The Lie of the Bubble

Tomorrow is bubble day.
Not the fun kind of soapy bubbles that glisten in the sunlight (unfortunately).
But the kind of uniformly-printed lines of bubbles that come with standardized testing.
Way less fun, let me tell you.

I’m not going to lie. It’s not the most inspiring day of my year.
Our population isn’t too smitten with filling in test grids with no.2 pencils (is anyone?).
And it can be a little depressing, when the results come out, to see our scores printed in the papers.
To hear that our alternative gig failed to make the magic “AYP” (Adequate Yearly Progress) status mandated by No Child Left Behind …again.

The problem of course, which is so systemic the country could choke on it, is that bubble-grids don’t measure all the kinds of progress that there are in life.

• There is no bubble that reflects the progress of a kid still being ALIVE, when there was a good chance based on his activity and the activity of his family, that he might not be.
• There is no bubble that reflects the progress of the student who gave birth to her third child, but still gets up every morning–even in the winter–to drag all of them to the busstop to get them to daycare so she can finish high school.
• There is no bubble to reflect the progress of the young man who just got off tether and finished his probation, making him the only child in his family who is not currently locked up.

Bubbles–societal expectations, industry norms, conventional cookie-cutter methods for measuring progress–don’t measure everything. Not for my students…but not for me or my friends in the Christian subculture or writing field either.

Fair warning, my friends: there may be times in life when the projects we’re pursuing are real and noble and right, but the progress doesn’t show up in the bubbles.

But before you let your enthusiasm be crushed by the lie of the bubble, you might consider the flip side.

It is possible to have all the earmarks of “success” and still have nothing.

• We can be famous, but not invested in our families.
• Our events can be well-attended, but not transformative.
• Our intelligence and talent can soar, but our hearts and our souls might be empty.
• We could be hearing the applause of the blogosphere and twitter-world, but have no idea when the last time was when we heard the voice of God.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve decided since the bubbles are a dice roll anyways, that I’d rather chase the stuff that is hot in my conscience, I’d rather cling to that moral compass that keeps us human, and let the bubbles say what they may. After all, how long do bubbles really last anyways?

What about you? Want to join me? I’m hoping to find a few fellow bubble poppers along the way.