Your Grade is an 89.9% B+ and That’s Final!

How do teachers determine the grades students receive? I have discovered that many teachers do not determine grades. They leave students’ grades to the numbers. They call this a “fair” grade. It is not fair. It is poor. It is a dereliction of duty.

Even putting aside the inherent problems with using averaged percentages as a grading “system,” teachers, not numbers, should monitor the progress of their students. Good teachers use a variety of assessments and instruments to evaluate what students can do and what they know. It is a teacher’s responsibility to make certain that the grades assigned to students are valid representations of students’ mastery. Leaving that to the numbers takes the teacher off the hook.

“Wait a minute,” some teacher cries! “I graded the quizzes, tests, and homework. The grade is merely the average of the students’ work. It is a fair representation of how many items the student answered correctly.”

True. However, is it a fair representation of how well the student has mastered the material taught? No. Two points off.

Students’ success on assessments should improve over time. This is called learning. If a student is getting everything correct from the start, little learning has occurred. Is the teacher even needed? Teachers often love the kids they don’t need to teach. They are the easy A’s. It is critical to provide students with instruction, practice, feedback, and assessment – and then do it all over again. Through this process, students’ achievement should improve.

So is it “fair” to average the speed of the learning process into the grade? If one student did poorly on some assessments, but then mastered the skill later and clearly demonstrated this, should that student be penalized for the time needed to learn the skill? Should the grade be more about which student made fewer errors getting to the goal? We don’t take away an Olympic swimmer’s gold medal because he didn’t make a world record in practice. No one graded down Shakespeare for bad drafts or Einstein for failed formulas.

Thus, a student whose average is on a border, who earns 89.9 or 92.4, should not automatically be given the B+ or A-. A student whose grades are trending up is really learning the material. In truth, the most recent assignments are the best measurement of mastery. Although the student may have earned an A- for the quarter, if she rocks the final or the last major assignments, a teacher should ask if the numbers accurately reflect her learning.

At this time of year, many students and parents are asking teachers, “Why is my child on the grade border? What could have happened to push him from the lower to the higher grade?”

Teacher shrugs and says, “the numbers tell the story.” But that is incorrect. What is the grade trend? Has the student mastered the skills? Are you certain, teacher, that a few items on a few assessments are not the reason for the average? Is your certainty grader (oops –I meant greater) than your margin of error? What would you see if you looked more closely?

Yes, it is more difficult and time consuming to examine student individually. It is easier just to pop numbers into a computer and let it determine the grade. But such unprofessional laziness is not an accurate representation of student achievement, and it is unfair to both the students and the learning process.

Teachers do not want to be evaluated exclusively on their students’ numbers. Their students should not be evaluated that way either! 

Subject: Your Emails To Your Teachers

Dear Students,

Your emails need improvement. They are unclear, grammatically incorrect, and far too informal. One important lesson you must learn in school is to how to communicate well. Here are some important tips on writing formal emails to teachers, professors, employers (current or potential) and anyone other than your friends or family:  

Use formal salutations and titles. You don’t call your teachers by their first names, you don’t address them with “hey,” and you don’t just dive into the conversation. Close your emails appropriately using a closing salutation like “Sincerely,” “Yours,” “Thank you,” or even “See you in class.”

Use the subject line to clearly state the purpose of your email. Don’t leave it blank or simply put your name in it. You may include your name and class, but you should also briefly state the main point of your communication.

Use formal language and a respectful tone. Don’t address your teacher as you would a friend. Your email should not read like a text message. You should have clear sentences, paragraphs, and employ good grammar and correct spelling. Be sure to spell your teacher’s name correctly. It is helpful to bold important lines and make each point an individual paragraph.

Do not ask, “Did I miss anything?” when you are not in class. “What did I miss?” is no better. It is unreasonable to ask a teacher to capture an entire lesson in an email. Do your homework if you miss class; contact a classmate, look at the website, and do your best to find out what you missed on your own. Then email the teacher to ask questions, make an appointment, or arrange to make up missed work.

Do read over your email before you send it. Before you press that send key, give a second look at what you have written. Do use the spell checker. It might help to type the email in a word processor and then copy it to your email. If it helps, read it aloud to make sure you are communicating clearly and correctly.

Do check for your teacher’s reply. Students frequently ask, “Did you get my email.” Teachers often reply, “Yes, did you get mine?” If you aren’t going to read your teacher’s reply, don’t send the email at all.

