The Most Frustrating Time of Year
If you’ve read this blog recently, the title of this post likely perplexes you. I literally wrote just three weeks ago about how Easter is one of my three favorite holidays, including my rationale for why spring is a really great season. Meanwhile, back in February, I talked about the “Season of Hate,” that time of year between the Christmas holidays and Spring Break, when tension between teachers and students heightens, and during which TEA forces upon public schools the test known as TELPAS. Even back in December, I wrote about “The Least Wonderful Time of the Year,” when high school students might be cursed with the bane of STAAR End-Of-Course (EOC) Retests while happier images of the holiday season surround them. Given the backdrop and implications of those three posts, you have to wonder, “How can this time of year be the one you call ‘the most frustrating?’”
As you might guess, it has to do with…testing. STAAR Testing, that is. BTW, if you thought “STAAR” looked stupid on-paper, wait until TEA unveils — and this is not a joke — the “Student Success Tool of Academic Readiness,” or “SSTAR,” in 2027-28. God help us all. The jokes write themselves at this point, from the multiple meanings of the term “tool” to the imagery of Warner Brothers’ Sylvester the Cat saying “Sssufferin’ Ssssucotash, it’s SSTAR ssseason.”
Here’s the thing: We have this wonderful time of the calendar year, with the chance for great weather, with the end of the school year oh-so-close, and with spring fever hitting everyone, teachers and students alike, and what does TEA foist upon public schools? STAAR Testing. Particularly THIS year, in the penultimate throes of STAAR, when it’s a proverbial “lame duck” test that will be replaced by something theoretically better, but possibly far worse, in a mere two years. You’d better believe that juxtaposition is frustrating. April is supposed to be a time for Field Day, and instead it is twisted into a time for field-tested items on a test that has faced so much scrutiny that the Texas Legislature finally decided to go in a different direction. It’s a time when elementary and middle schools still hold “STAAR Pep Rallies” (still an actual thing) and place painful puns like “STAAR Wars” on t-shirts. It’s such a dichotomy for teachers and staff to complain so much about this test, yet at the same time feign enthusiasm in front of the students in an apparent attempt to “spur them on to victory,” I guess? I really can’t fathom it because I think the notion of giving a kid between the ages of 8 and 18 a “pep talk” for a multiple choice test and expecting it to resonate at all is borderline insane. No one “sees the light” about STAAR because the band played “We Will Rock You” or the cheerleaders danced to “Hot To Go.”
At the high school level, STAAR EOC will still rear its ugly head as students who take it for the first time know that they must achieve a passing score — “Approaches Grade Level,” in the parlance of TEA — to remain on-track for graduation requirements. Members of the Class of 2026 and 2027 will still take STAAR, and there’s a good chance that TEA will require STAAR EOC for the class of 2028, 2029, and 2030, as well, since those students will take STAAR EOC for the first time in Grade 9. We could have FOUR YEARS of high schools offering STAAR and SSTAR concurrently. Imagine the sheer agony. Meanwhile, students who have already been unsuccessful on one or more STAAR EOC test will receive one more opportunity to pass each spring. Graduating seniors with more than two tests still remaining will sweat a bit, because they may only graduate using the Individual Graduation Committee provision on up to two tests.
“What’s an Individual Graduation Committee?” you might ask. Honestly, that’s a can of worms you don’t really want to open, but I’ll crack the lid for you slightly. STAAR was conceived in 2007. When it was implemented in the spring of 2012, Texas law required students to pass fifteen (15)— yes, FIFTEEN — EOC tests, five per year from grades 9-11. (Longtime educators may recall that the 2007 law also required each STAAR test to count for 15% of a student’s course average for the corresponding course.) The Texas legislature reduced the required tests to five (5) in 2013, then reduced the actual number of tests students were required to pass to three in 2015, when they created the Individual Graduation Committee. What the law basically says is that if a student does not “approach grade level” (pass) on up to two STAAR EOC tests, that students may complete a district-developed project for the corresponding course and therefore still graduate based on Individual Graduation Committee, commonly called the IGC. So the past 15 years have seen an overly ambitious system whittled down to what amounts to “pass 3 of 5 tests at a minimal level to graduate.” Meanwhile, TEA has tacked on several other requirements for students to be considered “college and career ready.” But that’s a tale for a different post.
