No More Averaged Grades!

This time of year, grades are on my mind. While I am thrilled with my students’ learning, I am not happy with grades or grading.

I decided to try traditional averaged grading for the first time this year. In the past, I used rubrics, grade guides, and other systems. However, our school is using an online grade book and the program is designed for an averaged point system. Averaging grades is easier and faster than evaluating portfolios or going through checklists. It allows teachers to be more flexible with the number and weight of assignments. I fully understand why it is the overwhelming favorite of my colleagues.

However, it is not my favorite. Far from it: I hate it. I think it is not pedagogically sound and I am never using it again. I am working on a way to change my system for second semester.

Averaged grading basically takes all the work a student has done and puts it in a pile and declares that the middle is the measurement of students’ achievement. Is that a good way to measure what goes on in class? Is that accurate?

If I am really teaching students and they are really learning, then their proficiency should increase throughout the year. All learners make mistakes initially; that is how we discover what we don’t know and what we need to figure out. An averaged system means that, even though mistakes aid in the learning process, they will be permanent stains on the record.

This is akin to judging gymnasts based on how quickly they learned their routines or musicians on how few errors they made sight-reading. Would anyone ever say to an athlete or musician, “Well, you did a great job, but I know you didn’t do it well the first few times you tried, so you get marked down.” That would be ridiculous. Yet, that is how we grade students.

When kids are learning, their work is supposed to improve. The real measure is both individual, their growth between where they started and where they finished, and objective, their ability to master a set of defined skills or knowledge. Averaged grades don’t communicate the student’s proficiency in the subject area. They only measures the distance between their best and their worst attempts.

By averaging grades, we give students an incentive to play it safe. If a student makes a choice that is creative, original, or innovative and doesn’t work out, down goes the grade. The real lesson is don’t take risks; give teachers what they are asking for and be as milquetoast as possible.

Then it all comes down to the almighty percentage; teachers and students don’t have to evaluate learning, they just do simple math. The focus is on the number and the grade, instead of the skills and the learning. No real evaluating or thinking involved.

Ironically, as I was drafting this blog posting, my department was assigned an article by Ken O’Connor and Rick Wormeli that made a very similar argument. These two well regarded educational researchers share my view on averaging, “It is unethical and inaccurate to include in a grade digressions in performance that occur during the learning process when a grade is supposed to report students’ mastery at the end of that process. It is also inaccurate to rely solely on single-sitting assessments for the most accurate report of what students know and can do. Instead we look for evidence over time.” (O’Connor and Wormeli, Reporting Student Learning).

No more averaged grades for me. My grades will be progressive; each assignment hopefully a step up the stairs. I will not penalize students’ mistakes but reward their successes. I hope my grading system will encourage creative risk taking and innovation. It will be more difficult to arrive at a grade at this way, but it is my goal to make grades a more accurate, fair, and humane indicator of students’ learning.

A Sweet Parenting Buffet

Parenting is our most important job. However, we don’t go to school for it. We saw our parents in action. We get glimpses of other parents. Is trial and error the only way we can learn to be good parents?

I remember my aunt pulling me aside and giving me a little advice. My first reaction was, “Who does she think she is?!” and “I know how to parent my child!” I realized that she had a very good point and was right. I am a better parent for her coaching.

Classroom teachers have a parenting advantage (if they choose to use it). I have encountered parents who should teach courses and write books about the subject. I have met parents who should take those classes. I continue to meet remarkable and expert parents and learn from them.

At a recent Sweet Tomatoes dinner, I saw a display of these many parenting characteristics:

Good parents work hard to foster their children’s independence. Rather than carrying their children’s trays, I saw parents allowing children to take just a little and do it themselves – and being patient enough to let them move slowly and carefully to the table.

I watched a mom talk to her child about not cutting in front of people at the pasta bar. If we want our kids to be powerful, then we must hold our children responsible for their actions and coach them on how to make good decisions.

I saw small children come precariously close to toppling older adults. They ran through the buffet area like a playground. One almost ended up covered with hot soup. Good parents show their children their actions can have positive or negative effects on the people around them.

I bumped into a former student and her family. Good parents actively teach their children how to foster healthy relationships with peers, adults, family, and the larger community.

At a table on the other side of the booth wall, I could hear a parent saying to his child again and again, “You promised. Remember? You promised me!” Good parents hold their children to their commitments and teach them to make good ones.

My family had a conversation about our eating choices. It is critical to teach our children long term thinking. Kids are very much in the here and now. They have trouble envisioning tomorrow, let along next year.

There was one table that looked like the Partridge family. They were all dressed in nearly matching outfits. Our kids are a reflection of us. There is no doubting that parents impress themselves on their children. However, good parents also see their children as unique individuals with their own passions, aptitudes, and characteristics.

