I'd Like to Apologize to Every Teacher I Ever Had by Tony Danza

have taught me that accuracy counts long before the student gets anywhere near the test, and woe be to any teacher who misspells Theseus or confuses Anansi with Ashanti. The kids may not be able to answer every question correctly, but they’re sure to find every punctuation or spelling mistake
you
make on a question and rag on you about it for weeks. Also, the test can’t be too easy, and you can’t just “teach to the test.” The questions have to cover all the information you’ve been stressing in class, but they also have to require higher-level thinking. The test might ask them to discuss the concept of irony, for example, or to explain how a situation in a story gives them some insight into their own lives. Oh, and a little humor woven through the questions is always a plus, because the kids like it and it makes you feel clever. Tests, like every other aspect of the classroom, have to
engage the students
.
    But a comprehensive exam is like a quiz on steroids. Because my Steinbeck exam is my first attempt at a unit test, I study quizzes and tests from the Internet and from my teachers’ textbooks as if I’m the one being tested. I ask some of the other English instructors what exactly they would include on the test. Their consensus is that students in the tenth grade should know the story, the characters, and vocabulary used in the book. But I also want my students to understand toneand mood, imagery, and all the figurative language. I have to make this test my own.
    The first section ends up being twenty questions on story points and background information. In the vocabulary section I use each target word in a sentence and ask for a choice of a corresponding word. To test command of figurative language, I pull passages from the book for the students to read and decide which literary term applies to each one. The final section asks them to describe the tone and mood of five different passages and decide which words appeal to which senses.
    When the test is finally written, I feel good about it. Now to prepare the class. Again,
engage the students
. Creativity counts.
    “Tomorrow,” I announce, “we’re going to do a final review for your
Of Mice and Men
exam.” As usual, groans and moans. I hold up my hand like a policeman. “Relax, the bunch of you. The review will be a scavenger hunt.”
    They look at each other. Not everyone knows what a scavenger hunt is. I don’t explain, just break them into six teams and tell everybody to meet for class the next morning at the baseball bleachers behind school. After class I fill one paper bag for each team with a map of the school showing the test station locations, a passport with a picture of everyone on the team, a page for each challenge, a pack of Post-its, and two Sharpies. I fill burlap bags with sand and lean on Dr. G., the science teacher, to loan me a couple of his live hamsters to stand in for dead mice. I recruit teachers, guards, and anyone else I can nab to serve as “station monitors.”
    The next morning rewards me with beautiful crisp October weather. Everybody’s present, and when they’ve assembled on the bleachers, I read out the basic rules. “At six different locations throughout the school you will meet challenges related to
Of Mice and Men
. When your team has passed each challenge, the stationmonitor will stamp your passport and give you the clue to your next location. There is to be absolutely
no
running in the hallways, no loud or disruptive noise, and no leaving campus. Your team has to stay together, and all team members must be at the station when you complete the task in order to receive your stamp. Finally, each team must show integrity. You know what that means? That’s your word of the day.”
    I’ve never seen these kids so energized by a class. As I hand each team their closed bag of equipment, they taunt each other. “You goin’ down!” “I got this one. The rest of you losers might as well quit now.” “Just you wait,