I haven’t really seen grading presented as an ableist practice, but after attending a workshop at UMass, I can see how framing it that way illustrates the problems of grading in a thought-provoking way. Why ableist? Here’s an analogy: I’m certainly not *able* to contend with the top archers in the nation, but no one is forcing me to, either. It’s a choice. My lack of ability doesn’t close any doors. I just won’t win a medal. Yet elementary and secondary school is not an option for kids. Placing grading obstacles in the way of their learning and future learning is a bit like disallowing me to go to my local archery range until I were to place among the top athletes in the nation. So, consider these common characteristics of graded assignments as we unpack each one through an ableist perspective:
I’ve shared that I’m taking the first of four courses towards Harvard’s Instructional Leadership Certificate. I really do find the course almost entirely helpful, which is a big endorsement from someone who’s been mostly disappointed by gen ed PD, and I would still recommend it.
Then there’s the points…
As I’ve revisited the problem with points, I also just experienced it firsthand as a student. In the course, there were optional message board activities each week with various point values for posting, replying, and/or “liking,” etc. There was a suggested minimum to “earn” over the six weeks, and a weekly maximum. But some points carried over to the next week. Not all. There was a maximum carry over limit beyond the maximum. As you see, this was not a straightforward system.
Now, I hadn’t been paying attention to the points, or perhaps better expressed, I actively tried to AVOID looking at those points. In short, when there was something to add to a topic and there were a couple replies between me and another participant, the weekly point maximum was met. Since I spent a lot of time posting and replying, I maxed out points each week.
Well, the Week 4 module didn’t really speak to me, so I did my OPTIONAL post, and didn’t really go back to look at what the other participants had to say. No biggie, right? Especially since I was nearing that six-week maximum at the end of the fourth week. What I find absolutely frustrating, though, is that I received an automated email “reminder to participate” at some point late in the week. That was just…insulting. I felt like replying “FU, bro. I’ve almost reached the limit, and these are friggin’ OPTIONAL?!” Oh, and I got another notification the following week, and a final notification after I completed the coursework. This only increased my frustration considering I had already overshot the maximum. Thanks, Harvard.
So, while the point (heh) of the message board was to encourage discussion and further learning, I was being told that I wasn’t doing it the way someone wanted me to do it. Makes me wonder how many teachers are trying to control their students in similar ways.
It’s been a couple years since I first read Grading for Equity, attended its 3-day workshop, and wrote a series of posts the in winter of 2022 on grading practices that scholars have shown to be inequitable. One perplexing thing, though, is that I do find myself around teachers who implement those inequitable practices daily, yet by all observable accounts still have high levels of equity! I’m not suggesting that the scholars are wrong. I’m also not suggesting that teachers should continue using those practices. Instead, I want to revisit why points are so bad, and then consider what else is at play in the classroom that might keep things equitable (to a limited extent). Oh, and this post doesn’t get into ANYTHING about dealing with points from a teacher bookkeeping perspective, which is enough of a hassle on its own.Even the teacher who somehow hasn’t heard of the word “equity” would benefit from ditching points altogether.
I’m taking the first of four courses towards Harvard’s Instructional Leadership Certificate. It’s relatively affordable. Plus…it’s pretty good! Although my own interests have moved towards grading and working with educators, teaching a second language is my anchor. No doubt I’ll be working with second language teachers in the future as well, so here’s one managing routine from the Harvard course that somehow flew under my radar all these years…
There are three broad categories of grading criteria that have the potential to unite all teachers in the effort to grade more equitably, effectively, and efficiently. Bold claim—I know—yet I’m confident there’s something for everyone. In fact, I’m dying to hear what could be missing, so leave a comment if you think of a fourth “p” or something that doesn’t fall under one of the others. Guskey’s three categories were lurking in a 1996 article (“Reporting On Student Learning…”). He opens with a quote that sounded like it could’ve been written by a contemporary scholar, yet on the next page reveals that it was from 1933! Confirming my own experience with reading studies dating back to the early 1900s, Guskey saw consistent findings 60 years before his article, which now is approaching 30 years old. We’re talking about nearly a century of consensus on some things. One of those things is that everything teachers grade can fall under the following three broad categories of criteria:
Product – Grading what students know and can do at a certain time Process – Grading how students get there Progress – Grading how much students gain
These categories support my use of—and advocation for—grading process, and I’ve had an interest in grading progress, or what I’ve been calling “growth.” I’ve avoided grading product entirely. Why? My experience has been that learner differences seem far too amplified in a second language class for us to grade language ability in that way. In addition, recent discussions about grading performance & competency (i.e., product) do suggest there’s litte reason to do so. Regardless, we don’t have to go ahead and nix grading product altogether, especially if that’s what most teachers need to hold onto to get on board. Therefore, let’s look into how grading any one, or all three categories of product, process, or progress could unite teachers in a common pursuit of equitable, effective, and efficient grading (or ungrading)…
After 10 years of teaching, I left the classroom in 2023. Since then, I’ve earned an Ed.S., passed comprehensive exam, and have proposed my dissertation, making me a Candidate for a Ph.D. in Teacher Education. I research grading, assessment, and feedback at the classroom, and work with pre-service educators. Here are my most up-to-date practices—frozen in time like Pompeii or Herculaneum right up to my last day in the classroom—that were fundamental to my teaching, making all the daily activities possible…
In my continued grading research, most systems I come across do seem to be a step in the right direction, but don’t quite go far enough to address the problem of grades taking away focus from learning. Contract grading is one of the systems that misses the mark because it tends to actually bring all the focus to a grade.
Someone in my grad program recently mentioned how grading should be completely based on what students can do. This idea was challenged by another who said that it certainly makes sense if you’re “the last step” before a career (e.g., administering licensing tests, or proving you can do an actual job via some performance), but what about when students are still in the learning phase? This was a good point. How long does a typical learning phase last before you’d expect, or even need to grade performance & competency? What if you—the person ultimately responsible for that grade—are not “the last step?”
What if you’re a college instructor for a 100-level survey course? What if you’re a 10th grade math teacher? What if you’re a middle-school science teacher? What if you’re an elementary school reading specialist? Surely, a high-functioning society doesn’t rely on any of these people giving summative grades based on performance & competency as if it were “the last step.” Placing these kind of obstacles during the learning process long before the rubber hits the road isn’t something we should be doing.
KDP announced higher printing costs. As a result, my novellas on Amazon are increasing to $8. However, I’ve kept the deals on my Square site to about $5 per book to continue supporting teachers getting multiple copies for the classroom. Yes, there is a shipping cost. For everyone used to Prime free shipping, that cost might seem alarming. Yet it’s a reality I’m very familiar with having experience working at a UPS Store. Still comes out cheaper than Amazon, though.
Also, I’ll be updating my novella list over the next month to check prices. That’s about 150 books, though, so if you find a discrepancy, just contact me with the update. Thanks!
diāria sīderum is a personal favorite. I think this one is my best, honestly, though it appears to be an unlikely choice for the Classicist Latin teacher. Then again, they’re not the ones reading the book. Students are! The sci-fi/fantasy narrative has a bit of a “who dunnit?” feel to it, with students seeking to figure out what made the book’s ancient culture disappear. It’s in three parts using half cognates. The first part has 30 cognates and 30 other words (i.e., 60 total), and the other two parts add 20 and 20 words to that, respectively (i.e., 100 total). It was written so that my Latin 1 class could read a 1000-word long intro to “The Architects” in Part 1 to get a sense of what was going on just before their disappearance. Then, during independent reading, anyone interested could finish Parts 2 and 3 that provide more clues as to what happened.
Magister P. 