Last month I attended a talk given by a young speaker with amazing presentation skills. She spoke to preschool teachers about how "No Child Left Behind" was the best idea to come to America EVER.

I was skeptical. For the last nine months, I've heard teachers and administrators express nothing but frustration and concern about Bush's plan. I've heard it called "No Child Left Untested" and "No Teachers Left." It's responsible for an increase in testing and has made the stress levels of students, parents, teachers and administrators soar.

This young woman made the plan sound great. In principle, it is. Who doesn't want to make sure all our children are equally well-educated and prepared for their futures? But there's a scary bottom line lurking below the bright surface. Schools that can't show 100% mastery by 2010, will be taken over by government agencies.

The speaker went on to explain that even before that date, parents unsatisfied with their child's performance could make the school transport their children to another school, or pay for "the most expensive tutor you can find."

"This can't be true," I thought. But sure enough, there it was in the government-released printed matter. Again, this sounds great on paper, but the financial burden of this war on education falls on state and local governments.

The presenter told her audience they could make money. The truth is the "good" schools will be monetarily rewarded, the "bad" schools will be punished with a take over. The educators who most fear the threat of government-control are schools with students who have high economic, intellectual, and experiential needs. While no one would argue with the necessity of equal playing field, there's been no attempt made to equalize the differences that already exist, or to give poor schools any special consideration. One teacher told me, "It won't take long for them to discover they've created a monster."

If only "No Child Left Behind" sent failing schools an army of the best teachers in America, or reduced class sizes, or poured money into the budgets of poor schools. Instead, financial and emotional resources are stretched to breaking. Schools like this often react to this fear by adopting a dull skill-drill curriculum which targets passing tests. Students drift even further away from wanting to learn.

I began teaching writing in North Carolina thirteen years ago, when "No Child Left Behind" was just a twinkle in some politician's eye. Even then teachers worried about lack of student motivation and school readiness, and wondered how they could compensate.

Four years ago, when testing was on the horizon, the schools I visited seemed tense and administrators were desperate to find "the answer" to coming challenges. Two years ago, testing heated up, and I witnessed a frightening depression in schools. In the last year, I've seen teachers who are actively looking for a way out. Most entered the field because they loved to teach and loved to watch children learn. "No Child Left Behind" kills both these passions as it pairs hard-to-engage children with a test-driven, meaningless curriculum.

The fourth day of this school year, I visited a third grade. The class was learning how to "bubble", darkening the little circles on test forms. "That's a bonding experience," I remarked sarcastically. The teacher shook her head in sad agreement and asked, "What can I do, they're being tested tomorrow?"

Twice last month I answered pleas to proctor exams at Chapel Hill High. "Why do we need so many proctors?" I asked at a PTSA meeting. The obvious answer came quickly, "Because there are so many more tests!"

Accountability is one thing, continual curriculum interruption is another. A recent test I proctored was one in a string of tests which came after a series of practice tests which came after more general test prep . The test administrator began by telling students how important the results were to the school's profile and to older students applying to colleges. It was strange to hear her make a case for taking the test seriously, but these students were so worn out from continuous testing, it was hard for them to care and muster the motivation for yet another testing session.

It didn't take me long to understand the administrator's appeal. I saw a student page through his test, put his head down, and get ready to sleep. The administrator came over and had a little chat with him. He paged through his booklet again, put down his head again, and drifted off to sleep for real.

Teachers and students have no power in this state. Only parents can make a difference. If we generated as many protest letters as the test pages our students face, maybe things would change.