Things to avoid Part 1: Grading accuracy, participation, and engagement/effort

 

There was a discussion on a Facebook group page that asked for guidance regarding grades and grade books.  I was surprised to see the number of teachers who count things like accuracy, participation, and effort.   

Now, my thinking has changed a bit, especially on participation and effort, as I continue to decolonize my classroom, my teaching practice, and my curriculum in my journey to become a more equitable educator. 

 (Update on that: I am also a Teaching Assistant now for the MITx class, Becoming a More Equitable Educator, that was so impactful for me last year, and it is just as impactful going through it again and working with learners from ALL OVER THE GLOBE in their pursuit to become more equitable educators.  It is *free* and great.)  

I am really struggling with where classroom management, white supremacy and systems of oppression, and my classroom practice intersect, but I have no clarity, so I am going to keep struggling on that and asking questions and seeing what I can think of.

However, over the course of my work and collaborations with amazing educators, I have really come to understand more about the role that grading for effort, accuracy, and participation/engagement play in a comprehension based classroom. I don't think I have all the answers, but I have some strong thoughts! 

 In terms of grading for participation, effort, and accuracy, I would say that all of those concepts may allow teacher bias to strongly interfere with grades.  They create systems of  rewarding some students for being better at "playing school", and reinforce a "numbers=learning" mindset.  And of course, if some students get rewarded, other students are going to be penalized.  

As I continue to work with teachers on assessment and grading practices, this student (and caregiver) mindset about numbers (percentages, points) being the equivalent of learning is consistently the number one issue that teachers have, so it is worth considering how our classroom practices play into creating the situation in the first place.  Remember that effort and participation might look a lot like compliance, and grading for compliance is never a good idea. Read my previous posts about grading for accountability, which is another way to say compliance.

Grading for Accuracy 

Since students have no control over the rate at which they acquire, grading for accuracy on a daily basis is going to reward only faster processors and punish other students for not being faster processors.   

Research about Ordered Development tells us that language features (verbs, word order, what we think of as grammar, etc.) is acquired in an order that is independent of instruction. 

That is to say, it doesn't matter how many times or how creatively a Spanish teacher teaches the difference between ser and estar (to be and the other to be) or the difference between the preterite and imperfect past tenses, students will not produce them until their brain is ready, and when they have traversed the developmental stages of acquisition for that word (or language feature).  Furthermore, learners move through those stages in a non-linear fashion!   They may be able to use a feature accurately one day, then in another context revert back to an earlier phase of development.  This developmental order plays out in every language, for every language feature, no matter what the learner's first language is. We see it in first language development as well.  For more information about ordered development, there is a paywalled article in Hispania by Dr. Bill VanPatten, as well as his great books available from ACTFL: The Nature of Language and While We're On The Topic".   

Accuracy is probably the least important component of proficiency.  Consider: for those of you that have very young children, can they communicate with you?  Of course! It is usually imperfect and often adorable, but it is communication. For those of us who prefer four-legged furry friends, do you know when your dog or cat wants something? I sure do, and I speak terrible Dog and her English is just as poor. But we communicate! (Usually.)   

Why would we expect our students to communicate about something accurately after mere tens of hours of instruction? Even after hundreds of hours (600+) of instruction, the rather small percentage of students who reach a proficiency level of Intermediate Mid (ACTFL proficiency scale) can only do so much.  For example, they can handle concrete, familiar, and predictable situations but might have difficulty linking ideas and time frames, and they are not expected to be accurate speakers of the language.  Read about that study here, and my analysis of it when published:  What Standards Should I set for my students? 

In short, we should not grade students for accuracy, especially on a daily or weekly basis.  

Grading for Effort

Effort is another tricky concept. Many teachers say that if students are trying, then they are making the effort. But what does that look like? Does "trying" look the same across cultural contexts? Does my "trying" look the same as someone else's? And if the teacher sees someone trying, but doesn't see someone else, who gets the reward (the grade)?  

This goes right along with the familiar teacher practice of "well, little Johnny tried really hard so I will just bump up their grade because they deserve it."  Now, that is coming from a place of love and support, but wow- there are so many issues with that!  

First, if we bump up one kid's grade, why don't we bump up another? Who are we to judge how hard one kid tried and value that over another? Do we have the right to make those calls? 

Again, I guarantee that our implicit biases are going to come into play.  If we bump up the grade, do little Johnny and their caregivers have an inflated idea about what they can do in the language? Or does it mean that little Johnny gets credit despite not being able to meet a performance target?  

Grading for effort is a dangerous road, fraught with opportunities to let implicit biases reward students who understand the dominant cultural norms of the classroom and/or fit the teacher's definition of trying hard.  

Participation

Participation is also one of those concepts that needs to be carefully considered. The silent period (lasting 6 months to two years) is a documented stage of language acquisition. We also know that students do not need to be speaking in order to acquire language (they do need to be participating in communicative events, but that doesn't mean speaking!) 

Students who are not neuro-typical may demonstrate participation differently, as might students from other cultures. Again, teacher bias may strongly affect these grades, rewarding kids who are good at "playing school" and/or who understand the norms of the dominant culture.

