I remember the first time I received a C. In fact, it
was the only C I ever earned on a report card, and it was in 3rd
grade for handwriting. I recall feeling disappointed and vowing to never allow
that to happen again. As a teacher, I dwell in a different space. While I was
completely invested in what grade I earned, I do not have that level of
investment in my students’ grades. Do not mistake this for apathy. I care
beyond measure. However, I could care less if Suzy gets an A while Veronica
gets a B. My care lies in the understanding of what those letters convey to
first to the student then to those vested in the student outside the classroom.
Beyond the letter, I care about the level of happiness, engagement, curiosity,
and thought that every student experiences in my room. But, the powers at be mandate
that I must rate, score, and judge learning and assign a value. Those grades
are supposed to represent something, but do they really?
Most schools utilize scores on a scale of 0 to 100.
One might argue that if a student scores one of these, the message is clear.
But I would argue not even scores that represent all or nothing actually
represent that. I will begin with 0. Does that score mean Julie knows nothing
about which I’m assessing? Or does this mean she did nothing? Did she learn
nothing, or did she simply show nothing? On the opposite side, does 100
represent knowing everything about something? I teach language arts, so if I
score a paper at 100 (which is infrequent), does that mean everyone will see it
as perfect? Of course there is the matter of context. In order to properly
understand what a score is trying to convey, one must understand the learning objectives
that were being assessed. As a parent, I must confess that I don’t often look at
my child’s score and then inquire of the teachers about the learning
objectives. Instead, I simply assume they know 87% of something. That’s my
judgment. I’m guessing my students’ parents do same thing. But is the percent
score actually a percent of something? Most of the time it’s not a % complete-
that’s definitely frowned upon, but if a student leaves a question blank- for
whatever reason- then it sort of is. For as much as we try to quantify student
learning, I think we just don’t.
For this reason, I am skeptical of grades. Also, I do
not and will not give zeros. Yep. I said it. Slavin (2012) breaks down why
zeros are essentially the death penalty of grades; they are black holes that
suck the potential out of typically already struggling students. That’s the
opposite of my job! I’m in this to cultivate, grow, foster, mentor not tear
down, punish, or belittle. I get it. If a student does nothing, how can I
ethically assign any credit? I can and do because the scale system is
fundamentally flawed, and thus I have more ethical problems with participating in
breaking down the morale of kids than giving credit where none was earned. Moreover,
I give assignments because I believe something in the task will make them a
better thinker. So I figure out a way to get the student to do the tasks.
Rarely do I enter a “student never turned in.” Instead, I track them down at
lunch and give them the work until it’s done. I contact parents. I consult
colleagues. I conference with the student. And I give them a why. I care about
that.
About grades, I could care less. As long as my
students know where they stand, I’m good. Recently, a parent approached me in
the community and told me, “Mrs. Drake, my daughter was just talking last night
about how she has never thought so hard in a class before.” Now that, I care
about. I want to push these kids to think wildly- to ponder- and discover the
wonder of thought. My mom will tell you that when I was first learning to
speak, my favorite word was why. Funny, it still is. If you write something,
and your reader is left wondering why, you weren’t done explaining. If your
child tells you they want to be a truck driver, don’t judge, ask why. Getting
kids engaged in metacognitive activities opens their cognitive processes and allows
possibility. As a nation, we need that. We need thinkers who see possibility in
complex problems. Scoring them won’t help that, but teaching them will. And
that’s definitely all I care about.
Slavin, R. E. (2012). Educational psychology: Theory and
practice (10th ed.). Boston,
MA: Pearson Education.