ever answered, was why was there a white crayon? White crayons wouldn’t show up on anything, even black paper. One member of our group ate his white crayon to test the theory that it was placed in the box as a cleverly disguised snack. He would report the next day that not only was it not a snack, but it kept him in the bathroom all night with the “urgencies.” No test in the world can provide knowledge like that.

Our final concern was girls. We were too young to know why we wanted to know anything about girls, but we wondered nonetheless. At random intervals, my colleagues and I would run up and ask a girl a pre-determined question, like: Have you

On my list of favorite things to write about, education ranks about 367th, just above proctology exams. However, a recent article in my local newspaper prompted me to speak out.

Like many states, Indiana is a big believer in standardized testing to determine educational progress. ISTEP, an acronym for Indiana Statewide Testing for Educational Progress, is the yearly brain bashing that Indiana students must take part in. You will notice that this test is referred to by its acronym, because a test is not a test unless it has a catchy acronym.

In years past, ISTEP victims, or participants rather, were students in grades 7 through 10. The test itself lasts four days, eight hours each day. To make matters worse, it is one of those tests that require the taker to fill in the little number bubbles with a No. 2 pencil that must remain sharpened to a fine point. If for any reason the pencil mark gets outside of the number bubble, not only will the question be marked wrong, but the Earth will spin from its axis and Hilary Clinton will be elected president.

Because the ISTEP test was conceived by government officials, it is an incompatible mixture of math, science, English and insider stock trading. The test contains material that is not covered in school and can only be learned if the student is committed to a mental institution and is subsequently elected to Congress.

ISTEP story problems are often times worded strangely:

If a train leaves Denver traveling at 72 mph, and another train leaves Communist controlled China traveling at 46 mph, how much did Orson Welles weigh in 1946?

This year, the state legislator decided that the ISTEP test would be administered to grades 3-10. The announcement has caused quite the stir.

I am troubled by the fact that I can still remember what it was like to be in the third grade and, if you think hard, I am sure you can as well.

Grades 1-3 are not considered, by me at least, to be times of great learning. As I recall, I spent the entire third grade with only three things on my mind, the same as all the other male third graders. We were, of course, trying to figure out how far one could shove their finger up their nostril before having to be sent to the Nurse’s office. After several months of experimentation, we determined that just below the wrist was a safe distance, unless you were endowed like Meryl Streep of course, then the possibilities were endless.

Our next area of concern was crayons. As was tradition, the third grade was the year that we received the huge 64-piece box of crayons, complete with sharpener. Our question, which was never answered, was why was there a white crayon? White crayons wouldn’t show up on anything, even black paper. One member of our group ate his white crayon to test the theory that it was placed in the box as a cleverly disguised snack. He would report the next day that not only was it not a snack, but it kept him in the bathroom all night with the “urgencies.” No test in the world can provide knowledge like that.

Our final concern was girls. We were too young to know why we wanted to know anything about girls, but we wondered nonetheless. At random intervals, my colleagues and I would run up and ask a girl a pre-determined question, like: Have you e

lf lasts four days, eight hours each day. To make matters worse, it is one of those tests that require the taker to fill in the little number bubbles with a No. 2 pencil that must remain sharpened to a fine point. If for any reason the pencil mark gets outside of the number bubble, not only will the question be marked wrong, but the Earth will spin from its axis and Hilary Clinton will be elected president.

Because the ISTEP test was conceived by government officials, it is an incompatible mixture of math, science, English and insider stock trading. The test contains material that is not covered in school and can only be learned if the student is committed to a mental institution and is subsequently elected to Congress.

ISTEP story problems are often times worded strangely:

If a train leaves Denver traveling at 72 mph, and another train leaves Communist controlled China traveling at 46 mph, how much did Orson Welles weigh in 1946?

This year, the state legislator decided that the ISTEP test would be administered to grades 3-10. The announcement has caused quite the stir.

I am troubled by the fact that I can still remember what it was like to be in the third grade and, if you think hard, I am sure you can as well.

Grades 1-3 are not considered, by me at least, to be times of great learning. As I recall, I spent the entire third grade with only three things on my mind, the same as all the other male third graders. We were, of course, trying to figure out how far one could shove their finger up their nostril before having to be sent to the Nurse’s office. After several months of experimentation, we determined that just below the wrist was a safe distance, unless you were endowed like Meryl Streep of course, then the possibilities were endless.

