Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

Our public library is deciding whether to eliminate late fees. Some residents think fees teach responsibility, but what they really teach is avoidance. If you owe ten dollars, you stop coming in. That means the library loses the very people it is supposed to serve: kids who need books, families who need internet, and job seekers who need quiet space.

Late fees also cost the library money to enforce. Staff time goes toward awkward conversations at the desk, and the library sends notices that are printed, mailed, and tracked. Meanwhile, the fees collected are often a small slice of the budget compared to city funding. It’s strange that we treat a minor revenue stream like a moral pillar.

People worry that without fees, no one will return materials. But many libraries that removed late fees report that return rates stay similar, and sometimes improve, because patrons aren’t embarrassed to come back. The real consequence for not returning a book is already built in: you can’t check out more items. That’s a natural limit that doesn’t punish a family for one chaotic week.

A library is not a store. Its purpose is access, and policies should match that purpose. If we want a community that reads, we should remove barriers that keep people away.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

The library should get rid of late fees.

Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

Our cafeteria is considering switching to reusable trays and metal utensils instead of disposable ones. Some students roll their eyes and say it won’t matter because “companies pollute more.” That’s true in a way, but it’s also a convenient excuse to do nothing. Schools are public institutions, and what they choose signals what they think is normal.

First, the disposable system is expensive over time. Even if a fork costs only a few cents, multiply that by hundreds of lunches every day, and the total becomes real money. Reusables require upfront investment and dishwashing labor, but they don’t require constant repurchasing. The school already pays for trash pickup; reducing waste could reduce those costs too.

Second, the current system creates a mountain of trash that students literally watch grow. Bags overflow, bins smell, and custodians have to haul it all away. A reusable system would cut the volume dramatically. It’s hard to teach environmental science in one wing of the building while sending piles of plastic to landfills from the other.

Finally, switching to reusables builds habits. If students practice sorting, returning trays, and treating shared materials responsibly, those routines can follow them elsewhere. No one is claiming a fork will “save the planet,” but routines shape culture, and culture shapes what people demand from bigger institutions.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Our school should switch to reusable trays and utensils.

Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

My neighborhood has been debating a 10 p.m. curfew for teens in the public park. Supporters talk about “keeping kids out of trouble,” but they rarely define what trouble is. Sitting on a bench and talking is not a crime; it’s a normal way to exist when you’re too young to go to bars and too old to want to be home all evening.

A curfew would also be unevenly enforced. In practice, rules like this often depend on who looks “suspicious,” which can turn a public space into a place where some teens feel watched and others feel welcomed. That’s not safety; that’s selective permission.

The park is one of the few free places for teens to gather. If the city closes it to them at night, they won’t vanish; they’ll move to parking lots, streets, or private spaces where there’s less lighting and less supervision. Ironically, that could create more problems, not fewer.

If residents are worried about noise or vandalism, the city should invest in lighting, trash cans, and occasional staff presence. It should also create structured events—sports nights, outdoor movies—that give teens something to do without treating them like threats. A curfew is an easy rule that avoids harder solutions.

Which thesis most accurately reflects the organization of the passage?

The city should not impose a teen curfew at the park.

Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

When people talk about “cancel culture,” they often pretend it’s a new invention, as if consequences began in 2016. In reality, communities have always judged behavior; the difference now is speed and scale. A single clip can travel faster than context, and outrage can become a hobby.

Still, public accountability is not automatically censorship. If a celebrity says something harmful and people criticize them, that’s speech responding to speech. The problem is when criticism becomes a substitute for thinking. Online, it’s easier to pile on than to ask what actually happened, what the person meant, and what repair would look like.

We also need to admit who gets “canceled” and who doesn’t. Powerful people often survive scandals with a temporary apology tour, while less famous workers can lose jobs over a post taken the wrong way. That unevenness makes the whole system feel less like justice and more like entertainment.

Instead of celebrating cancellation, we should focus on proportional consequences and opportunities for learning. Sometimes a person should lose a platform; sometimes they should apologize and change; sometimes the public should simply move on. Accountability should be about reducing harm, not collecting screenshots.

Which thesis statement would most effectively introduce the argument’s structure?

Cancel culture is bad for society.

Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

In my town, the school board is debating whether to ban student cell phones during the school day. Many adults argue that phones are “the problem,” as if a rectangle of glass has single-handedly ruined attention spans. But anyone who has sat through seventh-period algebra knows distraction is not new; we used to pass notes, stare out windows, or doodle in the margins. Phones do make those distractions faster and louder, yet they also carry the tools students actually use to manage their lives: calendars, translation apps, and messaging for after-school jobs. When the board talks about a ban, it acts like learning happens in a vacuum where students don’t need to coordinate rides, siblings, or work.

A strict ban would also create enforcement issues that pull teachers away from teaching. If every buzz becomes a disciplinary event, class time turns into policing time. Some teachers will confiscate; others will ignore; students will test boundaries. The result is inconsistent rules that feel arbitrary, which is exactly how you get resentment instead of responsibility. And when a rule feels like a trap, students get better at hiding, not better at focusing.

The board should instead adopt a “phones away, not phones gone” policy: require phones to be stored during instruction, but allow limited access during passing periods and lunch. This approach recognizes that students do need to communicate sometimes, while still protecting instructional time. It also makes expectations simpler: if the teacher is teaching, the phone is away. If it’s lunch, students can check messages without sneaking. Schools claim they want to teach self-management; total bans teach compliance.

