How do we move our
practice to an inch wide and a mile deep?
Moving to an inch wide will provide
the time needed to give deeper, more meaningful and effectual feedback. As
educators, it’s our responsibility to create the time to do this good work. In
order to create the time to be more thoughtful in feedback and evaluation, we
must find a way to trim some of the breadth from our curriculum. We must find
the time to use assessment as feedback “of” and “for” learning rather using it
to measure a final product. Assessment, whether formative or summative, when
left void or lacking of effectual feedback, leaves too much ambiguity and in
the end can discourage students from learning.
We need to move past
the need to finalize students’ work with a percentage or letter grade. We
realize this is a difficult task because the students and their parents want
the grades. …or do they? It could be argued that the true power of a
grade is really the affirmation and acknowledgement that comes with getting a
good grade. There's the epiphany - it’s not the grades they crave,
but rather the feedback that tells them they’re doing well, that they're ok,
that they're fitting in.
The truth of the
matter is, a single snapshot view of a student’s progress is convenient and
easy to fit into a report card, but it does not encapsulate a measure of what a
student is truly capable of. Assigning a letter grade and/or a percentage has
lasting effects. We must be cognizant of this before we put mark to paper. The
number one most important principle for the use of assessment and data should
be to first do no harm. In education today, can we honestly say we’re all doing
this?
Food for thought:
In a recent
conversation with an elementary student, I was shown a piece of artwork she
created at school. She proudly displayed it and said that she got a
"B" on it. Without skipping a beat, she explained that she didn’t
colour it with enough shading and the lines were not defined enough to get an
"A". She then said, “I’m not that good at art anyway”. Knowing what
she needed to do to improve was a good sign, but I suspect the outcome was not supposed to be that she state "I'm not that good at art". Why
assign a letter grade at all? The lesson learned was if she had colored it in
more succinctly, she would have gotten an "A". Was that the lesson
being taught? What about the self-expression, the symbolism, the deeper meaning
that is found in creating art. This happens all too often in our schools.
Far too often, letter grades are assigned with platitudes of reasons for how
they were arrived at.
Here’s another
example. A senior student hands in a written assignment and the teacher assigns
a mark of 8/10 on it. The student then asks the teacher why they got 8 and not
10. The teacher struggles to explain it and concludes that they feel it was
worth 80% not 100%. How often does this happen? Or maybe a better
question should be, how often does this happen and the student doesn’t
challenge the mark and just accepts the 8/10 at face value. What recourse
do students have if they aren't getting the specific feedback they desire? The
issue at hand is, as educators, we must be able to fully explain our assessment
practices. When we find ourselves getting defensive, the answer lies within our
assessment practices.
As pointed out in the
previous post, Peter Drescher argues that we should be moving to an inch wide
and a mile deep in our curriculum objectives. Providing the time to offer
deeper, richer more meaningful feedback is the basis for learning and ensures
we’re mindful of the real effects grades have on our
students. A mark left untethered of feedback leaves too many unanswered
questions. On its own, what does a letter grade or percentage actually mean?
For example, take a grade of say 78%… what does it mean?
- The
student mastered 78% of the curriculum.
- The
student only acquired 78% of the whole curriculum.
- The
student is missing 22% of what is required to master the course.
- The student
is slightly less than one standard deviation above the mean.
- The
student got a B
- The
student is 8% away from an A
- The
student can’t get into university
- The
student did exceptionally well…considering…
- Does
a 78% mean the same thing for one student as it does for another? Should it?
- If
students can demonstrate their abilities in a variety of different ways maybe
the way in which the 78% was determined undermined the true ability of the
student.
- If
student’s strengths don’t rise up within the rigid definition of what 78%
represents, then they may not be celebrated for what they can actually do.
As educators, we need
to honour the great responsibility we have in assessing our students. Just as
other professionals swear an oath to honour and uphold the greatest of good in
their work, maybe it's our time we make our own declaration. Here’s a
tongue-in-cheek adaptation from the medical profession’s Hippocratic Oath:
I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:
- I will respect the hard work of those educators in whose steps I walk, and
gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow.
- I will apply, for the benefit of my students, all measures that are required,
avoiding those twin traps of over-assessment and educational nihilism.
- I will remember that there is an art to teaching as well as a science, and
that warmth, empathy, and understanding often carries greater weight than the
teacher’s final grade or assessment of prescribed learning outcome.
- I will not be ashamed to say, "I know not", nor will I fail to
call on my colleagues when the skills of another are needed to ensure my
students learn.
- I will tread with care when providing feedback on the mastery of learning
outcomes. If it is given to me to promote my pupil, all thanks. But it may also
be within my power to grant re-writes and offer explicitly direct feedback;
this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness
of my own shortcomings. Above all, I must not be all knowing and omnipotent.
- I will remember that I do not teach a learning disability or an attention
deficit disorder, but a student, whose desire to learn is captivated and cared
for by an extended family. My responsibility includes all these related
problems, if I am to care adequately for all my students.
- I will offer feedback at all times, whenever I can, for feedback is the
key to learning.
- I will remember that I remain a member of society with special obligations
to all my fellow human beings, those quick of mind as well as those needing
extra support.
- If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I
live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to
preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy
of teaching those who cross my path.
(Tongue-in-Cheek
adaptation from the Medical Profession's Hippocratic Oath)
Well maybe not
so tongue-in-cheek…
Identify the
stakeholders… Trust the process… Trust the people… Edu-Bring