Our next area of concern was crayons. As was tradition, the third grade was the year that we received the huge 64-piece box of crayons, complete with sharpener. Our question, which was never answered, was why was there a white crayon? White crayons wouldn’t show up on anything, even black paper. One member of our group ate his white crayon to test the theory that it was placed in the box as a cleverly disguised snack. He would report the next day that not only was it not a snack, but it kept him in the bathroom all night with the “urgencies.” No test in the world can provide knowledge like that.

Our final concern was girls. We were too young to know why we wanted to know anything about girls, but we wondered nonetheless. At random intervals, my colleagues and I would run up and ask a girl a pre-determined question, like: Have you

tted to a mental institution and is subsequently elected to Congress.

ISTEP story problems are often times worded strangely:

If a train leaves Denver traveling at 72 mph, and another train leaves Communist controlled China traveling at 46 mph, how much did Orson Welles weigh in 1946?

This year, the state legislator decided that the ISTEP test would be administered to grades 3-10. The announcement has caused quite the stir.

I am troubled by the fact that I can still remember what it was like to be in the third grade and, if you think hard, I am sure you can as well.

Grades 1-3 are not considered, by me at least, to be times of great learning. As I recall, I spent the entire third grade with only three things on my mind, the same as all the other male third graders. We were, of course, trying to figure out how far one could shove their finger up their nostril before having to be sent to the Nurse’s office. After several months of experimentation, we determined that just below the wrist was a safe distance, unless you were endowed like Meryl Streep of course, then the possibilities were endless.

Our next area of concern was crayons. As was tradition, the third grade was the year that we received the huge 64-piece box of crayons, complete with sharpener. Our question, which was never answered, was why was there a white crayon? White crayons wouldn’t show up on anything, even black paper. One member of our group ate his white crayon to test the theory that it was placed in the box as a cleverly disguised snack. He would report the next day that not only was it not a snack, but it kept him in the bathroom all night with the “urgencies.” No test in the world can provide knowledge like that.

Our final concern was girls. We were too young to know why we wanted to know anything about girls, but we wondered nonetheless. At random intervals, my colleagues and I would run up and ask a girl a pre-determined question, like: Have you

t learning. As I recall, I spent the entire third grade with only three things on my mind, the same as all the other male third graders. We were, of course, trying to figure out how far one could shove their finger up their nostril before having to be sent to the Nurse’s office. After several months of experimentation, we determined that just below the wrist was a safe distance, unless you were endowed like Meryl Streep of course, then the possibilities were endless.

Our next area of concern was crayons. As was tradition, the third grade was the year that we received the huge 64-piece box of crayons, complete with sharpener. Our question, which was never answered, was why was there a white crayon? White crayons wouldn’t show up on anything, even black paper. One member of our group ate his white crayon to test the theory that it was placed in the box as a cleverly disguised snack. He would report the next day that not only was it not a snack, but it kept him in the bathroom all night with the “urgencies.” No test in the world can provide knowledge like that.

Our final concern was girls. We were too young to know why we wanted to know anything about girls, but we wondered nonetheless. At random intervals, my colleagues and I would run up and ask a girl a pre-determined question, like: Have you

ever answered, was why was there a white crayon? White crayons wouldn’t show up on anything, even black paper. One member of our group ate his white crayon to test the theory that it was placed in the box as a cleverly disguised snack. He would report the next day that not only was it not a snack, but it kept him in the bathroom all night with the “urgencies.” No test in the world can provide knowledge like that.

Our final concern was girls. We were too young to know why we wanted to know anything about girls, but we wondered nonetheless. At random intervals, my colleagues and I would run up and ask a girl a pre-determined question, like: Have you ever eaten a crayon? We would then report back to the group with the answer. We collected answers to 4700 questions that school year, and we still were no closer to understanding girls then we are now.

I believe that the third grade mentality will eventually bring the ISTEP to its knees. After all, who cares about The Riemann Hypothesis, Newton’s Third Law or The History of Cornstarch when one has his finger in his nose for the sake of science?