The Regents will surely have many gala luncheons and soirees over the next two years as they ponder whether or not to replace the exams that bear their names. Now you don't want them to rush into this willy-nilly, since the exams have only been around since 1865. It's important that change happen gradually, so that as few of us as possible remain living by the time these changes are made. That way, by the time the decisions prove all wrong, the current Regents can simply blame them on those who made them 30, 40, or 200 years ago.
The gold standard, of course, is the English Regents exam. It's important that our children know how to read tedious crap and answer questions about petty detail. That way, when they go to college, they'll have experience hating everything placed in front of them. And when they go to work, they'll be utterly miserable. This is pretty much the golden standard for common core, as envisioned by David "No one gives a crap how you think or feel" Coleman.
Coleman is now the head of College Board. This is important, because one of the ideas the geniuses in Albany are running up the flagpole to see who salutes is substituting the SAT for the Regents exams. This is a WIN-WIN in that it not only replaces one tedious and useless exam for another, but also manages to enrich Coleman and his BFFs. Who could ask for more than that?
After all, why should we bother with nonsense like trying to make our children readers? Just because you or I may be engrossed in some historical novel or other doesn't mean that our children should be. Why on earth would we want to burden them with examining the feelings of other humans when, as per Coleman's trenchant analysis, no one gives a crap anyway?
And you know what that leads to. Pretty soon they'll be telling us how they feel, and they'll want us to listen. Or worse, they'll want us to read about how they feel or what they're going through. Let's face it, if your job prospects entail being Walmart associates, you won't have time to indulge in that nonsense. That's why Walmart sinks so much money into charter schools that teach children how to march from room to room like little tin soldiers. A pliable public is a Walmart associate public.
Expressing your feelings ought to be reserved for the more privileged classes. For example, the President of the United States just visited the African-American History Museum. Here's what happened:
You see, a great thinker like Donald Trump needs to reflect. Your kids and mine, not so much. To make sure they don't, the geniuses in Albany wholeheartedly accepted Common Core. While they no longer place Common Core in the test title, the tests are still the same, and the Regents think they are good enough for the children of New York State.
So let them sit around and think for another couple of years, while New York's children waste their time with miserable tests that display total indifference to love of reading, ability to express one's self in writing, or anything remotely resembling writer voice. Where's the urgency?
The Regents have made a deep commitment to sit around for two years, and maybe do something afterward. Or maybe not.
That ought to be good enough for anyone.
The gold standard, of course, is the English Regents exam. It's important that our children know how to read tedious crap and answer questions about petty detail. That way, when they go to college, they'll have experience hating everything placed in front of them. And when they go to work, they'll be utterly miserable. This is pretty much the golden standard for common core, as envisioned by David "No one gives a crap how you think or feel" Coleman.
Coleman is now the head of College Board. This is important, because one of the ideas the geniuses in Albany are running up the flagpole to see who salutes is substituting the SAT for the Regents exams. This is a WIN-WIN in that it not only replaces one tedious and useless exam for another, but also manages to enrich Coleman and his BFFs. Who could ask for more than that?
After all, why should we bother with nonsense like trying to make our children readers? Just because you or I may be engrossed in some historical novel or other doesn't mean that our children should be. Why on earth would we want to burden them with examining the feelings of other humans when, as per Coleman's trenchant analysis, no one gives a crap anyway?
And you know what that leads to. Pretty soon they'll be telling us how they feel, and they'll want us to listen. Or worse, they'll want us to read about how they feel or what they're going through. Let's face it, if your job prospects entail being Walmart associates, you won't have time to indulge in that nonsense. That's why Walmart sinks so much money into charter schools that teach children how to march from room to room like little tin soldiers. A pliable public is a Walmart associate public.
Expressing your feelings ought to be reserved for the more privileged classes. For example, the President of the United States just visited the African-American History Museum. Here's what happened:
“The president paused in front of the exhibit that discussed the role of the Dutch in the slave trade,” Bunch writes. “As he pondered the label I felt that maybe he was paying attention to the work of the museum. He quickly proved me wrong. As he turned from the display he said to me, ‘You know, they love me in the Netherlands.’ All I could say was let’s continue walking.”
You see, a great thinker like Donald Trump needs to reflect. Your kids and mine, not so much. To make sure they don't, the geniuses in Albany wholeheartedly accepted Common Core. While they no longer place Common Core in the test title, the tests are still the same, and the Regents think they are good enough for the children of New York State.
So let them sit around and think for another couple of years, while New York's children waste their time with miserable tests that display total indifference to love of reading, ability to express one's self in writing, or anything remotely resembling writer voice. Where's the urgency?
The Regents have made a deep commitment to sit around for two years, and maybe do something afterward. Or maybe not.
That ought to be good enough for anyone.
