbed me, the other two did grab me but not much, but what was said in the third paragraph is what really hit me hard. Even though I wasn't behind in grades--didn't get held back a year--I was a bit slow on the education because of my learning disability--something about unable to process my explanations to an answer in words as I would figure them out in my head. I believe the main of that issue is lack of connection with another student or teacher as I had no idea of how to explain it to them without confusing them or getting asked too many questions on every single detail that I used to get the answer, it would just drive me nuts.

Looking in the past 10 years of my life, omitting the years of college (one and a half year now), I was feeling a bit behind than everyone else. While my grades did show I was doing well and passing... I couldn't really remember anything off the top of my head unless something triggered it, like a comparison or in relation.

After the sermon, and the hymn of the day, there was a few prays that the congregation would reply "Lord, bless the children." after the pastor, or the liturgical assistant (can't remember which one read them), would read each section of the "Prayers of Intercession". The congregation would only say that for just this service though, as it was titled "National Observance of Children's Sabbath." Anyway, one section really hit me hard, it read...

"For all children--the smallest baby learning to recognize his or her father's voice, the preschooler stooping to examine a bug, the kindergartner learning to manage milk money, the middle school student wrestling with the challenges of school and peer groups, and the high school students whose gazes are drawn toward the future that for some looks bright and others looks dim--that every child know the love of you, of family and friends, of congregation and community as we help them to learn and succeed, we pray to the Lord."

What I have underlined is what personally hit me hard. I was overcome with stress of academics and friends that I wasn't able to do both. It was either one or the other... and I really wanted out of that district so badly. I thought I had a bright future as well... but after high school I had nothing planned, nothing else to do. No one to even plan with of what to do after high school. Still don't have a plan to this day, a plan of my own. The people I knew in high school have moved on, and were prepared. As for me... either I wasn't prepared or refused to be prepare in what I thought it was something else I kept avoiding to stop getting hurt. It could be both... but maybe it's most likely the second one.

Another thing that grabbed me was what the congregation would read out loud, together, after a silence of reflection and self-examination. This is just part of a paragraph of it...

"...We shrug our shoulders and say that poverty is inevitable even as it deprives children of the fullness of life that you intend and they deserve. We throw up our hands at the number of children who are not being well educated and accept what is unacceptable. We shake our heads over the bursting prisons but turn away from the things that push children toward prison rather than keeping them on the path to success."

This one also grabbed me... in what way I'm not really sure myself. Something I should feel lucky about? Something that I should be concern about? Something that I should do about? It's really a mix signal and can't narrow it down to one... or maybe it's none?

Now that I think about it... maybe this grudge I have against the school district is just a childish reason to hate it. I did choose my way of life... and it only caused those pains to me. Maybe I was only hurting myself because of getting hurt by others. I kept judging people left and right, giving them only a small chance for a connection. Maybe that's partially true.

I still have a lot to learn from those years... however I don't know if I'm progressing or failing. I can't put those haunting pasts it to rest... no matter how hard I try to shove it away, it'll keep coming back. Maybe instead of shoving it and running away from them... I need to face them and somehow learn from them. Not very sure how right now... or where to start.