This 10th grade test item is a sample of the type of passage provided by PARCC (The Partnership for Assessment of Readiness for College and Careers, a consortium of 23 states plus the U.S. Virgin Islands), to assess student proficiency on the Common Cores State Standards. PARCC calls this a "grade-level complex literary text." Truth of the matter: They probably chose it because it's in the public domain and there's no reprint fee.
Hey, teachers in Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Dictrict of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maryland, Massachusetts, Mississippi, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Tennessee, and the Virgin Islands: Are you ready for Ovid?
According to Wikipedia, Ovid's Metaphorphoses was completed in AD8 and is recognized as a masterpiece of Golden Age Latin literature. It was one of the most-read of all classical works-- during the Middle Ages.
I wonder why PARCC doesn't see fit to inform the reader that the translation they're using to test students is the Brookes More translation, produced in 1922. I've posted a prose translation by Mary Innes below. On an exam, the University of Nottingham gave students the original and asked them to evaluate these two translations. Note: these university students were enrolled in the classics department. I used to do this sort of thing with third graders and fairy tales: Look at different versions and decide which is more effective--and why. I have 32 versions of The Three Little Pigs, surely, with Mama Pig announcing to her three children that it's time for them to move out and seek their own fortunes, a tale for our time. But truth be told, my students loved finding variant texts on their own. One Monday, Dougie, repeating 3rd grade and not a fan of school, came in beaming. "You'll never guess what I did! I got my mom to take me to a library 30 miles from here. And I've got a different version!"
Now that's reading excitement.
Modest Proposal: Perhaps if teachers share this Titian painting inspired by Metamophoses one of two things will result:
1) it will inspire student reading.
2) it will provoke irate parents to get the work banned.
You can go here for PARCC's questions and guide to the right answers to these questions.
I remind Chicago Teachers that the CTU Quest Center provides Q and A on the Common Core, including advice on how to help students with special needs with the Common Core curriculum:
Q. What should I do to meet the needs of my special education students?
A: The standards were written with the assumption that with appropriate accommodations all students, including those with exceptional needs, can achieve them. You should continue to differentiate your instruction, following all IEP requirements, goals, and modifications, and implement "best practices" in your curriculum to meet the needs of all your learners.
Question: What would "appropriate accommodations" for reading Ovid be for students with exceptional needs?
Question: What would "appropriate accommodations" for reading Ovid be for any tenth grader?
And I have another question: President Obama says Race to the Top and the Common Core are part of "a national mission to educate our kids and train our workers better than anybody else in the world. I want to recruit 100,000 math and science teachers, train 2 million workers at our community colleges to get the skills they need for the jobs that are hiring right now."
President Obama, just how does reading Ovid cut the mustard here?
PARCC insists that Ovid "aligns to the PARCC Reading Literature Assessment claim because it is based on
on a complex literary text. It aligns to the standards and evidence statements listed in that the item requires students to recognize a theme of a literary text and to find detailed support to show how that theme is developed."
PARCC offers no evidence showing how this educates and trains kids "better than anybody else in the world."
What bothers me most of all about this as a test item is the kind of reading students will have to endure--starting in kindergarten-- to get ready for such a test.
Our U. S. Department of Education shelled out nearly $200 million of our tax dollars to PARCC to come up with this sort of thing.
Ovid's Metamorphoses : Daedalus and Icarus
Translated by Brookes More, public domain
But Daedalus abhorred the Isle of Crete--
290 and his long exile on that sea-girt shore,
increased the love of his own native place.
"Though Minos blocks escape by sea and land."
He said, "The unconfined skies remain
though Minos may be lord of all the world
295 his sceptre is not regnant of the air,
and by that untried way is our escape."
This said, he turned his mind to arts unknown
and nature unrevealed. He fashioned quills
and feathers in due order -- deftly formed
300 from small to large, as any rustic pipe
prom straws unequal slants. He bound with thread
the middle feathers, and the lower fixed
with pliant wax; till so, in gentle curves
arranged, he bent them to the shape of birds.
305 While he was working, his son Icarus,
with smiling countenance and unaware
of danger to himself, perchance would chase
the feathers, ruffled by the shifting breeze,
or soften with his thumb the yellow wax,
310 and by his playfulness retard the work
his anxious father planned.
But when at last
the father finished it, he poised himself,
and lightly floating in the winnowed air
315 waved his great feathered wings with bird-like ease.
And, likewise he had fashioned for his son
such wings; before they ventured in the air
he said, "My son, I caution you to keep
the middle way, for if your pinions dip
320 too low the waters may impede your flight;
and if they soar too high the sun may scorch them.
Fly midway. Gaze not at the boundless sky,
far Ursa Major and Bootes next.
Nor on Orion with his flashing brand,
325 but follow my safe guidance."
As he spoke
he fitted on his son the plumed wings
with trembling hands, while down his withered cheeks
the tears were falling. Then he gave his son
330 a last kiss, and upon his gliding wings
assumed a careful lead solicitous.
As when the bird leads forth her tender young,
from high-swung nest to try the yielding air;
so he prevailed on willing Icarus;
335 encouraged and instructed him in a]l
the fatal art; and as he waved his wings
looked backward on his son.
Beneath their flight,
the fisherman while casting his long rod,
340 or the tired shepherd leaning on his crook,
or the rough plowman as he raised his eyes,
astonished might observe them on the wing,
and worship them as Gods.
