God…
As you know, todayeth beginneth the End-Of-Gradeth testing for a great many elementary children and teachers in Winston-Salem.
I don’t care.
I do, but I don’t.
Not really.
OK, maybe a little bit. But, not a lot.
An EOG is a how-you-fared-and-what-you-remembered-and-how-accurately-you-clicked-on-the-right-button-on-a-Chromebook-while-not-using-a-mouse moment on one day of your life.
One moment.
One day.
A lifetime.
Do your best and let it rest.
A perfect score won’t guarantee happiness and contentment and corporate adoration.
A poor showing won’t condemn a child to reliance on government subsidies and a lifetime of shoulda-coulda-woulda regret.
Teachers work, every day.
Teachers teach, every day.
Teachers throw seeds, every day.
Let’s have a little perspective.
If you could…
If you would…
I know you’re busy dealing with the whole Israel and Palestine can’t get along thing.
Black folk and white folk fighting the same fight over and over and over again.
Where to send the sharks when sunburned and overweight people invade the oceans this weekend.
How to punish the No Left Turn violators in the carpool line at Vienna Elementary.
You’re busy. I get it.
But… let the children and the teachers not worry about a test.
I’m much more concerned that Sophia brush and floss each night. And morning.
I’m much more concerned that Miles says “please” and “thank you.”
I’m much more concerned that teachers are valued and appreciated.
An EOG should be a school wide celebration of the year-long work that has been Extraordinary, Outstanding and Grrrrrrrrrreat!
No worrying. Spread the word.
And, really, please do something about the sharks.
Amen.
Jeffrey Griffin 