There’s a troubling disconnect at my school: despite consistently high student grades, our SBAC scores continue to trend downward, placing us in Tier 2 status. This apparent mismatch between grades and test scores feeds into a dangerous narrative—one that claims grade inflation is rampant, that teachers aren’t rigorous enough, and that standardised tests are the only true measure of student learning. What gets ignored in this conversation, however, is how these tests, like the SBAC, systematically fail to honour Individualised Education Plans (IEPs) with full fidelity. My school has a higher-than-average number of students with IEPs, most of whom are identified with Specific Learning Disabilities (SLDs), yet these needs are overlooked in the one-size-fits-all approach of standardised testing.
To unpack this issue, I’ll be using the Power Threat Meaning Framework (PTMF) alongside Critical Theory. These perspectives help expose the lie of ‘objectivity’ in testing, revealing instead how these so-called neutral tools perpetuate segregation and inequality. Far from being a fair or accurate assessment of student ability, standardised tests are designed to maintain existing power structures, penalising those who don’t fit neatly into the narrow, neurotypical standards they enforce. This isn’t just about test scores—it’s about how we choose to value, or devalue, entire groups of students, particularly those with disabilities.
The Myth of Objectivity in Standardised Testing
The prevailing narrative surrounding standardised testing is that it provides an objective, impartial measure of student knowledge and ability. It’s often sold as the great equaliser, a scientific tool that can sort students based on merit alone. But let’s be clear—this is a myth. Standardised testing isn’t about fairness or accuracy; it’s about control. Through a Critical Theory lens, we can see how these tests serve capitalist and eugenicist interests, maintaining rigid social hierarchies by privileging certain types of knowledge—mainly, the ability to take tests—over other valuable skills like creativity, critical thinking, or problem-solving.
Standardised testing is fundamentally about compliance. It forces students to conform to a narrow set of criteria, reducing them to data points that can be measured, sorted, and ranked. It’s not designed to encourage holistic learning or to meet students where they are. Instead, it places them into rigid categories, reinforcing systems of exclusion for those who don’t fit the mould—especially students with disabilities or those who learn in ways that don’t align with the neurotypical, mainstream standards these tests are built on. This plays into a broader capitalist agenda: students who score well on these tests are rewarded, groomed for the workforce, while those who don’t are left behind, written off as underachievers.
At my school, where student grades are relatively high but SBAC scores lag behind, this myth of objectivity becomes particularly harmful. Teachers work closely with students, personalising instruction to fit their unique needs and helping them make real, measurable progress. But standardised tests like the SBAC discount all of that hard work, focusing solely on how well students can perform under strict, high-pressure conditions. The tests don’t account for the individual growth we see reflected in their grades. Instead, they devalue our professional judgment, reducing the complex, nuanced reality of student learning to a set of numbers that don’t even acknowledge the accommodations students with IEPs are entitled to. In this way, standardised tests uphold an oppressive system that sorts students not by their potential, but by their ability to conform to a set of arbitrary, exclusionary standards.
Discorrelation Between Grades and Standardised Test Scores
At my school, there’s a stark and troubling disconnect between student grades and SBAC test scores. Our students generally perform well in class, with high grades reflecting their effort, progress, and individual growth. Yet, despite these strong grades, the school’s SBAC scores continue to decline, leading to a Tier 2 placement. This discorrelation between classroom performance and standardised test results is not just a quirk of the system—it’s a symptom of a larger issue with how student learning is measured.
Most teachers at my school follow the Equity Grading and Instruction (EGI) model, which focuses on fairness and mastery. It allows students to retake assessments multiple times, giving them the chance to truly learn and demonstrate mastery over time, rather than punishing them for a poor performance on a single test. Students are also encouraged to demonstrate their understanding in multiple ways—not just through complex, overly wordy, and purposefully tricky multiple-choice tests or long writing prompts, but through projects, presentations, or other formats that suit their strengths. This approach recognises that learning is a process and that students need opportunities to grow, rather than be confined to rigid, high-stakes assessments.
The SBAC, however, doesn’t account for any of this. It’s a one-size-fits-all test that offers no flexibility for students with different learning profiles or needs, particularly those with IEPs. The accommodations that these students are entitled to are often not honoured with full fidelity during testing, meaning that many students, especially those with SLDs, are at a significant disadvantage from the start. The SBAC doesn’t reflect the growth these students have made in the classroom, or the progress they’ve achieved in reaching their learning targets. Instead, it reduces their performance to a narrow set of criteria that doesn’t align with their unique educational journey, further skewing the results and perpetuating the false narrative that grades are inflated while test scores reveal the ‘truth.’
Power, Threat, and Meaning: The Psychological Impact
The PTMF provides a critical lens through which we can understand the psychological toll this disconnect between grades and standardised test scores takes on students, especially those with IEPs. In this context, Power is wielded by the testing system, which determines the academic worth of students, teachers, and entire schools based on narrow, arbitrary criteria. This power disregards the holistic progress students make throughout the year and instead reduces their abilities to a set of test scores. The SBAC and similar tests hold immense authority over how students see themselves and how they are perceived by others, forcing compliance with standards that are fundamentally misaligned with the needs of many students, particularly those with neurodiverse profiles.
