The College Board's New
Essay Reverses Decades of Progress Toward Literacy
By DENNIS BARON
Those of us who took the SAT
remember what we got on that test, even if we took it long ago. On the other
hand, few of us recall our high-school GPA, and the permanent record that was
supposed to follow us forever has vanished without a trace. But the score that
propelled us into the college of our choice, or kept us out, stays with us,
surfacing at cocktail parties or when our children or our students ask,
"Whadja get?" as they begin to worry about the SAT's ability to open
the doors of the college of their choice.
The SAT hasn't changed
dramatically since I took it 45 years ago (my scores are none of your
business), but now and then it has been overhauled, at least on the surface. On
March 12 some 330,000 American high-school students took the newly revised SAT,
expanded to include a writing sample. Exit polls report the following responses
to the latest version of America's high-stakes college-entrance exam:
1.
The College Board found strong student enthusiasm for the
test, with few complaints from parents.
2.
In contrast, Stanley Kaplan saw widespread discontent over the
SAT's increased length and difficulty, with the essay proving particularly
worrisome.
3. FairTest, a longtime test watcher, charged that the new SAT is little more than the old test grown a size larger so that the multimillion-dollar nonprofit College Board, which owns the test, can raise prices, exploit proctors and graders, and increase the salaries and bonuses paid to its executives.
It doesn't take a
psychometrician -- that's a vocabulary word you won't find on the SAT; it
means "someone who cooks up standardized tests" -- to tell you
that comments like those correlate very highly with the interests of the
speakers who make them, proving that in testing, as in crime, we can get the
right answer by asking cui bono?
-- literally "who benefits?" but loosely rendered into the
English of late capitalism as "follow the money."
The College Board benefits from
changing its test to keep up with changing educational times, while plugging in
to the national testing frenzy to protect its market share. In addition, the
Kaplans and the Princeton Reviews and the rest of the test-prep industry scare
test takers into cram courses on essay writing, raising the companies' bottom
line while they help students raise their scores. And critics who argue that
the SAT assesses neither knowledge nor potential, that it reinforces social
stratification instead of creating avenues for mobility, benefit from catching
the brief media flurry surrounding the rollout of a new test, even though those
critics must also acknowledge that testing has such a stranglehold on the
American consciousness that no one really cares whether their objections are
valid.
The comments of those most
directly involved in education, teachers and students, are also predictable.
Teachers seldom agree about curriculum, and those interviewed about the new SAT
seem evenly divided for or against the essay. It either does or does not give
students an opportunity to think critically and write the kind of impromptu,
timed theme on a surprise topic that the College Board seems to think they will
encounter regularly in college and later on in their careers.
And students, whose lot is ever
to complain, gripe that the test is too long, the breaks too short, and there
isn't enough time to finish. Some test takers liked the essay, others didn't.
Many weren't used to writing by hand, and most agreed that the general nature
of the topic -- on March 12 students on the East Coast had to discuss
majority rule, while students in the West dealt with the role of creativity in
the modern world -- together with the time constraint of 25 minutes for
planning and execution all but guaranteed a response that was both formulaic
and unreflective.
Because I write and teach about
writing, I have my own concerns about the SAT essay test. It makes up only 30
percent of the new and "improved" writing section -- that
section is worth 800 of the new SAT's total score of 2400 points -- and is
nothing more than the old, optional SAT II writing test repackaged as a
mandatory part of the SAT I. Furthermore, more than two-thirds of a student's
"writing" score comes not from writing prose but from identifying
sentence and paragraph errors by way of multiple-choice questions. That method
is no different from the SAT's earlier attempts to gauge writing knowledge
indirectly.
The students are right that responses
to general essay prompts in the new test are almost certain to be formulaic,
and that those essays that don't fit the five-paragraph mold are likely to be
rated down by graders looking for an easy peg to hang a score on. SAT
test-preparation guides, whether online or in print, stress the importance of a
simple four- or five-paragraph structure. They encourage students to begin with
a catchy opener; to demonstrate their literacy by offering supporting examples
from literature, not pop culture or personal experience; and to dazzle graders
by throwing in a few obscure vocabulary words.
Such advice is
counterproductive, since (1) formulas like the five-paragraph essay, while
common enough "in vitro," in school, and on standardized tests,
rarely occur "in vivo," in the more natural world of personal and
on-the-job writing; (2) literary examples may demonstrate that the writer is
also a reader, but they may not always be the best examples to support an
argument; and (3) the average student can't deploy sesquipedalian words
appropriately.
To be fair, the College Board
insists that the essay assessment won't be formula driven, and one essay-test
developer claims that, despite the explicit instruction to write a persuasive
essay, students could earn high scores with a story or a poem. Maybe so. After
all, a student who skips the essay entirely but fills in enough correct bubbles
with a No. 2 pencil to get a perfect score on the grammar and usage questions
can still come away with a respectable 650 points out of a possible 800 on the
"writing" section.
