Pam Allyn, Feb. 2017: Have we "medicalized reading" -- made it sound like a health emergency?
I remember, years ago, the first time I heard the phrase 'false positives.' Unsurprisingly, the context was medical. More surprisingly, it was awkwardly social as I found myself the plus-one at a a dinner sponsored by a medical imaging company. (Back when that sort of event was deemed kosher.)
Taking in the presentation along with some chocolate mousse, I reached the layman's conclusion that the spotlit imaging technology proffered both wonderful benefits and needless worry. For every legitimate problem detected, the cordial company representative warned, the equipment might flag false positives -- benign spots that looked, at first, malignant and might prompt unnecessarily invasive, costly treatments.
Now wearing my professional hat and considering digital reams of reading data for middle-school students, this notion of false positives looms again. The data are the fruits of the latest effort where I teach to screen kids (note: medical term) universally via online tools. The first broad strokes have me scratching my head about how best to prioritize next steps.
According to this one measure, sixth graders demonstrate a reading range from first through ninth grade; seventh graders from second through ninth; and eight graders from third through 10th.
My mind, untethered, spins with numbers. I feel urges to triangulate and validate. ("How much can the data be trusted?" a little voice in my head wonders.) I feel desperation to intervene, helping students progress at the low end, keeping students engaged and growing at the high end, not losing sight of students in the middle. ("Isn't this deficit mindset hurtful?" the same voice frets.)
Hundreds of snapshots of student literacy now in hand, I'm far from certain what I know even as there's no doubt I can't un-know it.