Of course there was a disaster table: food was everywhere, coats were on the floor, one parent was on the phone, kids were all over. Good parents are consistent, reliable, and predictable. Their children rarely wonder what their parents will do; they set limits and then hold the whole family to them.

Everywhere I looked, there were clear demonstrations of the joy of genuine affection and caring. Nothing is more important than kids feeling truly loved by their parents.

Of course, this is only a surface exploration of these topics. Please consider this an appetizer. It is my intension to serve up more courses in the weeks and months to come. What characteristics have I left out?

Parenting is too important to fumble through. Our kids are watching our choices and, consciously or not, storing them away. Our words are powerful. Our actions are even more so. I am so grateful to the many fantastic parents who continue to let me feast at the buffet of great parenting.

“Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid.” – Albert Einstein

In Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon, all children are above average. Most places are like Keillor’s fictional Minnesota town; parents see their children as special and wonderful and they are right. Every child has gifts.

Yet our educational model does not reflect this. We cling to outdated concepts of tracks and levels and increasingly obsolete labels like honors and gifted. Instead of asking if students are gifted, we should ask how they are gifted. As any parent will tell you, children grow in spurts and fits. Just because my child knows her colors doesn’t mean she can count. A child may be at the top of the class one year and then the others catch up. Kids aren’t programmable. The only constant is growth but it is not consistent, even, or regular.

This constant growth is a challenge. Today, a student struggles with the abstract concept of theme in English class. Yet, as he moves into what developmental psychologist Jean Piaget calls formal thought, he is able to understand and analyze meanings and messages in a piece of literature. Children’s development is often the reason why some are more academically able than others.

If all the kids made these leaps at the same time, education would be much easier. Unfortunately, human beings don’t develop like products on the assembly line. And just because some children achieve a landmark early doesn’t mean that they are smarter or “gifted.” Just because others take longer does not mean they are less able. Something difficult yesterday might be easier today. Something that was no problem yesterday could cause issues today. And this growth is influenced by parents, teachers, peers and environment. Is there a good test to account for all that?

One of my first teaching experiences was working with “academically talented” students in a summer program. As I trained to work with them, I envisioned a bunch of middle school eggheads. When they arrived, I met regular kids who, for a wide variety of reasons, were advanced in specific areas but behaved like any other junior high kids.

Then I became a high school teacher and students would announce that they were in a special gifted program in middle school. I could see that some of them had skills that were more developed than their peers. For many, I could not. Most of the students who came from the middle school gifted or talented programs felt very entitled and displayed an arrogance that made me very uncomfortable –especially since most of the time, I didn’t see much basis for it.

These kids had been exposed to different lessons than their “regular” classmates. That gave them an advantage. Some of them performed better in class. But many “regular” kids could keep up or surpass them. I learned that, when I gave extra attention, “special” lessons, and praise to students – any students, they excelled. I have taught honors classes and classes that mixed students of different “ability” levels. I have worked with “disabled” and “remedial” students. I have news: all kids are gifted; all kids are talented, and all kids do better when they receive extra special attention.

Labeling our children or their classes does everyone a disservice. Children experience huge changes in their cognitive abilities well into their college years. There are a very few profoundly gifted students. I have taught one or two of them, and there is no debating their “gifts”. And let’s be clear: their gifts are at least half curse. Do you want your children to go to college at age thirteen? These are the gifted few.

The rest of our kids are above average.

Gifted Teachers

Why give your child’s teacher a gift? What message does a teacher gift (or lack of it) send? As a parent and a teacher, I have asked these questions from both sides of the desk. My family gives gifts as a way to say, thank you. As our children have grown older, these gifts have become an acknowledgement of the relationship between our child and a special teacher.

As a parent, I am so grateful to the many wonderful educators who work with my children. Over and over, I am delighted by how these fantastic teachers foster my kids’ growth. But it is more than just teachers. As a family, we create ways to thank camp counselors, bus drivers, coaches, music tutors, and others. Yet, no one deserves thanks more than our children’s schoolteachers.

Of course there have been some duds. There have been a few teachers who did not connect well with my children. Although, we sometimes sent gifts to them, as our kids got into middle and high school, we now focus on the teachers with whom our children have strong positive relationships.

The gift comes from our child and the family. Our child writes a card and we work together to choose the gift. We discuss which teachers they want to give gifts. Sometimes, the adults and the children see things differently and our kids need help to see their own growth. More often, we see it the same way.

I could write a book about selecting teacher gifts and gifts that I have found meaningful as a teacher. However, the gift itself is not as important as the giving, the thanking, and the thought.

