One of the hidden classroom casualties of the No Child Left Behind law is creative writing. Research papers? Check. Thesis statements and five-paragraph themes? Check. Literature? Check. Creative Writing? It’s not on the test — so who has time?

I didn’t recognize the deficit until last week, while trying to compile entries for the Virginia High School League creative writing contest. For most of the past 15 years, I have had no difficulty collecting two poems, two essays, and two short stories from Oakton High School students for this portfolio contest.

All that has changed. On March 14, a day before the contest deadline, I was in possession of a few poems (many fewer than usual) and, alarmingly, only one short story. This was after a couple of all-calls to our 19 English teachers. I am used to having dozens of possible submissions, but this year teachers wanted to know if we could include research papers, or literary criticism.

Yikes! Where are the poems of yesteryear?

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Not too long ago teachers vied for the honor of having “their” poet or storyteller represented in the portfolio. Now they barely remember what creative writing is. I take that back — they do remember, most just don’t have time to include it in their curriculum.

I brought this up over lunch last week. Mike, one of our young, hip teachers, observed, “Teaching students to write fiction takes a lot of time. And it’s not on the SOL test, so I just don’t do it.”

The others in the teachers’ lounge nodded sadly. Mike then added, “Now I really feel guilty. In fact, I feel terrible.” Mike is an excellent teacher and includes lots of innovative techniques in his classroom, but he confirmed what I was beginning to suspect — English teachers now focus on literature, research, and writing five paragraph essays because those are on the SOLs.

Creative writing has been pushed to the side.

I, too, have succumbed to test pressure. I have always been proud of the writing portfolios my students produce in an Advanced Placement course where poems and other fictional writing are not part of the required curriculum.

But this year I cut the number of writing workshops from six to four. I told myself it was because a few students consider these workshops permission to waste time, and that has certainly always been true.

But precisely because that’s always been true, I now realize that I bowed to the pressure of high-stakes testing by reducing in-class writing groups. A few distracted students made me worry: Was this the best use of classroom time? Shouldn’t we instead be talking about a novel, or reading John Donne?

I mailed off six pieces of creative writing by the March 15 deadline, but it was like pulling teeth to find them.

Sometimes I hope that if I shut my eyes, this testing obsession will disappear, and we can return to the business of providing the very best educational experience possible, as defined by the schools and not the government. And that would include writing poems, song lyrics, and short stories as well as essays and research papers.

Erica Jacobs teaches at Oakton High School and George Mason University. Email her at ejacob1@gmu.edu.