The scan-trons at work make this distinct clacking noise when a bad test runs through the machine; It is discarded to a pile on the other side with no mercy.
85...79....98...92
Some other teacher will inevitably walk by and go "oooooo....sounds like a bad one". That's the teacher's version of "somebodies got a case of the Mondays".
I always see the kids face when it goes through...I think all teachers do; their names are written there with uniform distinctness. That one kid that signs his test with an autograph, the perfectly neat stencil writing, the bubbly girl writing, the tiny and unimaginative right brained writing - their name, and the way they write it bears witness to their identity...and so does the test.
I have two opposing opinions about this concept. The first is that it is a shame that a piece of paper can somehow encapsulate a persons identity. That the number on that score can become a floor or a ceiling for a person's achievement.
My other opinion embraces this Darwinist mindset. Choices are so important. Every moment is an opportunity for choice, and every choice leaves a trail behind us that says, this is who I am, this is what I care about, and so on.
The kids are at home while the Scan-tron keeps humming, waiting to consume their next test, whether the kid studied for it or not. But then again, the test isn't where they are, it's where they've been. What they do next, is their choice.
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