However, few students will dare
to blow off the essay, and with only five minutes to plan and 20 for drafting,
most students aren't going to risk pushing the boundaries of form or write
outside the box. Instead, they'll stick with what they've been told by their
teachers and coaches is safe: an introductory paragraph, three examples
-- consisting of one paragraph each -- and a conclusion, all of which
makes a tidy five-part package. Even that may be hard to cram in to the time
allotted. Many who took the test on March 12 complained they couldn't finish,
adding that when they have to write in class they get twice as much time to
deal with a topic whose subject matter they already know, since it derives not
from thin air but from the work they've done in class.
Then there's the problem of
grading the essays. According to the College Board, graders must have a B.A.
and preferably will have taught English recently. They must also own a personal
computer connected to the Internet, even if that computer is at an all-night
Kinko's or an Internet cafe in Bangalore. But that's not all. Checking the
college transcripts and work records of so many graders proved so onerous that
now applicants are asked simply to affirm that they meet the minimal criteria.
The pool of graders, who are
paid $17 an hour, is expected to process about 2.5 million handwritten essays
each year. They are trained not in groups led by assessment specialists but
through an interactive DVD that they can watch in their free time on their
computers. The DVD shows them how to assess essays holistically using a
six-point scale, working alone at their Web browsers. In the assembly-line
online marathon necessary to process all the tests, the average grader must
read 300 essays over a 10-day grading period. Given a six-hour work day and a
high-speed Internet connection for downloading essays and uploading scores,
that comes to 10 minutes per essay, assuming no breaks to get another latte,
check e-mail, or call a grading supervisor with a question. It is not clear
that graders who work at that pace, or on such a scale, can reliably evaluate
what they read.
That leads me to think that the
College Board won't be exploiting essay graders for long. It already markets
WritePlacer Plus, a service that offers colleges machine grading of
student-placement essays, and its online SAT-prep course uses the same software
to give students instant feedback on sample SAT essays they must write and
submit. In addition Pearson, which holds the contract for scoring the SAT, is
actively pushing another machine-grading package, the Intelligent Essay
Assessor, which promises to eliminate human subjectivity from the process
altogether. Once that happens, writers will be compelled to become even more
formulaic in their quest to craft an essay that matches the computer's
highest-score algorithm.
Our educational system trains
writers to address human readers, not machines, and switching to machines to
process millions of writing samples won't send students the message that
writing is important. Those students who don't like to write will like it even
less if they're being graded by silicon, and those who think of themselves as
literary will only feel more alienated than they normally do. In addition,
whether the SAT essays are graded by humans or machines, it is not clear that
the scores assigned to them indicate anything beyond the ability of high-school
juniors to hit the ground writing. Even in the information age, that's not a
skill that will get anyone very far.
Surely basing a critical
decision like where a student goes to college on a single writing sample is a
precarious thing to do. But one of the biggest complaints about standardized
tests like the SAT, the ACT (which includes an optional essay), and the
numerous state-mandated assessments now in place -- many of which already
include essays -- is that they force educators to teach to the test. Of
course the testing companies, making lemonade out of their lemons, insist that
this is the whole point of assessment. Gaston Caperton, president of the
College Board, cheerfully predicts that the new SAT will bring about a
much-needed revolution in the public schools, with writing instruction at its
center.
But writing isn't even at the
center of the SAT's new 800-point writing section. What Caperton's revolution
is really promising is to marginalize writing still further by promoting the
five-paragraph theme from an educational curiosity into something more like the
National Writing Report Card. Doing that guarantees leaving even more schools
behind than does the government's controversial No Child Left Behind policy.
Writing is harder to master than reading, and schools where writing is deemed
deficient will be forced to adopt a mechanical, building-blocks approach to it,
just as schools with low reading scores are steered toward phonics and direct
instruction in reading. Those methods will reverse decades of progress in
literacy instruction and ultimately turn students into intellectual automatons.
More specifically, the
five-paragraph theme, or any other formulaic approach to writing, will not help
improve the writing of either high-school or college students: It won't help
those who can't produce intelligible, written sentences to form them better,
and it won't teach those not used to thinking analytically to analyze either
their writing or the subject that they're writing about.
The fact that the new SAT's
writing section values correct English more than competent writing will have a
negative impact on the teaching of grammar and usage in our schools.
Correctness in language is not learned through memorization. It evolves through
complex choices conditioned by the social and rhetorical context of specific
acts of communication. The SAT's idea that questions about language can be
answered a, b, c, d, or "none of the above" promotes the mistaken
notion that there is only one right answer when it comes to good English, and
thus will force language instruction to revert to simplistic, one-size-fits-all
grammar drills. As a result, the new SAT will widen the gap between high and
low achievement for speakers of nonstand-ard English and for those who speak
English as a second language.
Instead of providing colleges
with a more accurate measure of students' writing ability and linguistic
knowledge, the new SAT will further disadvantage those students who are already
educationally disadvantaged. Today's high schoolers will remember their SAT
score not as the opener of educational doors but as the certificate of
membership in, or exclusion from, the elite club of those whose writing and
grammar already matches the College Board's idea of what is correct.
Dennis Baron is a professor
of English and linguistics at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.
The Chronicle of Higher Education
http://chronicle.com
Section: The Chronicle Review
Volume 51, Issue 35, Pp B14-15