Around this time of year, the principal sends out her second e-mail. The first one was sent out in mid-December/early January. Said e-mails ask a simple question: who will be retained for the upcoming school year. Ah, yes, retention. The word that makes the kids buckle down in the last quarter. The word that makes parents query what more can be done. The word that makes teachers question their instructional practices. Retention.
By January, my retention seemed a little long. I had listed too many students as possible candidates for failure. Luckily, many students got on track for the third nine weeks and improved their chances. Even now in April, I fear it—the List—is too long. True, no teacher wants to see any student held back. But then, I counter what of my students made a goal this year to play in class, to never do any homework, to never complete any project, to never pass any test, etc. The realism walks in. The punishment for doing nothing is harsh but fair. The list starts to make sense.
While realism has its place, to be sure, common sense and practicality speak, as well. I know the research suggest nothing positive comes out of holding back a student. Further, it actually serves as encouragement to drop out in the later years. And our administrators strongly urge us to work with all students in danger of failing the grade. We meet with parents, set up tutoring, give more practice and remediation, and suggest the possibility of the child and the parent working together at home to better improve the child’s chances at promotion to a higher grade. I know that should one of my students be held back, I want it known I documented every attempt to save said student from drowning. Still, it will hurt. Then, I think back on what the research says of social promotion.
In short, retention is the short phrase that sends students and parents reeling. Everybody grows well-nigh apoplectic at thought of a student being held back. A string piece combining the main title themes from Sophie’s Choice and Schindler’s List plays hourly on the school’s PA system. At the heart of the matter really is that no one wants any child to fail. Do all you can really means do not let it happen. Work feverishly if possible so that it doesn’t happen. Long regarded as the dirtiest word in the schoolhouse, retention comes in at the last minute of every school year to whisk some child—somebody’s child—into its ever-capacious arms. I simply hope and pray it will not be (too m)any of mine.
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