Which leads me to decoding the gifts I receive (or don’t). This year, I received more gifts than in the past. I’ve had years when I received very few gifts. This year, one gift was from the family of a student with whom I have been spending a significant amount of extra time. The card was signed from the family and only wished me a happy holiday. I have lost count of how many cards are signed from the child an adult’s handwriting. This year, one was signed “love.” How sweet! I wish the kid wrote it.

I am comforted by the fact that, in my building and department, most teachers get about the same number of gifts. There are a few people who always seem to get more – but that is a subject for another entry. My wife is a counselor and she gets many more gifts than I do. She sees more students and has them for a longer period of time.

I think that my family’s decision to be highly deliberate about teacher gifts is unusual. Kids rarely thank teachers for writing their college letters of recommendation. In high school, families rarely acknowledge the extra time and care that teachers give their children. Saying, “thank you” is unusual. Saying nothing is the norm.

My holiday gifts could be demoralizing, but I choose to think about them another way. If nothing is the norm, then when nothing arrives, that is what it means: nothing.

I treasure each gift. Each one is special and each one gets a handwritten thank you note as soon as I get home. The size, expense, or cleverness of the gift is far less important than the sentiment. I have kept cards that accompanied gifts from long ago. Most of the time, I no longer remember the gift; I remember the student and the relationship. Those are the real gifts and I am rich in those!

My Rules of the Road

My niece is just learning to drive. My daughter has been driving for almost than two years. It is critically important to teach them to drive well since what they see on the road is often dangerous, rude, and thoughtless. I start with my three driving commandments:

• If in doubt, don’t. If you are wondering if you have enough time to turn left, don’t. If you think it might not be legal to make a U-turn, don’t. If you aren’t sure about any move behind the wheel, don’t do it!

• You are never in a hurry behind the wheel. Even if you are about to miss the train, curtain, or opportunity, you have all the time in the world once you get in the car. If you are pulled over or get in a crash, you will be far later (double meaning intended) than if you took your safe and slow time.

• Nothing fast. Don’t drive fast. Don’t make fast decisions behind the wheel. Don’t try to out maneuver other vehicles. Fast quickly creates problems.

Beside my commandments, I have my car-dinal sins. If my young drivers see these as selfish and hazardous, perhaps they will be less likely to drive badly and more likely to arrive home in one piece.

• Failure to use signals: Turn signals serve two functions: safety and courtesy and both important. Nonetheless, never trust turn signals: wait for the vehicle to make the actual turn first.

• Throwing your butt out: Although I don’t use them, most cars have ashtrays. There is no reason to throw cigarette butts out the car window. People are free to pollute their bodies, but they shouldn’t pollute the world our children drive through.

• Squeaking through the intersection after the arrow or light has changed: How many times does an extra vehicle (or two) zip through a busy intersection after the light is red or the arrow is gone? Are a few saved seconds worth a crash?

• Not taking your turn at a stop sign: It goes without saying that one should actually stop at a stop sign. However, many drivers think that is all they have to do regardless of other vehicles. Many cars stop briefly and then move through the stop sign even when others are waiting. The car that arrived first goes first. If two cars arrive at the same time, the car going straight has the right of way.

• No lights when the weather requires wipers: In Illinois, the law states that, if you are using your wipers, you must turn on your headlights. Duh! In the rain, fog, and snow, lights permit drivers and pedestrians to see oncoming traffic. I have my headlights on 100% of the time. It doesn’t save power or money to keep them off. Would that be any consolation if you hit someone?

• Put down the phone! My biggest driving sin is use of phones. Whether drivers are dialing, sending text messages, or talking, it is the most dangerous distraction. Every driver can tell stories of seeing people driving inappropriately because they were yakking away on phones. Most of us have had frightening moments due to drivers on phones. Towns and states should ban hand held phones while driving. I wish they’d stop more drivers and use traffic cameras to catch these fools. I hope that people change their habits before someone I love is one of their many victims.

Most traffic crashes aren’t accidents. Most are due to selfish and thoughtless driving. Our kids are watching. They are hearing what we say but more importantly, seeing how we live up to our professions. There are too many poor examples for them to follow. Let’s provide them with good models.

Centsless Lip Service

The teachers and school board of District 109 in Deerfield are still negotiating a contract, even though we are well into the school year. This process has become so contentious that they need a federal mediator. What has taken so long? Why have things become so adversarial?

Of course, in these difficult economic times, school boards are under pressure to cut costs and teachers want to increase salaries. That is certainly part of the issue here. According to newspaper reports, class size, special education, outdoor teacher responsibilities, and teacher benefits are also sticking points.

While all the parties would agree that the bottom line is doing what is good for kids, how each side achieves this goal reflects their values. Values are more than what they say. Real values are what we live. We spend our money on what is truly important; regardless of what we profess.