Finally, banning phones doesn’t address why students reach for them. If class is confusing or irrelevant, students will escape into anything available. The better long-term fix is engaging instruction and clear routines, not a blanket prohibition that treats every student like they can’t be trusted. We should build policies that match real student lives instead of pretending that removing one object will solve a complicated problem.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

The school board should not ban cell phones during the school day.

Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

Our district is considering moving the high school start time from 7:20 a.m. to 8:30 a.m. The loudest objection is that teenagers will just stay up later anyway, so nothing will change. But that argument treats sleep like a moral choice instead of a biological need. Most teens’ circadian rhythms shift later; asking them to be alert at 7:20 is like asking adults to do calculus at 5 a.m.

Later start times improve learning because students are actually awake enough to process information. In first period, teachers often spend ten minutes repeating directions because half the class looks like they’re underwater. When students are rested, they participate more, retain more, and waste less time just trying to become functional.

There are also safety benefits. Drowsy driving is real, and many students drive themselves or ride with friends. Even students on buses walk to stops in the dark. An extra hour of sleep might not sound dramatic, but it can be the difference between a normal commute and a dangerous one.

Yes, moving the schedule would affect sports and after-school jobs. But schools adjust all the time for weather days, testing weeks, and special events. If we can rearrange for those priorities, we can rearrange for student health. The question is not whether change is inconvenient; it’s whether the current system is worth the cost.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

School should start later.

Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

My state is considering a law that would require employers to provide paid family leave. Opponents call it a “perk,” but having a baby or caring for a sick parent isn’t a vacation. It’s a predictable part of life, and pretending it’s optional is how we end up with families choosing between health and rent.

Paid leave improves public health. When parents can stay home after childbirth, they can attend medical appointments and recover properly. When caregivers can take time to help an elderly relative, they are more likely to manage medications and prevent emergencies. These aren’t sentimental benefits; they reduce long-term strain on hospitals and social services.

It also helps workers stay attached to the workforce. Without paid leave, people—especially women—often quit jobs entirely. That’s costly for families and for employers who lose trained workers. A leave policy keeps experience in the system and reduces turnover, which businesses complain about constantly.

Finally, paid leave is an equity issue. High-income professionals sometimes already have leave through benefits, while hourly workers don’t. That means the people with the least financial cushion face the harshest choices. A statewide policy creates a baseline so care isn’t reserved for the lucky.

Which thesis most accurately reflects the organization of the passage?

The state should require paid family leave.

Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

My state is debating whether to require a semester-long personal finance course for graduation. Students already take years of math, but many graduate without knowing how interest works outside a worksheet. That gap shows up fast: eighteen-year-olds sign for credit cards, choose student loans, and agree to apartment leases. We tell teenagers to “be responsible” while refusing to teach the vocabulary of adulthood.

A personal finance course would give students practical knowledge they can use immediately. Understanding compound interest, budgeting, and taxes is not “extra”; it’s basic. Even students who don’t plan to go to college still have to manage paychecks and bills. And students who do go to college face financial decisions that can follow them for decades.

Some critics say schools shouldn’t teach money because families should. But that argument assumes every family has time, stability, and experience to pass down. In reality, many parents are learning these systems themselves. School is the one place designed to provide a baseline education regardless of background.

Others argue the schedule is already full. Yet schools make room for what they value. If we can require a semester of health to teach nutrition and safety, we can require a semester of finance to teach economic survival. The goal isn’t to turn students into accountants; it’s to prevent avoidable mistakes.

Which thesis statement would most effectively introduce the argument’s structure?

A personal finance class should be required for graduation.

Read the student essay below and answer the question that follows.

My friend says dress codes are “not a big deal,” but they show what a school chooses to police. Our administration is rewriting the dress code after several students were pulled out of class for “distracting” outfits. The school’s dress code needs to change.

To start, the current rules are too subjective. Words like “appropriate” and “not distracting” depend on who is enforcing them, which means students get different consequences for similar clothes. When a rule is unclear, it becomes less about clothing and more about the power to interrupt someone’s day.

Second, enforcement often targets certain groups. Girls get told their shoulders are a problem; students of color get labeled “aggressive” or “gang-related” for styles that are normal in their communities. Even if the policy isn’t written that way, the pattern matters. A dress code shouldn’t become a reason some students lose learning time more than others.

Finally, the school can protect learning without policing bodies. A better policy would focus on safety and basic decency—no hate symbols, no clothing that threatens others, and shoes required in labs—while leaving personal style alone. Students can learn professionalism in context, like presentations or internships, instead of being constantly monitored in hallways.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Read the student essay below and answer the question that follows.

My state is considering making the civics test required for high school graduation. Supporters say students need “basic knowledge” about government, and that sounds reasonable, but the plan misunderstands what civics actually is. The state should not require a standalone civics test to graduate.

First, a single test encourages memorization instead of participation. Students will cram facts about amendments and branches, then forget them. Civics should be practiced: attending a meeting, writing a public comment, evaluating sources, and discussing real policies. A multiple-choice test can’t measure whether someone can do those things.

Second, the test would likely increase inequity. Schools with more resources can offer dedicated prep, while underfunded schools might not. Students with test anxiety or language barriers would be punished even if they understand civic ideas in other ways. Graduation requirements should not become another filter that reflects funding differences.

Third, the state could support civics more effectively by investing in project-based coursework and teacher training. If lawmakers truly care about civic knowledge, they should fund the time and materials for students to engage with their communities, not add another exam and call it a solution.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?