True or false? Right or wrong? Neither question is that complicated to understand. It’s either one or the other. At least that’s the way it was when I was going to school while growing up a long, long time ago on that old familiar street not so far away called Flamingo. Back then, testing in school was, dare I say, easy.

If you have a child in a Georgia school, then you’re already aware they are currently undergoing academic testing. The Georgia Milestones are a big deal, and it’s been amazing to get an inside look for the first time at the professionalism required to administer it in a classroom. But this story really isn’t about the Milestones tests – it’s about the evolution of testing. Here are some examples of the testing I experienced while attending Briarwood High School, home of the Mighty Buccaneers. 

Can you answer every question on a math final exam correctly and still get every answer wrong? Yes. How do I know this to be true? I was the confident one taking such a test in Mr. Baker’s tenth-grade math class. And how is it possible to answer none of the questions but still get an “A” on an eleventh-grade English test? Before I give the correct answers to those questions, here’s quick history lesson on the development of tests administered in school. 

Smell.

I loved taking tests in elementary school. Why? The smell. If you went to school in the 60’s or 70’s, you understand. Back in Old Mrs. Crabtree’s third-grade class, test days were always on Fridays, and after she handed out the papers, all the kids would do the same thing. They would pick up the test and give it a good sniff. 

Mimeographing is the process of forcing purple ink through a stencil and onto paper. This “old school” way of making copies gave the papers a pleasant and unique aroma. Yes, now I know the substances were toxic. But for me, the fragrance is nostalgic, and I will always associate it with Mrs. Crabtree’s classroom. Her tests were always the same: twenty questions – all true or false. I love true or false questions because even if you hadn’t studied (which I hadn’t most of the time), you had a 50% chance of getting the answer correct. This way of testing was perfect, but it didn’t last long.

Multiple choice.

The multiple-choice test (or as I liked to call it the multiple-prayer test) came around the time I started Briarwood. Every test still had about ten true or false questions, but the rest was twenty multiple choice questions, each with four possible answers to choose from. After reading the options, I usually knew immediately which answer was clearly wrong. Another one I disregarded after giving it a second read. That left two to choose from. I was now back to a 50% chance of getting the correct answer – this was something I could live with. That was until…

All or none.

By the time I reached the eleventh-grade, tests had changed once again. Now there were five true or false, and the rest of the test questions were multiple choice. The multiple-choice questions had not four, but six possible answers with “None of the above” or “All of the above” added to the list of choices. This was when I started getting what I like to call “Not so good” grades. Mom and Dad called them something else, but this is a family column, so I won’t use that kind of language here.

The correct answers.

So how could I possibly get all the answers correct on a tenth-grade math test but still get all of them wrong? The answer is one word…scantron. This new type of test was introduced to us in tenth grade, and it was to make grading tests simpler and faster. You still got a list of questions, but you also were handed a scantron sheet. The answer sheet had the question numbers and six corresponding bubbles. Once you selected the correct answer, all you had to do was fill in the correct bubble using a #2 pencil. The sheet was then fed into a machine that read the answers and marked them correct or incorrect.

The scantron sheets worked great for teachers – not so much for me. I had studied for the final in Mr. Baker’s math class, and I really knew all the answers. I flew through that test and was gonna be the first to hand it in except… 

When I went to bubble in my answer for the last question on the scantron sheet, I’d already used up all of them. It took me a moment to realized that somehow, I’d gotten off track and skipped bubbling an answer along the way. Unfortunately, time ran out, so I had to turn the test in. I explained to Mr. Baker what I had done. He graded it over the weekend, and I did get everything wrong, but Monday afternoon he allowed me to retake his test. I got an “A.” Guess studying really does work.

Reading works too.

The test I didn’t answer anything on, but still got an “A” was the easiest test I took in high school. As the English teacher handed out the papers, he stated, “Please make sure to read all instructions first. Then and only then take the test. Do not mark on the test until you finish reading the instructions on each page.” 

I did what the teacher said to do and read the instructions on each page. At the top of the last page were the following instructions: If you have made it this far without marking on any page, sign your name below and turn in your paper. Congratulations, you just made an “A” for following the instructions. If you have already marked on any page, finish taking the test and you will be graded on your answers. I turned in my test before anyone else and then glanced over at Bully Brad. He was looking at answers written on the palm of his left hand, cheating once again.         

All through school, Bully Brad was somehow able to cheat on tests either by small rolled up papers, answers in ink on the palms of his hands, or even notes written on chewing gum. Funny, if he had just spent as much time studying as he did trying to cheat, he’d probably would’ve done well on the test anyway. 

With the way testing is done today, all on computers, surrounded by cardboard “offices,” and under constant proctoring, I believe it’s nearly impossible now to cheat. I wonder though. Could someone as determined as Bully Brad still cheat? 

If they were able to, that would certainly be called a Georgia milestone.