But What About Engagement?

But wait! Don't you ask students to engage in class?  Don't you expect them to take risks and try to use the language?  

The answers to those concerns are COMPLICATED.

Engagement and participation are DIFFERENT in my book. Participation often looks like forcing kids to speak before the words come pouring out of them, or to speak in complete sentences. It also might be coupled with the belief that students must take risks in order to acquire language.  

I do not believe that students should feel like they are taking risks in speaking in my class.  My goal (and it *is* a high bar, I recognize) is that they feel like they have so much to say and they want to say it so badly that words just pour out.  

Engagement is something that I am really working through.  In order to meet the need for enough grades in a grade book, in my last school placement I asked students to self-assess on behaviors that support language acquisition, then I recorded that grade. (You can read more about what I used to do in this blog post: What goes in the Grade Book.)  After a while, I continued to ask students to self-assess, but recorded it less and less.  The practice was useful in some ways, but now I am really asking myself some hard questions about how I was rewarding those kids who played school (and penalizing others, including students from different cultural backgrounds and those who would be considered to be neurally diverse), and how I can try to reach the same goals (helping students self-regulate and attend to the input) while eliminating white supremacist culture in my classroom.  This is an ongoing exploration for me.  Whew!  

I truly believe that the way we grade can help us become more equitable educators, and that the way we grade should help all students believe that they are capable of successfully acquiring another language. 

Becoming an Anti-Racist Educator: Where to Begin

I two-timed the blog world, sorry!  Click on the link to see my post about Becoming an Anti-Racist Educator over on the Comprehensible Classroom's blog.

Two toxic moments in staff meetings and what we can learn about being truly inclusive

This is a post that I want to write because these incidents happened.  There are a lot of other incidents that don't necessarily rise to the top in the pile of indignities, assumptions,  and examples of ignorance that are part of the life of being a bi-racial Latinx woman who is white passing and who is not afraid to speak up.  Name spelling and pronunciation, anyone?  (And yes, I acknowledge the great privilege I carry with my light colored skin and hair color.)

These things happen, and I think we can learn from them. So, stick with me.  This is not about comprehensible input.  It is about being better teachers.  And hopefully better humans.  

Anyway, let me give some background.

If you have read my blog for a while, you maybe know that one great passion of mine is inclusion, with the related passions of diversity, social justice, anti-bias, and dismantling the system of oppression and racism and bias that we live with every day.   

One key idea for me in being inclusive is that each member of my classroom (and hopefully community) feels safe and seen for who they are and what they need. They feel safe to say no if they are uncomfortable, or to ask a question if they don't get it.  They feel safe talking, or not talking.  

One of the greatest compliments that I have ever been given was in feedback about a presentation I did this summer.  I am putting it out here because it makes me feel great (because I read this blog too!) and because this idea of safety goes hand in hand with consent.  I am grateful that what I try to do was seen.  

[Elicia] was so open and engaging that she made each of us in the over-crowded room feel welcome. She modeled many important social-emotional practices: tiny physical "brain breaks" to reset our tired minds, differentiating by offering different options and encouraging us to make the activities we liked our own, responding to all suggestions and comments with "yes and", and above all, modeling asking consent for every little thing - "do you mind if I use your picture?" "may I use you as an example?" 

So this work is not just part of my teaching practice, it is who I am and what I bring to the classroom.  I believe in it and it's important to me.     

Fast forward to some incidents in staff meetings.  I want to be clear that I don't have issue with the activities I am describing.  I have concerns with the responses made by my peers, and I want to bring to light some of the embedded assumptions that are made when choosing these activities.   And I want to highlight what a good response to these kinds of incidents looks like. 

After these incidents, I sat down with my administrator and shared my concerns and we made a good plan to address them.  I am really thankful that I have a administrator who makes time and takes time to hear me, and takes these concerns very seriously.  

#1: In a getting-to-know you activity, there is a soccer ball being with questions written on it being tossed around. When you catch it, you answer the question that your right thumb lands on.  This game was being modeled as one that could be played in class or in our advisory groups, with kids.  Some questions were about favorite things, like breakfast cereals, and others were things like "what makes you sad?". 

Let's digest that for a minute.  First, what are the assumptions there?  

• Everyone in the community knows about breakfast cereals.  
• Everyone gets to eat breakfast.
• Everyone is feeling comfortable with getting a ball tossed at them.
• Everyone has the physical ability to catch the soccer ball. 
• Everyone feels comfortable talking about what makes them sad.  (Because you know what makes me sad?  Surviving this.  Is that really what people want to hear?  Trust me, the answer is usually no.) 

Being me, I asked the person running the game what happens if a student doesn't want to answer that question. (Because if I don't speak up, who will?)  Before an answer could be given, someone snickered and made a very belittling comment about what a stupid question that was, that they (the students) could answer the questions.  

Wait- WHAT?  Do we not want all students to feel safe?  Do we not acknowledge that students come from different backgrounds?  

The game leader (our very thoughtful admin) quickly responded "oh sure, great question- have them answer one near their thumb" and moved on.   