One thing TEA did in 2024 in an effort to “tighten up” IGC requirements was require a given student to actually pass 3 of 5 EOCs before they could even discuss an IGC and pursue the project. Prior to that, a student could 3-4 IGCs queued up and ready as they retest on 1-2 more EOCs. But no more. Now, any senior still taking 3 or more EOCs this month will NOT be able to graduate in May, since there’s no way they can realistically complete the IGC project, and process, when EOC results come back literally days before most districts hold graduation. So that particular group of students has even less incentive to perform very well at all in April, since they already know that their STAAR EOC status has prevented them from graduating until at least summer. Granted, there’s a decent chance these same students may not have the academic credits needed to graduate, as well, but IGC adds proverbial salt to the wound. And don’t get me started on the bureaucratic nonsense school administrators have to address with IGC documentation. A parade of paperwork. Although some of it may be kept electronically, it’s the required meetings for IGC on top of every other requirement TEA concocts when a student does not pass STAAR that takes a mental and emotional toll on staff who are already being taken to the edge of insanity by bureaucratic details.
Keep in mind, too, that TEA’s calendar extends the STAAR torture across the month of April in the name of “test anxiety mitigation.” In the days of TAKS, testing took place twice: once in April for Reading and Writing on consecutive days, once in May for Math, Science, and Social Studies, also on consecutive days. TEA’s current STAAR calendar allows a two-week “window” each for Reading/English, Science & Social Studies, and Math. The theory is to avoid giving students 3 or more tests over consecutive days. Districts are required to establish a “primary” testing date for the respective tests in each window, with “make-up” testing dates through the rest of the week, and possibly the following week. STAAR testing, therefore, theoretically lasts from April 6 to May 1, nearly a full month. STAAR has no time limit, so a given student could theoretically test all day. At the same time, TEA has specific rules in place wherein campuses are required to consolidate students who are still testing, while releasing students who’ve finished testing to their “normal” class routine, in the name of instruction, I guess? So NOW we’re suddenly taking measures to respect instruction? Does anyone at TEA really believe that normal instruction takes place on STAAR testing days given all the disruption created by a long, untimed test? On a practical and instructional level for a campus, the month of April is lost…LOST…to STAAR. Teachers will, no doubt, attempt their best to instruct their students properly, especially if they teach AP classes, which have their own exams in the month of May. But everyone knows that those efforts are hindered greatly by the specter of STAAR, and everyone feels the frustration. The fact that this series of torturous weeks is the primary food for an albatross of an accountability system that purports to assign an A-F letter grade to the district and campus only adds insult to the injury and irritation.
Thanks to House Bill 8 (2025) and the advent of “SSTAR,” things have to improve, right? Theoretically, yes. Where STAAR is a single, lengthy annual test from which TEA develops a convoluted (and deeply flawed) algorithm to determine whether a student has “met progress” standards from one grade to the next, SSTAR will ostensibly be designed to mimic nationally-normed tests like MAP Growth, which has been offered by the Northwest Evaluation Association (NWEA) in Reading and Math for decades. MAP Growth consists of three shorter tests: Beginning of Year (BOY), Middle of Year (MOY), and End of Year (EOY), which are designed to assess a student’s growth in the subject across the current school year, rather than from the previous one. MAP Growth is also an adaptive test, where the first few items are identical for all students, but based on how well the student performs on each item, ensuing items may vary in difficulty. Do well, and the test gets harder; do poorly, and the test gets easier. Adaptive testing allows the test itself to challenge high performing students while reducing difficulty for lower performance, thus developing a more refined evaluation of a student’s academic ability and progress. The BOY test can zero in on how well the student retained the previous year’s learning, while the MOY and EOY tests can focus on the current year’s learning and retention.