The larger question isn’t about District 109 or any particular contract point. The question is, why are we bickering over our children’s education? Almost everyone gives lip service to the value of education. How many times does someone say something like, “Teachers should be paid more.”? Does anyone really believe that? Is anyone one willing to put cents (or sense) to this lip service?

There may be a minority who would plunk down additional dollars (and their children may be in private education), but as recent referendums have shown, a majority of people would like to get as much as they can for as little as possible. And as my grandmother said, “you get what you pay for.”

Funding is at the heart of the issues in District 109 and thousands of districts across the country. We don’t have enough money for education. We aren’t willing to pay for what we say we want. We want education, healthcare, retirement benefits, and many other services, but we don’t want to pay for them. We say we value them. We say they are important, but we are unwilling to open our wallets.

We rationalize. Money is being wasted. We want a good value. Other people pay less. There are ways to cut costs. These are not arguments; these are excuses. Online learning, test scores, school days, unions, and other topics do not even come close to the real issues. We want a world-class education for our children, but we want other people to pay for it. Yes, the system is broken. In a perfect world, we’d pay people by the importance of their jobs to society. Blah, blah, blah, blah. This tired rhetoric leaves our children in the cold.

The solution isn’t simple. The fix is going to be difficult, expensive, and painful. And it will take a long time. Taxpayers and politicians (and school boards) don’t like that. They would prefer quick, cheap, and easy. I don’t want quick, cheap, and easy for our children.

Our actions belie our words. Our choices demonstrate our real values. Education isn’t important enough for us to spend additional money. We don’t value teachers, learning, or schools. We don’t think that what happens in schools is important, although we may say it frequently. Our every collective action screams that education is at the bottom of our list. Our system spells it out (although sometimes incorrectly). Our choices make our priorities clear. The education crisis in America is caused by the underlying belief that almost everything (certainly banks, guns, corporations, and the privileged few) is more important than our children’s education.

No wonder District 109 can’t come to an agreement.

Tribute Trouble

I am facing one of those landmark moments. My daughter is a senior in high school and with each college application, graduation robe deposit, or yearbook photo, I am more and more aware of the approaching turning point. I can’t say that I like it. I have a difficult time imagining the house without two children or living apart from my daughter for more than four weeks. But that is what I will have to do.

When we received the email from the school asking for a “youth” photo and some words to print in the yearbook as a senior tribute, I was baffled. Frankly, I have never given that section of the yearbook much attention. My daughter’s graduation was so far away and I never wanted to consider it.

So I opened a few old yearbooks and took a look. The pictures varied from blurry and bizarre to cute and commonplace. For the most part, they looked like the pictures in our old albums. A few stood out because they were either particularly well done or felt so much like snapshots that I wondered if any thought was given when selecting them. I resolved to do better and create a more interesting and arresting image.

The picture was the easy part. I had dozens of pictures of my daughter as I little girl. She and her mother whittled them down to two or three and I wrapped a big Q around them. They picked the picture and my daughter fussed with the color of the Q. Done.

The words are where I am stuck.

Most of the senior tributes directly address the graduates. Our instructions are to write about fifty words. Fifty words! I have fifty thousand or none at all. “Stay close to home,” sounds desperate. “Come back home,” sounds worse. I have so much to say to my child but much of it I don’t want to publish.

A few of the tributes have inside jokes, cryptic memories, or odd statements. As I read them, I wondered if those parents understood what they were doing.

What am I doing? What is the purpose of this yearbook tribute? The name suggests perhaps an expression of thanks or a compliment. Of course, it could also mean money that is extorted. That sounds like college tuition.

I am so grateful to have been part of my child’s growing up. “Thank you,” doesn’t begin to express my gratitude. While there are dozens of compliments I could write about my child, I am hesitant to publish them next to pictures of her classmates.

This audience gives me pause as well. The kids will be the only ones who really look at this section of the yearbook. The parents may look at their own and skim over a few others, but the main audience will be my daughter and her friends.

What do I want to say to them? Make good choices! I love you! I will miss you. Are those the messages for the yearbook tribute? They don’t feel “tribute” enough. The landmark, the assignment, and my feelings are getting mixed up, but that doesn’t make the problem go away.

I have considered pithy quotes. My current favorite is a set of lyrics from a Stephen Schwartz song that we used as part of my daughter’s bat mitzvah service. It is basically an acknowledgement of her maturity and of how difficult it is to for me to let go.

And that is the heart of my problem: I am not ready to let go. I am writing a public goodbye note when I have not yet had the time to prepare for the farewell. She is not leaving for good and we will have the summer and, given the job market, she may even move home after graduation when I won’t want her back.

Nope. I will always want her back. And I still don’t know what to write.