The Grading Game

I have memorized all of my students’ grades. That’s right. I didn’t need to copy them from the school system on to my spreadsheet. I knew them. I double-checked, of course, but I was correct.

I know my students’ grades because I worked on them for hours. I reviewed each student’s progress for the last five months. I went back to their assignments and my notes. My family thinks I perseverate over these grades. They may be correct.

I am struggling with grades and grading – again. This year I have fully committed to grading by standards. My students’ grades are determined by their proficiency in eleven specific targets. Each assignment focuses on one or more targets and is recorded in my grade book, not by assignment, but by the skill.

So what should be so difficult about assigning an end of the semester grade? A student is proficient in some skills, inconsistently proficient in some, and still developing in others. Great. We know which skills this student needs to focus on next semester.

But is that a B? Is it an A? What is it?

Then there are things that are not easily measurable: passion, engagement, or even growth. Grades must be justified, so most teachers base them solely on things we count, and then we only see those things and something important silently slips away.

Did I mention that I hate grades? I think grades shift focus away from real learning and redirect it to a game of collecting a kind of college currency. Grades plant poison in the teacher-student relationship. I wish we could just look at students’ skill levels and leave it at that. But that is not my world.

I hate grading so much that I’ll write a blog post to avoid doing it. I really should be finishing those grades right now.

I translated my scores into numbers that reflect their degrees of mastery. A 4 is a student who could teach the skill, a 3 is a student who is proficient, a 2 is a student who is developing proficiency, and a 1 is a student who doesn’t demonstrate the skill adequately.

We work on these skills in class. We practice, and they get feedback. We look at models and respond to each other’s work. We conference and revise and review and discuss and do all sorts of activities.

So why can’t I just give them a grade?

I made a chart: a student getting an A should have primarily 4s, 3s and 2.5s. A student getting a B should have 2.5s and an occasional 3 or 2. My son looked at the chart and detected its flaw: “you are weighting all the targets the same,” he said.

We have spent more time on reading. Should it count for more? How much more? We only had one unit using research skills. Some skills are interrelated: writing a paragraph claim is a step toward writing a thesis. And how much should “work completion,” “class participation,” and the other “effort” skills weigh?

I played math games, and tried to add the numbers together. I came up weighted and unweighted scores. I gave some targets a multiplier.

I ended up using everything. I looked at all the systems and scrutinized each student’s grade individually. I stayed up late several nights in a row checking and rechecking.

There has to be a better way. I have resolved to ask my students to help me find it. If you have it, please share. Yes, simply averaging their grades and coming up with an 88% would be easier –but it would be wrong (look here, here, and here if you want to know my thoughts on averaged grades).

I want my students’ grades to accurately and honestly reflect their skills and learning. I want their grades to be fair. And I want to get some sleep!

Cold Days Slide Us Back To School

Every year, snow days are wonderful surprises. A day off for something else is unusual. Two days off is rare. Two days off attached to a break is unprecedented. But that’s what happened.

At the end of summer vacation, I am ready for school. I am eager to meet my new students, rise to new challenges, see my colleagues, and get back in the game. Spring break is always too short. The week flies by, and school vengefully returns. Winter break is just about the right length. Although a third week would be accepted gladly, two weeks are long enough to let go of school.

However, going back to school isn’t exactly welcome. I was bracing myself for the return last Saturday. The break had been especially meaningful. My elder child had rejoined the family after being way since August. It was a joyful reunion, and we had a week in splendid Hawaiian isolation.

We returned to cold Chicago, and my children got touch with their friends, and made plans. We unpacked and prepared for school.  The four of us got together with neighbors and family, too. Winter break was waning.

And then it got cold – real cold. On Sunday, I drove my daughter to her grandparents’ house in the morning. My van’s doors froze shut on the way. It was a sign of what was coming. Soon after, the superintendent announced there would be no school on Monday.

Monday morning felt like Sunday. We slept late, and had a leisurely breakfast together. Although my daughter wanted to go out with friends, she was easily dissuaded by the terrible conditions outside. So the four of us stayed home – together.

We watched TV, read, and played games. We did family work together. We filled out forms, planned for school, and enjoyed a very different kind of isolation. We opened all the cabinets, ran the faucets, and checked the water pipes in the basement regularly. It was an extra vacation day spent in the arctic.

We played a game after dinner, looked at photos of my daughter’s African journey, and went to bed warm and relaxed. We were shocked when we got notice of a second canceled day.

The second day was our transition back into reality. First, I realized that there was cold air coming through the vents. The furnace was no longer heating the house. Then, as my kids left to go to the movies, the garage door wouldn’t close. When it ceased to work entirely, we realized that the power was out. No problem, we have a generator. It didn’t work either.

Our super handyman came over and was able to make three of our four issues go away. Commonwealth Edison eventually got the power back on.

My wife and I sat down to a late lunch exhausted, but pleased that the kids had spent the drama time at the movie theater with friends. The second snow day felt more like a frantic Saturday.

Thus, we are ready to get back to school tomorrow. The two extra days were more than icing on winter break. They were a last chance to circle the wagons and spend time with important people. They were also a reminder of why school had been canceled in the first place, and that real problems and real responsibilities are never far away.

Currently it is 1° outside. My son is studying. My daughter is packing. My wife is at a meeting. I am writing. Winter break is over. Tomorrow: school!