Your email communicates far more than the words themselves. The messages you send tell people about who you are, what you know, and how you treat people. Your emails can enhance and strengthen your relationships or they can leave a lasting poor impression. It is worth taking the time and thought to use them well.

Please consider these ideas when you are emailing your teachers or communicating with anyone with whom you have a formal relationship. 

Sincerely Yours,

Mr. Hirsch

Final Exam Questions – and Answers

I am not a fan of high school final exams. Given the way finals are administered at my school, I am not sure what function they serve. I have lots of questions about finals and their effect on students.

Why are we giving final exams? Is it because colleges give them? Our classes don’t meet twice a week or in large lectures. Our kids are subjected to plenty of tests. We are constantly testing (and that is another issue). Why are final exams so important? Large scale, high stakes tests are not a regular feature of adult life. What is our rationale for having them twice a year?

If the rationale for giving finals is college preparation, why do we excuse second semester seniors from finals when they are the students in most need of the preparation? Why do we give the same type of tests to our first semester freshman, who are months out of middle school and years away from college?

Why should all courses give finals at the same time? Clearly not all teachers are ready for finals since students regularly report that the pace of instruction nears warp speed as finals approach in many classes. Wouldn’t our assessments be more authentic if we didn’t give them in three days?

Is one seventy-five minute test the best indicator of eighteen weeks of learning? Can we get an accurate and fair picture of a student’s achievement through a single sampling?

Frequently, students’ performance on finals does not match their performance on other assessments. What does this mean? Do teachers question the effectiveness of their finals?  Some courses regularly curve the finals because students score poorly. Is a curve the best solution? What does it mean when many students don’t do well on a final?  Does moving the grade markers solve the real problem?

Here is my answer key:

Objective tests are easy to grade. They are easy to quantify. They are quick and dirty ways to measure what can be measured in numbers. Unfortunately, learning is messy. When all we look at is the statistics, we may miss the relationships, the growth, and the joy of learning.

Even when finals are more authentic, the weight and delivery of the test create significant issues. Why should one seventy-five minute experience or a single assignment be worth as much as four and half weeks of class time? Many teachers have decided that it shouldn’t. So their finals involve a project, paper, test, speech, blood sample, journey to Katmandu, and a pound of flesh! What a wonderful solution! I am not exaggerating when I tell you that one my children had a final that had so many pieces it lasted more than five weeks and threatened to eat her winter break!

For my freshmen, finals do one thing: ruin their grades. Students who have been earning A’s and B’s all semester long find that, thanks to one assessment, they have C’s. It is demoralizing. One of my colleagues suggested that we are coddling students with “effort” points and extra credit. She said that their quarter grades are artificially inflated and we need finals to measure their “real” ability. So finals are bait and switch; you thought you were doing well in class: surprise!  

The most correct answer is that finals are a hold over from the distant past. Like lecturing, rote memorization, and corporal punishment, we have found better ways to help kids learn. As more than thirty years of state achievement testing continues to teach us, these assessments do not improve children’s education. 

Could we create twenty first century finals? Maybe. It would far better to help kids actively apply and demonstrate their learning every day. Learning is never final. 

Coping with College

Here is the truth: I didn’t want my daughter to go back to college. This is, of course, just a selfish parental impulse. I am not going to prevent her from returning for the second semester. It has been great having her home for four wonderful weeks. I am struggling with the idea that it will be months until I see her again. And since my child is on the three-year program, it will be a year until we have more than a weekend together. So, as she packed for her return to school, I was wishing for another week – or four!

When my daughter is away at college, I miss her. I really miss her. It takes a great deal of self-control not to call every day, text each thought, or email article after article. It has taken every ounce of my willpower to let her control the communication. And I am told it is stalker-ish to sit on the college webcam hoping she’ll lead a tour across the quad.

It is not an exaggeration to say I count down the days until she comes home. Thanksgiving was a tease. My daughter did a great job of balancing her time between family and friends, and it still wasn’t enough. So when she went back to school, I consoled myself that it was only a few weeks until I would get a more substantial visit.

When we dropped her back at the airport, I held back my tears. I understood why my grandmother often became teary eyed when she hugged me. It wasn't enough time! I loved having her at home and I didn't fully appreciate what it would be like to have a home without her - and then to have her home for a tiny time.

So I counted down to winter break. I tried not to be intrusive during her final exam week. Instead, I checked on her flights and sat in her room. Finally, the week before my school’s winter break began, she returned.

And our home felt right again. Once again, there were four of us for dinner. Once again, we had to schedule who was taking the car. Her clothes and shoes took over the mudroom and her music could be heard across the house.