Upon the left
345 they passed by Samos, Juno's sacred isle;
Delos and Paros too, were left behind;
and on the right Lebinthus and Calymne,
fruitful in honey. Proud of his success,
the foolish Icarus forsook his guide,
350 and, bold in vanity, began to soar,
rising upon his wings to touch the skies;
but as he neared the scorching sun, its heat
softened the fragrant wax that held his plumes;
and heat increasing melted the soft wax--
355 he waved his naked arms instead of wings,
with no more feathers to sustain his flight.
And as he called upon his father's name
his voice was smothered in the dark blue sea,
now called Icarian from the dead boy's name.
360 The unlucky father, not a father, called,
"Where are you, Icarus?" and "Where are you?
In what place shall I seek you, Icarus?"
He called again; and then he saw the wings
of his dear Icarus, floating on the waves;
365 and he began to rail and curse his art.
He found the body on an island shore,
now called Icaria, and at once prepared
to bury the unfortunate remains;
but while he labored a pert partridge near,
370 observed him from the covert of an oak,
and whistled his unnatural delight.
Know you the cause? 'Twas then a single bird,
the first one of its kind. 'Twas never seen
before the sister of Daedalus had brought
375 him Perdix, her dear son, to be his pupil.
And as the years went by the gifted youth
began to rival his instructor's art.
He took the jagged backbone of a fish,
and with it as a model made a saw,
380 with sharp teeth fashioned from a strip of iron.
And he was first to make two arms of iron,
smooth hinged upon the center, so that one
would make a pivot while the other, turned,
described a circle. Wherefore Daedalus
385 enraged and envious, sought to slay the youth
and cast him headlong from Minerva's fane,--
then spread the rumor of an accident.
But Pallas, goddess of ingenious men,
saving the pupil changed him to a bird,
390 and in the middle of the air he flew
on feathered wings; and so his active mind--
and vigor of his genius were absorbed
into his wings and feet; although the name
of Perdix was retained.
395 The Partridge hides
in shaded places by the leafy trees
its nested eggs among the bush's twigs;
nor does it seek to rise in lofty flight,
for it is mindful of its former fall.
Translated by Mary Innes, 1955
Meanwhile Daedalus, tired of Crete and of his long absence from home, was filled with longing for his own country, but he was shut in by the sea. Then he said: “The king may block my way by land or across the ocean, but the sky, surely, is open, and that is how we shall go. Minos may possess all the rest, but he does not possess the air.” With these words, he set his mind to sciences never explored before, and altered the laws of nature. He laid down a row of feathers, beginning with tiny ones, and gradually increasing their length, so that the edge seemed to slope upwards. In the same way, the pipe which shepherds used to play is built up from reeds, each slightly longer than the last. Then he fastened the feathers together in the middle with thread, and at the bottom with wax; when he had arranged them in this way, he bent them round into a gentle curve, to look like real birds’ wings. His son Icarus stood beside him and, not knowing that the materials he was handling were to endanger his life, laughingly captured the feathers which blew away in the wind, or softened the yellow wax with his thumb, and by his pranks hindered the marvellous work on which his father was engaged.
When Daedalus had put the finishing touches to his invention, he raised himself into the air, balancing his body on his two wings, and there he hovered, moving his feathers up and down. Then he prepared his son to fly too. “I warn you, Icarus,” he said, “you must follow a course midway between earth and heaven, in case the sun should scorch your feathers, if you go too high, or the water make them heavy if you are too low. And pay no attention to the stars, to Bootes, or Helice or Orion with his drawn sword: take me as your guide, and follow me!”
While he was giving Icarus these instructions on how to fly, Daedalus was at the same time fastening the novel wings on his son’s shoulders. As he worked and talked the old man’s cheeks were wet with tears, and his fatherly affection made his hands tremble. He kissed his son, whom he was never to kiss again: then, raising himself on his wings, flew in front, showing anxious concern for his companion, just like a bird who has brought her tender fledgelings out of their nest in the treetops, and launched them into the air. He urged Icarus to follow close, and instructed him in the art that was to be his ruin, moving his own wings and keeping a watchful eye on those of his son behind him. Some fisher, perhaps, plying his quivering rod, some shepherd leaning on his staff, or a peasant bent over his plough handle caught sight of them as they flew past and stood stock still in astonishment, believing that these creatures who could fly through the air must be gods.
Now Juno’s sacred isle of Samos lay on the left, Delos and Paros were already behind them, and Lebinthos was on their right hand, along with Calymne, rich in honey, when the boy Icarus began to enjoy the thrill of swooping boldly through the air. Drawn on by his eagerness for the open sky, he left his guide and soared upwards, till he came too close to the blazing sun, and it softened the sweet-smelling wax that bound his wings together. The wax melted. Icarus moved his bare arms up and down, but without their feathers they had no purchase on the air. Even as his lips were crying his father’s name, they were swallowed up in the deep blue waters which are called after him. The unhappy father, a father no longer, cried out: “Icarus!” “Icarus,” he called. “Where are you? Where am I to look for you?” As he was still calling “Icarus” he saw the feathers on the water, and cursed his inventive skill. He laid his son to rest in a tomb, and the land took its name from that of the boy who was buried there.
