Standardized Testing Classroom Ambience • Quiet Pencil Scratches & Papers for Study, Focus & Calm

Doodle while the Driven Excel; Standardized Testing… Ambience

Writing/ classroom ambience. How do I say, "Enjoy 8 hours of testing ambience?" The thought of testing conjures up traumas of past educational failures. And I'm not talking about having the test slapped on the desktop before me with "F" scratched out in red marker.

I'm talking "permanent record" here. My invisible collection of abject failures that I was led to believe followed me everywhere. I imagined a shadow network that handed off my permanent record wherever I went. There would be a back room with a filing cabinet waiting to temporarily house it. Where it waited for me to screw up.

I still feel its presence today. There may be some backroom in my house my family hasn't warned me of. Perhaps the neighbors are some kind of "Adjustment Bureau" for my CATs, SATs, and ACTs.

So, yeah, no — this ambience isn't about a make or break test. Let's imagine we're in class, and everyone else is studious because they're so smug about going somewhere in this world. And we are at the back of the class drawing Too Much Coffee Man or writing an amazing short story while everyone is being ambitious.

And for me, it wasn't an amazing short story. It was a **** short story that was only short because I couldn't figure out how to get my awesome Mack Bolan-esque character out from the clutches of the cartel's trap deep in a jungle. (Which was totally stolen from Clear and Present Danger).

"There's nowhere left to run, Blaze Tower," said the short man grasping a half-smoldered cigar. This was Blaze Tower's nemesis, a man everyone called Martillo (to be played by Miguel Sandoval in the inevitable movie). Martillo had been responsible for the death of Blaze's family; they had been bystanders in a park. A picnic turned to panic by errant crossfire and totally ripped off from Frank Castle's origin. (RIP my media diet in the 90s… I heard my parents regularly remark, "At least he's reading something.”)

Bluh—where were we? Oh yes... relaxing at the back of the class.

Original photo by Pixabay