Fred Aiken Writing

I immediately resented ever being handed a pencil. The sound of the graphite against stale paper drove me mad as a child. 

But my teachers never wanted to give me a pen.

In 3rd grade, Ms. Contreras always said I needed to show my work, so I needed an eraser in order to cover up my mistakes. I didn’t understand how that was showing my work, since my mistakes were a part of the process to getting to the right answer, at least for me. I never had the right answer off the bat.

When I found pens that had erasers, I thought it was a godsend. I immediately had my parents buy as many pen-eraser combos as they’d let me, and I assumed I’d never have to deal with another pencil for the rest of my life. Problem solved for life. 

Then at the end of the school year my peers and I were introduced to standardized testing for the first time. “You’ll need a #2 pencil for the test,” Ms. Contreras said.

I asked why. Her face turned red, and I’m pretty sure if she would’ve been holding a pencil in her hands it would’ve snapped. She pursed her lips, straightened out her skirt, and cleared her throat before responding, “Because, the computer can only recognize bubbles when they’re filled in by #2 pencils.”

“But aren’t computers supposed to be smart?”

“They are. But these particular computers that read y’all’s tests only work when you use a #2 pencil.”

“But you would be able to read the test if I filled it out in pen?”

“Yes, but…”

“So, that means you’re better at reading tests than this computer, which only function is to read tests.”

“Do not, I repeat, do not fill out your test in any other writing utensil other than a #2 pencil.”

“I just don’t understand. You admitted that you could read it if it was done in pen.”

“I’m required to run it through the computer. So if you use a pen, or any other writing utensil other than a #2 pencil, then you will fail the test and possibly be held back a year. All your friends will move on and you’ll have to repeat the 3rd grade again.”

It wasn’t a great motivator to tell me I’d never have to see my classmates again. They had spent the past year mocking my collection of Pokemon cards and ostracizing me from most, if not all, social circles because of how poor my parents were, as if it were contagious. Needless to say, I made a point to use my pen with an eraser for every standardized test.