Do Letter Grades Matter?

Is this true, Alfie?

A few years ago, I was taking summer course at UBC as part of my Master's degree.  The professor, while quite young, was certainly "old school" in his assessment practices.  I got back an essay I'd submitted and the only thing he'd written on the paper when he handed it back was "84%."  No notes, no feedback, nothing more than that 84 percent. There was criteria, no rubric, not even a hint given of what he was looking for.  I thought, "This must be all I am capable of.  Otherwise he would have made suggestions.  I am a B!"  I pondered that a while, then realized how silly I was being.  A grade on an essay cannot define who you are - or can it?

Recently, after hearing a parent complain about the lack of a report card from her child's teacher, although she conceded that she knew she could speak to the teacher anytime to get an update, I began to wonder if the students themselves are missing formal reports. (As part of the BCTF strike, teachers are not writing reports.)

I decided to interview some intermediate students.  I started by asking, kind of tongue in cheek, "If you are not getting report cards, why are you working?"  Here are some of their replies:

I'm working just in case the strike ends and we get report cards.
I want to get smarter and go to college and get a good job.
I want to learn more.
We are still getting marks on our work.
I like school.
I want to avoid being in trouble.
So I can go to the next grade.

Next, I asked, "If your teacher were to write a report card today, do you think you know what grades you would get?"

No, I don't know.
I think so, but I'm not 100% sure.
I think I'm failing, but my Mum doesn't care because I'm moving next year.


"Do marks cause you anxiety?"


Yes, I get grounded if my marks aren't good.
I get paid for good letter grades.
Yes, if my mark is below 70%.  But that is a C, which is "satisfactory."   Not at my house!
I needed a report card to apply for a scholarship to a private school, and because I did not get one, I could not apply.

As you can see, there was a range of opinions expressed about report cards and assessment. I now have more questions rattling around in my brain:

Are we using report cards like carrots and sticks?
Do they really tell a parent, or next year's teacher, about the student's progress and their potential?
Is there a better way we could be communicating this information?
Do report cards help students learn?
Do they contribute to the Matthew affect - where the "poor get poorer and the rich get richer?"

Author and educational researcher Alfie Kohn shares this bit of wisdom:

A student asked his Zen master how long it would take to reach enlightenment.  “Ten years,” the master said.  But, the student persisted, what if he studied very hard?  “Then 20 years,” the master responded.  Surprised, the student asked how long it would take if he worked very, very hard and became the most dedicated student in the Ashram.  “In that case, 30 years,” the master replied.  His explanation:  “If you have one eye on how close you are to achieving your goal, that leaves only one eye for your task.”

To read more about Kohn's ideas on grading and assessment, visit his website www.alfiekohn.org

And let me know what your memories of school and grades are, good, bad or ugly.


 
 
 

Looking Forward

Even though we still have six months left in this school year, we are starting to think ahead to NEXT year, with the imminent registration for Kindergarten and Grade 5 French Immersion.  Even though our school has grown by over one hundred students and will continue to grow, I think we have maintained our small school feel, and welcomed our new students and families into our school community.

In his academic writing, John McKnight, professor of Education and Social Policy at Northwestern University, describes five indicators of community.  The first is Capacity, which can be described as, "the extent to which an enterprise or a nation, or an organization like a school,  actually uses its potential output."  It is, perhaps, our most important to work:  to build capacity in the students in in ourselves as teachers.  How can we tap into human potential most effectively, so that all learners feel themselves to be growing socially, emotionally, physically and academically?  That is our most pressing question.

The second indicator of community is Collective Effort.  There are countless examples of people working together in our school, from the teachers collaboration and sharing, to the students working and learning together, to the members of the basketball team practicing their game along with their coaches.  Humans are meant to work together - they are small group beings - as Johnston and Johnston put it.

The third indicator is Informality.  We are informal when we play and laugh together, when we sing and make music, when we are good and caring listeners.  While we cling to some formal structures and manners and rituals in schools, there are still many opportunities to be informal with one another.  Students appreciate having choices and flexibility in their learning, as much as the adults like to have autonomy in how and what they teach.  In some other countries, the curriculum and expectations for its delivery are so rigid and oppressive, I cannot imagine how there can be much joy in teaching or learning.

Stories are the fourth indicator.  Personally, I think that learning is ALL about stories.  Sometimes they are subtle, embedded, or simply implied, like in the teaching of Pythagorus' Theorum or why the English language is as quirky as it is.  But more often, the stories are right in front of us: in picture books, in novels, for sure, but also in history and science and math and technology.  We tell each other stories all the time - it is how we engage, entertain, persuade, influence, and conflict with one another.  And what are the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves?  I wonder about this all the time, like when a student comes to the office for misbehaviour, or when they do poorly on a test or assignment, do they tell themselves, "This is who I am and always will be" or have we helped them know that it is okay to make mistakes, and nurture better, more optimistic outlooks?

