Why Can Some Kids Handle Pressure While Others Fall Apart?
Platon for The New York Times
By PO BRONSON and ASHLEY MERRYMAN
Published: February 6, 2013 404 Comments
Noah Muthler took his first state standardized test in third grade at
the Spring Cove Elementary School in Roaring Spring, Pa. It was a
miserable experience, said his mother, Kathleen Muthler. He was a good
student in a program for gifted children. But, Muthler said, “he was
crying in my arms the night before the test, saying: ‘I’m not ready,
Mom. They didn’t teach us everything that will be on the test.’ ” In
fourth grade, he was upset the whole week before the exam. “He manifests
it physically,” his mother said. “He got headaches and stomachaches. He
would ask not to go to school.” Not a good sleeper anyway, Noah would
slip downstairs after an hour tossing in bed and ask his mom to lie down
with him until he fell asleep. In fifth grade, the anxiety lasted a
solid month before the test. “Even after the test, he couldn’t let it
go. He would wonder about questions he feared he misunderstood,” Muthler
said.
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So this year, Muthler is opting Noah out of the Pennsylvania System of
School Assessment, using a broad religious and ethical exemption. Just
knowing he won’t be taking the tests in March has put Noah in a better
frame of mind about school. “The pressure is off his shoulders now,” his
mother said. When he doesn’t grasp a concept immediately, he can talk
it through without any panic. “He looks forward to science class and
math class again,” Muthler said. “He wants to be a chemical or nuclear
engineer.”
Muthler understands Noah’s distress; more mysterious is why her son
Jacob, who is in eighth grade, isn’t the least bit unnerved by the same
tests. He, too, is in the gifted program, but that seems to give him
breezy confidence, not fear. “You would think he doesn’t even care,”
Muthler marveled. “Noah has the panic and anxiety for both of them.”
Nevertheless, she will opt out Jacob from the tests, too, to be
consistent.
Never before has the pressure to perform on high-stakes tests been so
intense or meant so much for a child’s academic future. As more school
districts strive for accountability, standardized tests have
proliferated. The pressure to do well on achievement tests for college
is filtering its way down to lower grades, so that even third graders
feel as if they are on trial. Students get the message that class work
isn’t what counts, and that the standardized exam is the truer measure.
Sure, you did your homework and wrote a great history report — but this
test is going to find out how smart you really are. Critics argue that all this test-taking is churning out sleep-deprived, overworked, miserable children.
But some children actually do better under competitive, stressful
circumstances. Why can Jacob thrive under pressure, while it undoes
Noah? And how should that difference inform the way we think about
high-stakes testing? An emerging field of research — and a pioneering
study from Taiwan — has begun to offer some clues. Like any kind of
human behavior, our response to competitive pressure is derived from a
complex set of factors — how we were raised, our skills and experience,
the hormones that we marinated in as fetuses. There is also a genetic
component: One particular gene, referred to as the COMT gene, could to a
large degree explain why one child is more prone to be a worrier, while
another may be unflappable, or in the memorable phrasing of David
Goldman, a geneticist at the National Institutes of Health, more of a
warrior.
Understanding their propensity to become stressed and how to deal with
it can help children compete. Stress turns out to be far more
complicated than we’ve assumed, and far more under our control than we
imagine. Unlike long-term stress, short-term stress can actually help
people perform, and viewing it that way changes its effect. Even for
those genetically predisposed to anxiety, the antidote isn’t necessarily
less competition — it’s more competition. It just needs to be the right kind.
Every May in Taiwan, more than 200,000 ninth-grade
children take the Basic Competency Test for Junior High School Students.
This is not just any test. The scores will determine which high school
the students are admitted to — or if they get into one at all. Only 39
percent of Taiwanese children make the cut, with the rest diverted to
vocational schools or backup private schools. The test, in essence,
determines the future for Taiwanese children.
The test is incredibly difficult; answering the multiple-choice
questions requires knowledge of chemistry, physics, advanced algebra and
geometry, and testing lasts for two days. “Many students go to cram
school almost every night to study all the subjects on the test,” says
Chun-Yen Chang, director of the Science Education Center at National
Taiwan Normal University. “Just one or two percentage points difference
will drag you from the No. 1 high school in the local region down to No.
3 or 4.”