So, on one hand, I feel like the admin heard the question, acknowledged its value, and answered it.  I felt seen and heard.  But on the other hand, not only was my question belittled, there was no awareness from at least one colleague that it might be relevant. 

#2:  In a later activity, several pictures of a prominent sports figure were projected, displaying different emotions.  The activity was an emotional check-in.  The pictures were of this sports figure with different facial expressions, and we were supposed to put our initials next to the image that best expressed our emotional state.  

Again, let's dig in to some assumptions about the activity: 

• Everyone can read facial expressions and assign meaning to them.
• All participants know who the sports figure is.
• Everyone is comfortable sharing their emotional state.

I was not super happy for a number of reasons when this activity occurred.  But more frustrating to me was that I had no idea who the sports figure was and I didn't really know what the expressions were.  I asked who the person was (because asking about the expressions felt like it would open me up to ridicule, so I chose instead what I thought was a safer route).  The admin quickly responded, telling me the name and sport. No biggie.  

But my colleagues gaped.  "You don't know who X is?" "Do you know who Y is either?"  "How can you not know who X is?" "Are you serious?"  

I was shocked.  Like, really, really shocked.  Hurt, disappointed, sad, angry, and a dozen other negative emotions.

I want to reiterate what I said at the beginning of this post.  I did speak to my administrator. He heard me. We made a plan. I felt heard and seen and respected.  It's ok and I'm ok.  But it is a solid example of embedded assumptions and of not treating each other with respect and kindness.  And of side conversations getting out of control.   

Imagine if I was a kid in a class where that happened.  Maybe I'm 12 and growing in all kinds of new places.  Maybe I am new to the school.  Maybe my family doesn't allow screen use at all.  Maybe I just lost my parent. Maybe I ...there are a million maybes.  But I am sure that in that moment, I have completely lost the trust of that kid.  Note that the person running the activities, the "teacher" (admin, in this case), handled each moment with consideration and kindness.  It was the side talk, the outside conversations that were harmful.  

And please, I am not saying that every kid needs to be coddled and treated like a precious snowflake.  I believe deeply in the gift of failure, the power of hearing no, and the growth that those bring.   

But friends, they see a lot more of the real world than we think.  And they are still kids.  

I can not control what happens to them outside of my classroom.  I can commit to making my classroom as safe as possible.  Especially in 2019.  

What can I take away from these situations as a teacher? (Hopefully they will apply to you too.) 

For me,  it is to critically examine the actual things I do in the classroom and constantly ask myself what assumptions I am making.  Yes, it is exhausting.  I am going to do it anyway.

It is also to take a moment before reacting- to questions, to comments, to actions.  But especially to questions.  If I want to give an eye roll or a smirk, I need to check that right at the door. Because it is legitimate to someone.  

I need to keep focusing on creating a community where those kind of side comments can't happen (through procedures) and don't happen (through community building) and when (not if; I am only human) they do, I own it and address it.

I need to remember to take a cue from my administrator.  He never got defensive.  He owned what happened, apologized sincerely, and together we found a way to repair it.  

Most important, I need to keep asking questions and question other peoples' assumptions.   

I need to remember that it takes courage to ask questions and call attention to unpopular ideas and call people out on their assumptions.  And sometimes I am going to feel bad or unwelcome.  (These weren't even about race. Think about that.)   I need to remember that is who I am- courageous- and find ways to connect with communities that support me and that build me up and help me when I'm down.   

What's new this year #2: Positive adjectives

If you know me or have been reading this blog for a while, you know that diversity, inclusion, and social justice are as important to me as comprehensible input.

There are so many ways that these two passions meet and I am so grateful for the privilege to think hard and try to eliminate bias and use inclusive pedagogy in my teaching.  I am grateful to my colleagues and friends who want to talk about bias, and to the university (where I am an adjunct teaching a Methods course) for providing training and support in deconstructing bias and being more inclusive.  I just finished reading "Why are all the black kids sitting together in the cafeteria" and my mind is racing with ways I can bring some of the things I learned into my classroom.

In the meantime, while I cogitate, I want to share one thing that I changed this year that has had a HUGE impact on classroom culture and teaching.

Years ago, I attended a workshop presented by Elevate Education Consulting (Anna Gilcher and Rachelle Jackson) about how to be more inclusive and reflect positive values through TPRS stories.  It was life-changing, and I have continued to attend workshops and presentations by this amazing duo.  One of their handouts includes a list of diversity-positive attributes.  (This is *not* the link that will take you to the most updated version, but it is all I could find!)

Although I had the list by my side, I never made it visible to the kids.

This year, I decided to buy a $3.00 window shade from a home decor store (bad call, should have paid more as it falls constantly, but it works!) and write out the adjectives with their definitions (in light blue because that was the only blue sharpie I could find).

What I have seen:
The students ask for me to pull the shade down when we do birthday compliments.
They have started using the words even when I don't have it visible.
Our TPRS stories are kinder, more inclusive, and more real.

This was *so* simple.  But I think it makes things nicer!