Writing for a Purpose—Not for the SAT

My kids are not pleased. My oldest took the SAT in 2005, the year the Writing Section was added. "This writing test is so stupid!" she complained, "Who writes like this in real life?" Her younger sister agreed, as she took the SAT a few years later and was equally frustrated by the arbitrariness of the scoring. My youngest, a senior in high school, just finished taking the SAT last year. He was as annoyed with the writing test as his sisters had been.

So, you can imagine their collective reaction when they heard the recent announcement:

"The SAT Writing Section will no longer be required."

"Seriously?" they asked. "Why did they ever add it in the first place?" 

Good question. Why had it taken nine long years for the College Board to realize that a high-stakes, time-pressured, standardized test is a terrible way to assess writing skills? In what other situation would anyone be asked to prepare a handwritten (no pens or typing allowed), five-paragraph essay in under 25 minutes—with no access to reference materials, no time for review or revisions—and perfect on the first try?  Such a contrived scenario goes against everything I have tried to teach my kids about writing as a way to learn and communicate. 

Ask any writer. Writing isn't about getting points; it's about discovering your voice and articulating your thoughts in a clear, compelling way. A first draft of prose hastily cobbled together might be interesting—it might even be grammatically correct—but it doesn't really tell you much about the writer. Competent writers need to care enough about their writing to persevere during the iterative process of investigation, discovery, drafting and revision. A writer without any mettle probably isn't going to be much of a writer, no matter how impressive her initial draft of a five-paragraph essay might seem. 

When it comes to writing with a purpose and caring enough about your writing to keep working at it, William Zinsser (On Writing Well, Writing to Learn, and others) is an extraordinary mentor. Zinsser truly understands the connection between thinking and writing, and how the two reinforce each other.

"Writing is how we think our way into a discipline, organize our thoughts about it and generate new ideas" (p. 202, Writing to Learn).

By clarifying our thoughts in writing, we come to understand them better. That's why I've recently asked a group of homeschooled high school students to create and maintain their own blogs. Their feelings about the assignment are mixed: some are enthusiastic, others are dreading it. In an effort to encourage and inspire them, I've asked them to examine other blogs of their own choosing to determine what qualities they might like to emulate—or avoid. What purpose would they like their blogs to serve?

I've also provided them with a set of blogging resources—a small collection of videos, articles and brief tutorials to help them get started.

My next step is to work with the students to define the criteria they'll use to evaluate the design and content of their blogs (most likely, we'll create a variation of this Rubric for Evaluating Student Blogs by Karen Franker). I'll be asking them to comment on each other's blogs, too.

Yes, I've heard that "Blogging Is Dead" (from Fast Company), so there's a chance these students will abandon their blogs not long after they begin them. And, certainly, one could argue that there are too many bloggers out there already (as Jeff Goins acknowledges in "Bad Writing Is Essential to Good Blogging"—the 100+ comments in response to his post are interesting).  But honestly? I'm not expecting my students to achieve fame or fortune as bloggers.

People blog for many different reasons, often quite personal ones, and my students can decide for themselves what they want to learn about through their writing. They can pick and choose what they want to release to the public. Of one thing I'm sure: their blogs will be a more meaningful assessment of their writing skills than the dreaded SAT Writing Section ever was.