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Taproot issue 39 - February 2001

School Tests Not The Only Measure of Life Skills

By Susan Reimer

It is December and high school kids everywhere, not to mention the one hanging on my fridge like a vulture, are waiting to learn how they scored on the PSAT’s and the SAT’s.

It is an irony of these tests that they measure what our kids know about a variety of topics, such as analogies, that may never come up in real life or in a conversation with a potential employer.

But the kids know without being reminded by us that their scores are the first link in a chain of circumstances that will determine how they do in life, so they cram and get tutored and take courses and learn test-taking strategies.

We did some of these things in our house, but it occurred to me that while my son was prepared for this one Saturday-morning ritual, he wasn’t prepared for life.

“You’ve got a lot to learn,” I said, not for the first time. “You have great grades, but you don’t know how to cook or sew on a button or anything.” “Mom,” Joe said wearily. “That’s what bachelorhood is for.”

His circular logic temporarily silenced me, not for the first time. But I began to make a mental list of all the things Joe needs to know before he is loose in the world, and how to replace a button is just the beginning.

He needs to know how to iron a dress shirt, press the wrinkles out of a tie without scorching it and how to iron a crease in his pants. Right now, the boy wouldn’t know which end of an iron to grab.

He needs to learn how to balance a checking account and how to return an item to a department store. He needs to learn what he can afford.

He needs to learn the addictive nature of credit and the astonishing mathematics of saving

He needs to learn his way around a grocery store and to realize that toilet paper won’t magically appear under the sink just when you need it.

He needs to learn how to find a doctor and how to get a prescription refilled. He needs to learn how to cut grass, change a tire and carve a turkey, because no matter how liberated the woman in his life may be, she will probably require that he do the “guy” jobs.

He needs to learn how to make my spaghetti sauce so that when he is down or lonely he can comfort himself with familiar food.

Joe needs to learn how to check his credit card statement for mistakes, how to read a label, a utility bill, a newspaper ad and his paycheck. He needs to learn the restorative power of Motown music, the way to clean a bathroom, and the importance of stopping the mail and newspaper when you are away.

He needs to learn how to behave in a restaurant and in a job interview, and how to fill out all kinds of forms.

My mother will haunt me if I do not pass on the dying art of hospital corners, but it will be up to Joe to remember to change the sheets on his bed, not to mention the vacuum cleaner bag. He needs to learn how to do a load of wash, how to get the stain out of a favorite shirt, and that there are some things you just don’t put in the dryer.

He needs to learn that the quickest way to do the thing isn’t always the right way; that if you don’t eat well, you won’t feel well; and that you can’t leave things in the refrigerator indefinitely. When I began to enumerate this list for my son, he stopped me cold.

“Mom,” he said dismissively. “I’m going to pay people to do that stuff.”

“Well,” I responded, “You better hope you have a great SAT score.”

Tressler Family Connections Nov./Dec. 1999