I felt a slight, but very noticeable, tightening in my stomach when I read Friday's lead story in The Irish Times.
The report, by the paper's highly respected education editor, revealed standardised testing of all seven- and 11-year-olds was set to be introduced before the end of September under plans being finalised by the Department of Education.
The department has confirmed a circular will be issued to schools "within weeks" detailing how the new tests in reading and maths will operate.
Maybe it's the overly protective parent in me . . . it was only a couple of days since number-one son had begun primary school so there are still traces of cotton wool in his hair . . . but the concept of testing seven-year-olds, and even 11year-olds, makes me edgy.
The logic of what the Department of Education is saying is admittedly pretty strong. Ireland is one of the few OECD states without a coherent national policy on the use of standardised tests. The new tests will provide valuable information for parents about their children's learning and will also help teachers to target those whom the tests show to be struggling.
There have also been plenty of reassuring comments from those involved in education. John Carr, the general secretary of the INTO, said the new standardised test would not be "the Leaving Cert for seven-year-olds. Irish schools are not going down the road of highstakes testing for young children taken by other countries."
It was stressed there will not be a single test, held on a single day for every sevenor 11-year-old. And although a standardised scale will be used, schools will be able to choose from a variety of tests.
Furthermore, about 90% of primary schools already use these tests to assess literacy and numeracy in their pupils.
So what's my problem? It's essentially an instinctive, from-the-gut feeling that if what's being proposed walks like a test, talks like a test, then it's a test. And perhaps I'm being too 'happy-clappy, modern parenty' but I just don't like the idea of seven-year-old kids being formally examined.
It's a competitive and tough enough world out there for children already without having to having to face the pressure of exams at such a tender age.
I don't for a second doubt the bona fides of the minister and the INTO when they say the exam results won't be distributed more widely than parents and guardians;
that there will be no question of 'teaching to the test' or the information being used to facilitate the compilation of school league tables. But I seriously doubt anyone can categorically say these very things won't happen in the future.
And even if the results aren't widely available, the children will in many cases surely know what they fared. For those who do badly in the tests, there is a risk of feeling like failures . . . and no sevenyear-old should be made feel like that.
How, for example, do they answer when their friends in the schoolyard ask how they got on in the test?
And human nature being what it is, it's difficult to imagine that at least some parents and teachers won't be putting particular emphasis on the importance of these tests. Every parent is naturally going to want their child to do well and schools will be anxious to show they are doing a good job, so it's far from difficult to see how the tests could in the future take on an importance well beyond simply assessing how individual students are doing with maths and English.
Can anybody, hand on heart, categorically state that the introduction of these tests won't prompt some parents to organise pre-test grinds or that they won't further demoralise schools, particularly in underprivileged areas.
Regardless of how well-intentioned the tests may be, the potential for increased pressure on very young children seems quite high.
Nor is the argument that 90% of schools use the tests already particularly reassuring. For starters, the fact many schools already do it doesn't in itself mean it is right. And secondly, there is a whole world of difference between 90% and 100% of schools carrying out such tests. Once it becomes a mandatory, national test, it takes on a life of its own.
It becomes something big, a virtual rite of passage.
Of course, there is a need to make sure children are literate and numerate, but are we seriously supposed to believe the only way of assessing them is by a standardised test? Surely teachers are well capable of assessing how the children in their classes are faring and identifying those who need extra help and attention. If they aren't (and I don't believe that is the case) then we have problems with the education system.
Perhaps the rationale for introducing the standardised tests for primary school children is utterly compelling.
Perhaps fears about how it could potentially impact on children's morale and sense of self are misplaced and more than balanced out by the good it will do in identifying those let down by the system. Perhaps my nagging concerns are more about an understandable, but ultimately unhealthy, desire to cosset my kids from the big bad world.
Perhaps. But, equally, perhaps not.
And the only way of being any way sure is to have a proper public debate about the merits of this proposal before it is introduced. That is the least we should expect.
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