On vacation, we got ten whole days to be a family without distraction. We have done this almost every winter break since the kids were born. We took walks, ate meals, and played games without any competition from the outside world.

Now, I have been back in school a week. My daughter just returned to school…and I was still not ready. It doesn’t matter. This schedule is not dependent on my readiness. Maybe in a few weeks I would be ready. Maybe not. She went back anyhow. She was eager to go.

This is our new relationship. Absence has not made my heart grow any fonder. I don’t know that it could. Absence has just made me nostalgic for the days when both of my children lived under my roof. I know I will get used to this new situation. She has only been in college for one semester. Other parents tell me, although they were also sad when the kids left, they came to enjoy this new stage. I am not there yet. I am still mourning our old life. 

Until Then, We’re the Security System

Yes, we need gun control. We have needed it for decades. Since the Supreme Court says we can’t ban the weapons, perhaps we should ban the bullets or put high taxes on them and make them very expensive.  

I am pessimistic about Congress passing stricter gun laws. Outrage and anger is appropriate after horrors like the school shooting in Connecticut, the movie theatre shooting in Colorado, the Virginia Tech shooting, the Wisconsin temple shooting – you see the reason for my pessimism.

And while some schools (and shopping malls, movie theaters, and grocery stores) may create airport-like security check points, I am not sure that will be a viable or popular solution. I most certainly don’t want to see teachers (or anyone else) carrying weapons or armed guards outside of schools. The answer to gun violence is not more guns.

I have sent emails to my senators asking, point blank (pun intended), what they are going to do to prevent these events from happening. I have signed online petitions. Perhaps this time, it will be different.

Perhaps.

Until the political cost is high enough, our politicians won’t act. In the mean time, we need another approach. This issue is in our hands. How democratic.

So what do we do? First, we open our eyes and really see each other; we look beyond our boundaries and see the people with whom with share our communities. This doesn’t mean we become spies or snitches, quite the reverse. We reach out. We invite in. We ask, “What can I do to help?” and then we do it. Perhaps we do it before we ask.

As we walk the dog, ride the train, shop in the grocery store, or drop off our children at school, we greet people. We talk to people. We go beyond the superficial and connect. We reach across social lines and talk to new people. We build real and significant relationships and communities.

We can form alliances in our neighborhoods. We can take small and large political action. We can keep this issue from fading into the background until another terrible incident. For example, I wonder what would happen if the “buzz book” school directory had the option to put “weapon free” next to the listing for each home. What message would that send?

Granted, this people based security system is not perfect and will not completely protect our loved one. Neither will the doorbells, cameras, and locks on our children’s schools. This is a supplement. It is one more layer of coverage.

“But I do that! The people in Newtown probably did that, too! It didn’t help them! That isn’t enough.” True, it isn’t enough. We need a country where the mentally ill have better access to healthcare than they do to weapons, and where there is not only a human safety net but also a legal safety net to prevent catastrophes like these mass murders. Regulating or banning weapons would be a good start.  

In the meantime, we must rely on each other.  It is up to us. 

Ageless Apples

A student brought me an apple on my first day at Deerfield High School. It was not just any student. It was a senior varsity football player in my Beginning Acting class. I was twenty-two years old and the youngest teacher in the building. This young man was not only physically bigger than me, he was confident and comfortable. I was new and nervous.

I saved that apple. It sat on my desk and later I put it in a bell jar. I still have it.

Last week, I was at a restaurant with friends and that student stepped out of a booth. He looked at me and I looked at him. It was a wonderful moment. I remembered his name and he began to talk about our class. He remembered far more than I did. I was amazed. I was delighted. It was a marvelous moment and a beautiful gift.

Here we were, twenty-seven years later, talking about our experience together. We are only four years apart in age. His family was with him and much of mine was there. He wants visit his old high school and sit in on my theatre class. I hope he does.

I floated back to my table after our conversation. This is the gift that alumni give me. These brief glimpses into my students' post high school lives are special moments of memory and meaning. They may be the one of the best perks of being a teacher: seeing my students all grown up.

This is one of the reasons I enjoy Facebook. Although I often wish my students wouldn’t graduate, I know that is selfish. My job is help them develop skills so they don’t need me any more. Then they move on. That is how it should be.

But I miss them. I was walking down the hall and I saw a girl far away. For a moment, I thought it was a student from my homeroom. Then I realized she was at college. I had just hoped it was her.

After I left the restaurant, I went to a Shabbat service. One the congregants brought a guest: another former student! She is now a teacher and has children of her own. Twice in one evening, I got to touch the past by seeing the future.

