Dear Son,
You are eight years old, soon to be nine, and tomorrow you go to school to take the first of what will unfortunately be many, many, many state level high stakes tests that too many people believe say everything about not just you and your mental acuity but everything about your teacher, your school, and your community. Sadly, this couldn't be further from the truth as these things are just tests. They are a single snapshot from a single perspective of how well you seem to grasp some academic concepts: reading, math, science, a sense of history. As such, I would never tell you not to care about them, just as I would never tell you to not care about school. Learning and education are the single most important thing in your life right now and should be for a good long while.
Yet the world around you has chosen to blow the importance of these tests so far beyond normal that now we must add artificial weight to them. And because I do not possess the tools to change that, I am sorry. I am sorry that as you went to bed tonight the only thing you wanted to talk about was how many questions might be on the test. Because, you see, I care what the test asks about because that's the nature of learning and growing. Will it ask you questions about ancient Egypt or modern China? Those are wonderful and important things to know. Know your world; know math; know the planets and ask about gravity. In fact, let's learn about gravity together because, damn, it still confuses the hell out of me.
But it kills my soul when we talk about whether the multiple choice questions will be in this format or that for that is truly irrelevant information to the cosmos. So don't get me wrong: I hope you do well this week. I hope you walk into all 6 days of this test (Monday through Monday) and find it easier than you expected. I hope each afternoon you look over at me when I get home and ask, "What's the big deal about these things anyway?" And I hope if you do hit a snag, a question that seems really obtuse, that you stop, take your time, think it through and answer it to the best of your ability.
I hope you do well not because I want to see perfect scores.
Not because I want to compare you to others.
Not because I think it says something about you or your teachers.
See, I want you do to well so you can grow up and end these things for your children. Survive this hideous hydra-like beast so that when you are done and out and grown... you can slay it once and for all.
Dad
