Students in the 10th grade in Mississippi must take a multiple-choice English exam and an essay writing exam. These tests must be passed to graduate high school, and the current school accountability models are tied to them. The writing exam presents students with four essay prompts: two “informative” essay prompts, and two “narrative” essay prompts. Students are to write essays corresponding to one of the two prompts in each mode. So, despite my own distaste for the formula, unabated since I was trained to write the five-paragraph exam essay myself, we spent quite a lot of time preparing to write these essays, going over the difference between the “modes” (writing “off-mode” is an instant zero), and practicing with countless essays in each.

Then, three weeks before the test, in the middle of a lesson on narrative essays, the counselor enters my room to tell me that she just got word the state board has eliminated the narrative essay requirement. These students will not be tested on narrative writing. Upperclassmen who have still not passed will not be required to pass.

A few days later, in class at Ole Miss, I got the opportunity to speak with somebody powerful from Jackson (assistant state superintendent?). I told her how many hours we had spent preparing for this test — hours which could have been spent working on the informative essays, or on the components of the multiple choice test, or having conversations, or (dare I say it?) reading books — and I told her that I saw it as irresponsible to make this move three weeks before the test, and I asked her for some sort of explanation. The explanation was vague and brief (alluding to high failure rates, presumably in schools that shouldn’t have high failure rates), and she fed me a line about its being important to teach the narrative mode even in the absence of the test. Which is bullshit. Many of my students are marginally literate. Hardly any read competently. What they most need is what test preparation least gives them, but the test is standing between them and graduation; and it stands between the school and a designation indicating some degree of success, and the benefits that such designation confers. I have wasted hours preparing them for a test that now they don’t have to take, though they still have to take others. These have been wasted hours, and when there aren’t hours to waste.

I’m afraid this decision might not be merely irresponsible, but sinister. Is it unreasonable to suspect that the English II teachers in Oxford and Tupelo knew about this decision, or at least heard whispers of it, months ago?

April 2, 2006 · Teachering · (No comments)


More features of the local dialects:

The double modal. The doubling of modal auxiliaries is somewhat widely known and identified with Southern speech, but I had never heard it “in the wild” until coming here. Unlike many other Southern dialectical features, it seems not to correlate with social class, at least insofar as I have been exposed to wide enough a range to say so. I don’t know if this is the result of upward mobility and the deterioration of the South’s old social classes, or if it was always thus. I have heard them most from Dr. Mullins (Executive Assistant to the Chancellor of Ole Miss; co-founder of the Mississippi Teacher Corps), who usually doubles his modals at least once or twice during every class he teaches. I have heard my students use them also, but much more rarely. Common examples are might could and might should. Past tenses are formed might’a could and might’a should. Dr. Mullins often says may can (it may can help you. . . .) A similar construction that I’ve had a hard time categorizing, though I don’t think it is strictly a double modal (a modified progressive?) is you don’t suppose to be, as in, you don’t suppose to be usin’ pencil anyway. Actually, that would more likely be said, you don’t suppose to be usin’ pencil noway.

Use of noway as anyway.

I’m is, meaning I am. An emphatic. Not used for simple predication (for that the copula would be dropped, or [with an aspectual distinction?] replaced with be). Viewing the verb system objectively, this is a rich addition, as the standard dialect has no special emphatic for to be (you can’t say I do am, unfortunately, as you can with other verbs) and the emphasis can only be expressed with intonation.

Blood meaning blood pressure, as in, I get faint ’cause my blood low. See sugar and sinuses in previous post.

To brag on x. I don’t think I’d ever heard brag with the preposition on (instead of about) before coming here. This might be a usage for a broad swath of the country rather than the South specially; I considered that perhaps my own dialect prefers the minority usage, but the Oxford American Dictionary reflects only mine, and a Google search for “brag about” returns 4.95 million hits, while one for “brag on” returns 230,000. Nevertheless, I’ve heard it used by very many people here, including those who are not from Mississippi, though I don’t think I’ve heard my mother use it, and she was raised in Nashville. Mississippians seem to use it exclusively.

Behind as a textual location, meaning after. When correcting sentences at the board, and students call out where to place, say, a comma, they say, for instance, behind ‘place’ rather than after ‘place.’ When seeking a location in a sentence, a preposition with a word in that sentence can only mean two things: before the word or after it. It nevertheless took me a while to understand that behind means after.

And, briefly, some slang:

Got ya covered or got ya faded (?), meaning, sure, or no problem.

To be straight, meaning, to understand one another, to have no problems, to be on the same page. As in, Do you understand? Is there a problem? Nah, we straight.

Bet (?) as an emphatic affirmative. It took me a very long time to understand what this word was, as it is pronounced quickly like an explosion through the lips, and the t may or may not become a light glottal stop. For a long time I thought it was beh or peh. It can be used to agree with something, or simply as a celebration. As in, Do you want to go to lunch five minutes early? Bet! or, upon receiving a scored test with high marks, Bet! Perhaps a contraction of you bet?

Gutter as adjective meaning hood, thug, gangsta, etc. Unfortunately used widely with some degree of approval or admiration. In a class discussion of September 11, the war in Iraq, and terrorism, in reference to the Jordanians who own and operate several gas stations here, We got A-rabs in Sardis, Mr. Pollack, but they straight gutta!

Womb, vulgar slang, as substantive for sexual intercourse (to get some womb). May or may not refer generally to female genitalia.

Crucial, meaning intense, serious, troubling, etc. That movie was crucial!

Somewhat more broadly on the subject of dialect, I read an interesting usage recently in some national magazine (I forget which — Smithsonian?). An educated adult, some teacher or researcher, said of something that it “reminds a boy that school is crucial to their mission in life.” I was struck by the pronoun. We are all accustomed to using the plural as a non-specific singular (“Somebody forgot to put their name on their paper.”), which is presumably to avoid the old, sexist use of the masculine when the sex of the antecedent is not specified. But in the sentence from the magazine, the sex of the antecedent is specified as masculine, and the plural is used anyway, which looks like the plural is perhaps becoming the non-specific third person pronoun, regardless of the specificity of the sex — which is to say, only specifically identified persons receive a gendered pronoun.

April 2, 2006 · Language · 2 comments


Following the lead of the state test (if you can’t beat ‘em. . .), which must be taken again and again until passed, I’ve instituted a policy that all small tests and quizzes must be passed by 70% of the class or they will be taken again by that class the following week, and, if necessary, the following week, etc. Tests are modified slightly, or have the questions rearranged, to discourage cheating on subsequent sittings. The most dramatic success was my sixth period, which on one test went from about 20% passing the first time to 100% passing the third. No class has yet gone more than three tries on the same test. Astonishingly, every class has improved its test performance even on the first try. I had expected improvements on the second and third tries, as they study more to make the damn thing go away, but what accounts for the improvement on the first try? Are they studying in order not to be blamed by classmates for forcing a retest? On one occasion, exceeding or falling short of 70% depended on the performance of a student who had been absent when the test was given. I tried not to let on to that fact, but the class figured it out, of course, and the pressure on him was immense, especially since he’s not a particularly studious student. He got 100%.

This procedure also creates some competition between class periods. Students in classes that pass on the first or second try ask how many other classes are still taking it. Many of them want to be the first class to reach 70% passing.

April 2, 2006 · Teachering · (No comments)