For students, this creates a constant Threat—the threat of failure, of being labeled as ‘underperforming’ or ‘low-achieving,’ despite the effort they put in and the progress they’ve shown in class. For students with IEPs, this threat is magnified. They are forced to confront the reality that no matter how hard they work, standardised tests fail to accommodate their learning profiles or honour the supports they need. As a result, they are left vulnerable to labels that not only misrepresent their abilities but also limit their future opportunities. This perpetual threat only grows as the school ramps up its ‘interventions’ in response to our Tier 2 status, implementing tools like iReady and IXL that further alienate these students. These programs are not aligned with their learning styles and serve as a stark reminder of the power imbalance between the students and the testing system.
The Meaning students make from these experiences can be deeply damaging. For those with IEPs, this relentless failure to meet standardised metrics creates a sense of worthlessness. It reinforces internalised ableism and feelings of exclusion, as they see themselves repeatedly falling short in a system that was never built for them. The trauma of being denied recognition for their progress, forced into rigid benchmarks that ignore their individual growth, leaves lasting scars. They may start to believe that the test scores, not their classroom achievements, define their true abilities. This distortion of meaning undermines the hard work of teachers and students alike and perpetuates a system that fails to honour the full potential of all learners.
The Role of Segregation in Standardised Testing
Standardised testing has long been a tool of segregation, both academically and socially, and Critical Theory helps us unpack how these mechanisms continue to operate today. Historically, standardisation in education has been used as a method of control, ensuring that marginalised groups—whether by race, class, or ability—remain at a disadvantage. From the early 20th-century IQ tests that reinforced racial hierarchies to today’s high-stakes exams that exclude students with disabilities, these systems uphold an oppressive structure designed to sort students into hierarchies of worth. The same mechanisms of exclusion are at play today for neurodiverse students, especially those with IEPs.
Standardised tests like the SBAC serve as gatekeepers to higher education and advanced academic programmes. These tests favour students from neuro-majority backgrounds who fit neatly into the rigid frameworks of test-taking and academic performance, leaving students with disabilities on the outside looking in. The emphasis on test scores as a primary measure of success works to uphold white, neurotypical, and capitalist norms, sidelining those who learn differently. Students with disabilities, who may need multiple opportunities to demonstrate mastery or different modes of assessment entirely, are penalised because their learning does not align with the narrow, standardised criteria imposed by these tests. Instead of fostering inclusion, standardised testing reinforces segregation, ensuring that only those who conform to these norms are given opportunities to advance.
This form of gatekeeping disproportionately harms schools like mine, where a higher percentage of students have IEPs or come from marginalised backgrounds (Title 1). As these students inevitably struggle to meet the arbitrary benchmarks of standardised tests, our school is stigmatised and placed in lower tiers, triggering resource deprivation and further punitive measures. The cycle is self-perpetuating: schools that serve marginalised communities are labeled as ‘failing,’ leading to reduced funding and harsher scrutiny, which in turn makes it harder for these schools to support their students. Standardised testing, far from being a neutral measure, plays a central role in maintaining educational segregation, reproducing inequality, and blocking access to meaningful opportunities for students who need the most support.
What a More Just System Would Look Like
A more just education system would begin by truly valuing and honouring the diversity of learners, something that both the PTMF and Critical Theory call for. Instead of relying on rigid, standardised tests that reinforce exclusion, we need assessments that are trauma-informed and holistic, recognising each student’s unique strengths, challenges, and starting points. The current one-size-fits-all approach fails to acknowledge the diverse ways students learn and demonstrate mastery, particularly those with disabilities or neurodiverse profiles. Shifting towards formative assessments, which allow for continuous feedback and growth, would empower students and teachers alike, fostering an environment where progress is recognised in its many forms—not just through test scores.
At my school, students engage in a wide array of learning experiences that go far beyond what a standardised test can measure. We have art gallery shows, an award-winning theatre programme, and one of only two working farms in our district as part of the AgriScience Pathway. Students learn through hands-on, project-based work that builds not only academic skills but also creativity, collaboration, and critical thinking—yet none of these valuable experiences count in assessing their learning or growth. The SBAC measures none of this, reducing students to a number that doesn’t reflect the richness of their educational journey.
A more equitable system would elevate teacher-assessed progress, which takes into account not just what students can do on a test, but how far they have come. This is particularly important for students with disabilities, whose achievements often can’t be captured by standardised tests. Fidelity to IEPs and accommodations must be integral to any fair assessment of student performance. We need a system that includes multiple ways for students to demonstrate mastery, whether through creative projects, presentations, or real-world applications of their skills. By recognising these broader forms of learning, we would move towards an education system that supports all students, celebrates their individual growth, and dismantles the rigid hierarchies that standardised testing currently upholds.
Final thoughts …
Standardised testing, far from being an objective measure of student knowledge, perpetuates segregation and exclusion, particularly for students with IEPs. Throughout this discussion, we’ve seen how the myth of objectivity serves to reinforce social hierarchies, pushing neurodiverse students and those from marginalised backgrounds further to the margins. These tests not only fail to recognise individual growth and learning but also inflict psychological harm, creating a system where many students are set up to feel like failures, despite their progress in the classroom. The power these tests hold over students, teachers, and schools is disproportionate, leading to harmful cycles of stigmatisation, resource deprivation, and trauma.
It’s clear that standardised tests, as they are currently implemented, are not neutral tools. They are mechanisms of control that privilege a narrow view of intelligence and ability while excluding those who don't conform to these rigid standards. We must demand a fundamental shift in how we assess student achievement—one that values growth, context, and individuality over compliance with a flawed metric.
As educators, policymakers, and community members, we must advocate for an education system that truly honours the full potential of all students. It’s time to dismantle these oppressive structures and build a more just, equitable system where every learner is recognised, supported, and celebrated for who they are.