Students stop visiting the high school when they graduate from college. It is rare to have older students visit. However, many of my former students are moving back to Deerfield with their spouses and children. Some are old enough to have kids in high school. It won’t be long until I have a former student’s child in class. That makes me feel old and really good.

I will not see a majority of my former students after they leave high school. I will bump into a handful. I will keep in touch with a few through Facebook or email. A small number have become friends. I have attended many of my former students’ weddings and other special events. I go out for coffee or a meal with several regularly. Most of them call me by my first name now.

The apple in the mason jar looks really ugly. It has not aged well. The kids, on the other hand, are ageless golden apples. They are worth keeping forever. I have faith that those I do not see are productive, happy, and making a difference. Seeing a few of them gives me hope for all of them. And I worry less. 

The Gift of You: My Deerprints Column

My grandmother was the only person I knew who sent a thank-you note for a thank-you note. I remember asking my father if I had to send a thank-you note for her thank-you note for my original thank-you note. But my grandmother knew what she was doing. She knew the importance of gratitude and courtesy, and she was skilled in the art of cultivating and maintaining relationships.

Many years ago, I was startled when a student said, “thank you” as she left our classroom. Usually, students were in the hall before the echo of the bell reverberated off the linoleum. “You’re welcome,” I replied, “and thank you, too!” It wasn’t the “thank you” that stuck with me. It was what it meant and the immediate effect it had on our relationship. It was only a little extra, but it was a special gift nonetheless.

Last spring, a colleague of mine and I spoke at the Shepard promotion ceremonies. Rather than give them lots of advice or brag about D.H.S., we decided to focus on one idea; we told the graduating eighth graders to say, “hi” in the halls. We advised them that building relationships, as much or more than building resumes, was what would make their high school careers meaningful and happy. The extra moment in the hall or classroom is a relationship changer.

In addition to planning for class, grading, going to meetings, and, of course, teaching, many educators spend hundreds of hours writing college recommendations. My wife writes about fifty to sixty letters a year! I write a handful. Of the hundreds of students whom we have helped with the college process, only a few ever acknowledge that effort. A few years ago, when I told parents, gathered at a fall parent meeting, that most students don’t even say the words, “thank you” to the teachers who have written their recommendations, there was an audible gasp.

Every May, I receive two or three emails from freshmen thanking me for my A Tale of Two Cities recordings. I save these emails. If you wrote one to me, I still have it. I have all of them. Want to see them? I have met some wonderful students because they took that little moment to send a note after finishing about eighteen hours of listening to me. I treasure these emails and the relationships they engender.

The theatre program at D.H.S. has a saying that expresses this idea well. They say, “The most important thing is the way we treat each other.” The smile or “hi” in the hall, the thank you at the end of class, the held door, or the quick acknowledgment are gifts we give each other. After all, we live together. We go to school together. We share this community. While we may not be family in the sense that I am not paying for your college tuition (well, I am paying for a select few), we work and learn together. We spend years together.

Our community is more than teachers and students. We build wonderful relationships with secretaries, custodians, teacher aides, security guards, technology staff, and many other people on our Deerfield journeys. They deserve thanks, too. We all have reason to sincerely thank each other. As my students know, I thank them at the end of every class period –and I mean it! When I say, “thank you for flying Freshman English,” (or whichever class it is), it is more than a dismissal. I treasure our time together and the relationships we form.

And I miss my students after they graduate. Many alumni become my friends on Facebook and I treasure each quick glimpse of their post-high school lives through pictures and comments. But my favorite gifts of the season are their visits before Thanksgiving and winter break. On my desk is a picture of my class of 2012 homeroom. I am hoping they stop by over the holidays. I just want to see them. I just want to know that everything is okay. I want to say, “thank you.”

Recently, I have been able to say, “thank you” to one of my teachers. We have been exchanging emails, and we are going to see each other when he comes to town in the summer.  My experience learning with him is one of the reasons I am in education. I am so grateful that I got to study with him and that we have renewed our relationship, a relationship that began in a classroom just like those at D.H.S.

Thanksgiving and the winter holidays are a good time to renew our relationships. This season is an opportunity to look at each other and affirm what we share. I like the holiday gifts that a few students drop off before winter break. Coffee cards and notepads are nice, but the real presents are the relationships.

Long after we have forgotten thesis or theme, formula or fact, we will remember the time we spent together. That is the real reason to celebrate this season. That is why it is so important to treat each other well. That is why “thank you” means so much.