Power Assessorizing

O.k.

So, I'm doing what I do: Teaching future teachers.  

They are lovely.  Fresh-faced.  Eager to please.  Full of good ideas and hopes and really really substantial criticisms of the education system.   I love them!

However, I am struggling.

See, I teach something called Assessment of Learning.  Well, MSU calls it this.  I call it Assessment FOR Learning.  Which is what assessment is ultimately meant to be: FOR learning.  Not for funds. Not for awards. Not for merit pay.  FOR LEARNING.

Like, if a student can't tell you that four + four is eight, then you say to yourself, "Well, I must go back and reteach it."  Or, at another point, you say, "Well, I've been over that a hundred times!  What's going on here?"  And there are all kinds of cool, easy ways to figure out who's learning what and how that can inform what you do in the classroom.

But now the professor becomes the assessor.  I've graded the first rounds of essays, responses students write to the articles we read in class.  We have a rubric, which is can be a great self- assessment tool, pulling apart all the aspects of completing a task and describing how students can attain a certain grade. For instance, what is a good reflective essay?  Well, for one thing,  it "...is logically organized" and vocabulary used to write it is "...subject-relevant."  It also delineates between a "content" grade and one for "conventions of writing" (punctuation, mechanics, etc.)

In my class, I have a generous revision policy.  After all, I am a writer, and I never get anything down the first time.  Never.  (See that little typo, above, which I intentionally kept so I could make this point.)

I also weight this requirement of the class;  essay grades account for 40% of the total grade for the course.  The rest?  Participation and in-class activities, as well as the final project.  

But the writing part is important.  Writing is thinking.  Thinking is writing.  And I hate this aspect of my class--the grading of this thinking.   Even with our nice little rubric, with our revision policy, with all the feedback and help I give on these things, I recognize that assigning a grade means making a judgment.  I'm not saying that's wrong, but it's hard.  

I have lovely, smart students who struggle to get a sentence on paper.  Sometimes, I can't even be sure they read the article or watched the video on Edutopia or listened to the podcast.  And I find myself getting annoyed. Indignant.  Frustrated.

Other times, when a student is really saying something important through their writing, when they've really GOTTEN it down, I want to make smiley faces and exclamation marks all over the paper, then I want to write them an email saying, "Thank you, student!  You are the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to  me!  I love you!"

And that is equally disturbing.  

Because in both instances, there is the slightest notion of subjectivity here.  Especially with something like writing.  

For instance, I'm a "professional" writer.  And I'm old.  How good ARE my students meant to be at this point in their lives at what is an evolving skill?  I want to be part of that evolution, but to do so, I have to start at some baseline.  To do so, I have to acknowledge that work needs to be done.  And that critical aspect of evaluating someone can be hurtful, no matter how carefully it's broached.  

That hurt, I think, can also build walls that influence the way students think about us, our values, and our intentions.  Every day, I ask myself, "Is this about power?  What do you want here?  What do they need? Is this fair?"  And it can be harrowing, finding these answers.  

I hope by asking them of myself, I am a better teacher.   But who knows.

Do Schools Wound? Part 2.

Book recommendation:  Wounded By School: Recapturing the Joy in School and Standing Up to Old School Culture.

For ten years, the author, Kirsten Olson,  followed and interviewed one hundred students, teachers, and parents to discover their common school experiences.  Why were so many kids disengaged with the school experience?  Why did so many gifted teachers leave the field within three years?  Why did students experience themselves not as learners in an active process of becoming more literate, but as losers, failures, and/or outcasts?  Why did parents give up, (at best) ultimately encouraging their children to tow the line and get through the process?

I wrote a bit about this last summer.  Hope you'll read the book.

sdntroversial new book says that the way we educate millions of American children alienates students from a fundamental pleasure in learning, and that pleasure in learning is essential to real engagement, creativity, intellectual entrepreneurship, and a well lived life.

Based on almost a decade of intensive autobiographical interviews with over 100 "ordinary" students, teachers, and parents, Wounded By School describes some of the dilemmas of those in school now. Students talk about intensive boredom and daily disengagement, while knowing that school "matters" more than ever.  Students and teachers describe a grinding lack of meaning in their work, combined with intensive labeling, tracking and shrink-wrapping of learners based on cursory tests and poor understanding of many kinds of minds.

Wounded By School identifies seven kinds of common school wounds, and tells the stories of those who have experienced them.

This controversial new book says that the way we educate millions of American children alienates students from a fundamental pleasure in learning, and that pleasure in learning is essential to real engagement, creativity, intellectual entrepreneurship, and a well lived life.

Based on almost a decade of intensive autobiographical interviews with over 100 "ordinary" students, teachers, and parents, Wounded By School describes some of the dilemmas of those in school now. Students talk about intensive boredom and daily disengagement, while knowing that school "matters" more than ever.  Students and teachers describe a grinding lack of meaning in their work, combined with intensive labeling, tracking and shrink-wrapping of learners based on cursory tests and poor understanding of many kinds of minds.

This controversial new book says that the way we educate millions of American children alienates students from a fundamental pleasure in learning, and that pleasure in learning is essential to real engagement, creativity, intellectual entrepreneurship, and a well lived life.

Based on almost a decade of intensive autobiographical interviews with over 100 "ordinary" students, teachers, and parents, Wounded By School describes some of the dilemmas of those in school now. Students talk about intensive boredom and daily disengagement, while knowing that school "matters" more than ever.  Students and teachers describe a grinding lack of meaning in their work, combined with intensive labeling, tracking and shrink-wrapping of learners based on cursory tests and poor understanding of many kinds of minds.

A Reckoning

Over the past several days, I've gotten a lot of feedback regarding the post about my son's homework.  (You'd never know it by the lack of comments here, but apparently, this thing is being read!)

I never used the teacher' name, and as I said throughout the post, I had qualms about writing it because I didn't want to hurt anyone or put my own darling son in a bad situation.  

Today, I deleted that post.  

I'm still a little confused as to whether that was the right thing to do.  The fact is, I have assiduously tried to be diplomatic here.  Originally, I was going to author this blog anonymously.  Then, when that seemed somehow cowardly, I decided to always err on the side of caution.  At any rate, I most want to share my experiences and--this is the crucial part--figure out solutions and discover new ideas.  

But last week happened, and I was frustrated.  To me, it was the perfect example of the disconnect between parents and schools that can derail the best educational intentions.

I decided that if it was my experience, and if it was factual and as truly reported as one's own perspective can be, then it might really be heard.  And it was!  (Most of the feedback was completely supportive.)

But like I said, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.  I don't.   I was a teacher, and, as I will write about soon, I was the victim of parental antagonism.   It was an awful year for me, but I learned from it.  (The next year was my best year ever.)

A bully, I do NOT want to be.  

So, if you want that text of that post, I can send it to you.  If you disagree with my self-censorship, I'd love to know about it.  

And, apologies to my son's teacher on the remote chance she read the blog already.  Know this: There are things I need as a parent.  There are things my kids need as students.  But there are things YOU need, too, and I know that.  Those three things can come together in what we all seek--the best education system for all.