How do you know if you've learned something? Think of yourself and your own experiences. It could be in school or in college or at home or at work or at the beach or anywhere. Think about something you know and understand very well--how did you learn that? Think about a time when someone tried to teach you something--like how to wash clothes, or how to fix something, or how to download a file on a computer. How do you know when you have learned something? How can you prove that you have learned something?
Now let's look at our students (and our schools) and the question becomes, How do we (the educators) know that our students are actually learning? How can we prove or demonstrate that they have actually learned something? And does this "proof" really demonstrate learning; or does it merely give the appearance of learning?
Of course, I am describing exactly the method that our public schools use to help us to make these determinations of learning. Often, sadly, the end result of this process is a single letter grade. So the challenge is, Does this single letter grade accurately describe the student's ability? When it does, we have succeeded in communicating real learning; when it doesn't we have only communicated the appearance of learning.
So the next question is: Who cares if the "B" or the "A" represents real learning or the appearance of learning. If a child receives the same rewards (such as college admittance), then it doesn't matter if the learning was real or perceived. The difference is, real learning is lasting and real learning can lead to future learning that builds on previous learning. The mere appearance of learning is fleeting. Eventually the student will reach a point where he or she will no longer be able to keep up the appearance of learning.
As a country, we can argue (and we do) over the purpose and validity of testing and grades and homework and course content and so many other aspects of our P-12 experience. I believe that such arguments are generally good for the democratic purpose and I hope that such well-meaning arguments lead to better schools. However, I would contend that such arguments should focus on helping our students to truly learn and attain knowledge. When we (for instance) argue against a particular test because we fear that it will expose that our students are not as able as we want to think that they are, I would suggest that that is the wrong reason for refusing such a test.
As hard as it can be for some of us, we have to be honest with ourselves and with our children. The goal shouldn't be to "win" at all costs. The goal should be to learn. School shouldn't be a competition against each other. School should be about learning--and only about learning.