The Art and Science of Testing: Why the Way We Evaluate Children Matters

Parents often ask me how testing actually works, especially when they are worried their child might be anxious, shy, resistant, silly, wiggly, or just very much themselves in a new room with a stranger.

I completely get it. Most of the time, parents are not actually worried that their child cannot do the activities. They are worried that their child won't feel comfortable enough to show what they can do. They sit in my office and wonder: What if they will not separate from me? What if they just refuse? What if they get really silly, or completely shut down? What if they are just having a terrible off day?

These are all incredibly real concerns, and they are also exactly why the way an evaluation is done matters so much.

There is both an art and a science to testing. The science is the standardized part, giving the tests correctly, looking at the scores, reviewing the data, and understanding the patterns across different areas. That part absolutely matters. It gives us reliable information about how a child thinks, learns, communicates, manages attention, and experiences the world.

But the art matters just as much.

The Art of Connection

The art is knowing how to help a child feel comfortable enough to show us who they really are. It is knowing when to be silly, when to slow down, when to offer choices, when to use a timer, and when to take a break. Some kids need a sticker plan. Some need to start with show and tell. Some need a parent nearby at first, and some just need a little time.

Often, I love to have the child bring in something special from home for a quick show and tell before we even look at any test materials. It gives them a chance to be the expert on something they love, and it gives us an easy, pressure free way to connect right from the start.

Sometimes we start with a game of Hurry Up Chicken Butt, Clack, giant Uno, or tiny Uno, whatever helps them warm up. If a child loves numbers, I will have number stickers ready. If they love timers, they can look through the prize box and pick one out. If they need predictability, we build in regular check ins. If they need autonomy, we create choices wherever we can.

Sometimes that flexibility looks a little unusual.

I have literally given tests under my very tall standing desk because, for that child, it became a cave where they felt safe. I have had children whisper answers to a small stuffed animal before they were ready to say them directly to me. I have stuffies with their own seats at the table so a child can teach them. We use magic wands as pointers. We show Paw Patrol figurines the answers because, obviously, dogs cannot read, so someone has to teach them the words. A child might race a snail squishy during a timed task, or try to answer before the pop up ball pops.

The point is not that every child needs all of these things. The point is that paying attention to what this particular child needs is just as important as the other data we gather. How they respond to support, what helps them settle, what makes a task harder, and what allows them to reengage all tell us something meaningful about how they learn and function.

Learning What Actually Works in Real Time

Some kids sit in a regular chair. Some use a wiggle seat. Some stand. Some move between tasks. These changes are not about changing what we are measuring, they are about helping the child’s body feel comfortable enough so their brain can do the work.

They also give me incredibly useful information. A wiggle seat might help one child focus, while another child spends the whole time sliding out of it. A fidget might be calming for one child and completely distracting for another. A Time Timer might make one child feel secure and make another child anxious.

Trying these supports in real time helps us move beyond generic, copy paste recommendations. Instead of assuming that every child with attention or regulation differences needs the exact same tools, we can begin to understand what is actually useful for this child, what is not, and what is worth trying at home or school.

Honesty and Respect for Older Kids and Teens

For older kids and teens, connection looks different. It might be a playful challenge related to their favorite game during a break, or letting them show me something they love, like hidden Easter eggs on websites. (If you do not know what those are, I did not either. They are little hidden jokes or surprises tucked into websites and games. Apparently, they are very funny, and honestly, you should look them up.) These moments seem small, but they matter. They help a teenager feel known and respected, and they make the room feel less like a place where an adult is just forcing them to perform.

This is also where experience comes in. I have been doing this work for more than 20 years, and I know the tests extremely well. The materials are still in front of me, and following the rules still matters, but I am not using all of my mental energy trying to remember what comes next. That means I can actually focus entirely on the child. I can notice when their body starts to get restless, when their confidence drops, when they need humor, or when they are ready for a challenge. I can be warm, silly, and playful while still being clinically careful.

When a child feels comfortable, we get an accurate picture of how they think. Comfort does not make the results "better" in an artificial way, it just creates the conditions for the child to participate naturally, so the information is truly representative of who they are.

This is also true for teenagers, especially the ones who do not really want to be there. With teens, honesty goes a long way. I tell them why they are there, what we are doing, and what the evaluation can and cannot be used for. Sometimes being direct is what helps most. Because I used to work in a men’s medium security prison, I have told teens that there is probably nothing they could say that would shock me. They love that, and it opens the door to a much more honest conversation.

Sitting on Your Side of the Table

While I look at all of this through a clinical lens, I also look at it as a parent. I am a mom of four children, a parent of a twice exceptional child, and a parent who has taken my own kids through evaluations.

I also have a 5 year old who is typically very outgoing and usually does amazingly well. But even she has her moments where none of my best mom tricks are working for her. It is fascinating because I know that her cooperation often looks totally different with me than it does with other adults.

I know exactly what it feels like to sit on the parent side of the table. I know what it is like to wonder if the evaluator will really get your child, and to hope that what you see at home will be taken seriously, even if your child looks completely different in the testing room.

I know that separation anxiety can be totally normal. I know that kids have good days, hard days, silly days, tired days, and days when absolutely nothing seems to work. I also know how vulnerable it feels to bring your child to a stranger and trust them to see more than just a set of test scores.

That is why I do not think of comfort, connection, and flexibility as extras. They are not nice additions to a testing session. They are part of doing the evaluation well.

Good testing is not just about giving the right tests. It is about understanding the child in front of you, noticing what helps, recognizing what gets in the way, and creating the conditions for that child to show us as much of themselves as they can. That is the art and science of testing, and it is how we approach evaluations at NDC.