Theoretically, it sounds great. Shorter tests, therefore “mitigated test anxiety,” more thorough results, and an overall better experience for teachers and students. Theoretically, such a system is able to integrate more seamlessly into a given school day and the overall school year, because campuses won’t be forced to “shut down” to allow students to complete a lengthy test. HB 8 even requires results to delivered to school districts within two business days after the testing window has closed. So, theoretically, SSTAR will deliver quicker results that can actually inform instruction, particularly after BOY and MOY testing. NWEA has been very successful marketing its product to school systems, and MAP Growth has been adopted across Texas as a growth indicator in Reading and Math while allowing schools to reteach and/or extend content for students as appropriate. Theoretically, SSTAR will essentially replace MAP Growth, and perhaps local benchmarks, because the state’s assessment will, itself, become THE benchmark. Theoretically, that means less testing and more instruction for students and teachers, using the data from a truly fine-tuned assessment instrument to enhance the instructional process.
Theoretically.
TEA has not provided much guidance as to what SSTAR will actually be. To be fair, HB 8 requires TEA to report on its transition plan by February 15, 2027, so there are still several months available for planning. But certain aspects of the legislation, or rather missing aspects, are troubling. HB 8 doesn’t place a specific time or item limit on any of the tests, so it’s theoretically possible that an overambitious TEA could move toward three lengthy, unwieldy tests to replace one. Additionally, TEA has not announced the testing vendor for SSTAR. The current vendor, Cambium Assessment (together with Pearson Education), could win the next contract, or TEA may decide on a return to the previous vendor, Educational Testing Service (ETS). Some parents and educators have already advocated for direct statewide adoption of MAP Growth, because it’s an established adaptive test, many districts already have contracts with NWEA, and staff and students are familiar with the instrument in terms of testing and results. But NWEA doesn’t have a MAP Growth test for every STAAR-assessed subject, so that plan would also require significant time and development. The bottom line is, we don’t know right now. TEA might stick the landing with a simple, intuitive, tightly developed test that is free from technical and content problems and delivers meaningful, actionable results. They might also completely mishandle the process and create genuine chaos in campuses across the state not just in Spring 2028, but THREE TIMES during the 2027-28 school year. Find me one student or educator who says “Triple-Scoop Sh**show? Yes, please!”
What troubled me the most when I was mired in the gunk that is state assessment in Texas, and what troubles me still, now, as a retiree watching the system continue to evolve, is the intellectual arrogance, the unabashed certainty, of those at the top. I’ve seen the Texas Commissioner of Education speak in-person, several times. He’s got this under control; just ask him. The man’s in his eleventh year as commissioner, longer than anyone has ever held the office. Yet he’s never actually been a professional educator at any level. And when he does visit a classroom, it’s typically the proverbial “dog-and-pony show” because everyone wants to impress the commissioner, not show him the realities of day-to-day life in a public school. He will never experience what public educators experience. Never. Yet somehow, our governor continues to entrust him with our students’ future. It’s baffling. Seriously, anyone who thinks public education in Texas has been spinning its wheels, or worse, losing them, over the past decade can point to ONE person who’s been there all along. And please, don’t come at my with the pandemic as an excuse; today’s first graders were literally just born around that time. Old news, illegitimate excuse. I also remember hearing the Director of Student Assessment for TEA speak pre-pandemic, about a decade ago. That guy was even more arrogantly certain than the Commissioner. He’s also gone now, as are many TEA staff members. They’ve apparently had so much turnover that their Staff Directory page is currently dormant. I wonder why. I guess we’re all just supposed to trust that whoever they hire to replace the departed staff will, despite having their hands full with the STAAR-to-SSTAR transition, make their absolute, honest best efforts to craft a more advanced, credible, and useful state assessment system than the one we’re about to leave behind.
Theoretically.