The fifth indicator of community is celebration.  It's kind of sad that we sometimes have to remind ourselves to celebrate.  It seems easier sometimes to focus on what is NOT working.  Why is that?As Goldie Hahn says in her MindUp Curriculum, we want to "equip our children with the skills they need to live smarter, healthier, and happier lives.  Together we will create optimistic classrooms where children successfully cope with the stresses they face in school, at home, and in their communities." 

It's hard to be optimistic when we hear so much bad news and sad stories in the news.  But thank you for being the kind of people who support and encourage another, as we have seen in recent times of loss and crisis.  That is definitely something to celebrate.

Season's Greetings

Before we go off for our winter holidays, I would like to share how grateful I am to be part of the Squamish Elementary School community.  I have taught in nine schools in the past twenty years: in Vancouver, Richmond,  at HSSS, Mamquam, Brackendale, and this is my fourth year at Squamish.  In my experience, I have never encountered such  affectionate, caring students as we have at this school.  Their parents have obviously done a great job of teaching and guiding them and for this we are all most appreciative.

I am also thankful for the adults I work with:  the teachers, the teaching assistants, the counsellors, the custodians, bus drivers, maintenance folks, and of course, my trusty secretary, Mrs. Morfini.

We live in an amazing place.  From my office window, I  marvel at the magnificence of the Chief know that I have the best view in the whole district.  But it is not for this reason that other principals should be envious.  I also have the best students, parents and colleagues one could wish for.

Thank you, everyone, Merry Christmas and all the best for the New Year.

Feedback, Please

Think about a time in your adult life when you were learning something new.  (I think about learning to drive a stick shift at the age of 40.)  Chances are, you had a teacher or coach who was helping you in your learning.  How did they help you?  Were they encouraging and supportive?  Did they offer suggestions and feedback  for how to improve?  Were they patient and kind?  And - did they give you a mark or a letter grade during or after your learning experiences, and was that helpful to you?  Chances are, you did not get a score out of ten, you did not get marks taken off (every time you stalled the car), and you were not penalized because it took you longer to learn than your neighbour.  Nor were your attempts averaged.  Imagine taking your driver's test:  you fail miserably the first time, but practice and practice, and pass on your second attempt.  But the instructor says, "Sorry - the average of your two scores was below 50% so you still fail."

Does that make sense?

We are not sure that some of our grading practices in schools make much sense, either.  A colleague recently shared this article with me.

Blog post by Joe Bower, a teacher in Alberta

for the love of learning

Assessment is not a spreadsheet -- it's a conversation.

Grades and the fear of failure

In a study that appeared in the Journal of Educational Psychology (August 2011), Caroline Pulfrey et al., took Swiss students who were in their upper teens and mid twenties from an English as a foreign language class and asked them to do assignments that involved listening and comprehending.

There were 3 experiments.

In the first experiment, one group of students were told that they would receive a grade for their learning while the other group was told they would not receive a grade. In the second experiment, on a single assignment students either received only a grade, only a comment, or a grade and a comment. The third experiment was similar to the second experiment, but this time the students received their respective feedback and completed a second assignment.

Together these three experiments revealed that the anticipation of a grade, as opposed to no feedback or a comment, increases performance avoidance, a fear of failure and a loss of interest. It's important to note that this was true of both high and low achieving students. While conventional wisdom might tell us that grading should inspire learners to do their best, this is not what the research is telling us.

Common sense might also convince us to adopt a "more the merrier" kind of attitude towards providing students with both a comment and a grade, but again, research shows that the presence of a grade (with or without a comment) is responsible for lower levels of motivation, a loss of interest for learning, and a preference for easier tasks.  Unfortunately, the positive benefits of a formative comment is overshadowed by the negative effects of the grade. 

All this supports Ruth Butler's (1988) research from twenty years ago that grades and grades with a comment are responsible for lower levels of intrinsic motivation for learning.

If you are looking to increase a child's anxiety, desire to escape and fear of failure, or decrease their intrinsic motivation and self-efficacy then it makes perfect sense to grade students.

However, if you are interested in helping children learn, you might want to consider leaving the grade out and only providing them with the formative comments they need to improve.

I think it is time to have a conversation about assessment practices and how we might bring them (and ourselves) into the 21st century.

MindUp!

One thing I know for sure: if children feel calm and safe, they will learn more and retain it longer.

I heard about the MindUp program a few years ago when the Vancouver School Board began offering training for teachers.  MindUp comes from the Hahn Foundation, whose founder, Goldie, wanted to find a a way to help children gain "the skills they need to live smarter, healthier, and happier lives."  She worked with smart, Canadian researchers and educators to prepare a program for kindergarten to grade eight.  A few of my friends from Valleycliffe went to be trained and I was most envious. Finally, last July, I got into a training session and came away with a new appreciation for how we can help even the squirreliest of kids calm their minds and prepare to engage.

MindUp is a research-based series of 15 lessons that teach students about their brain and how it works.  They learn that the prefrontal cortex is like a wise leader, that the hippocampus is the keeper of memories, and that the amygdala is the brain's security guard.  When a person is stressed or fearful, the amygdala is alerted (fight,  flight, or freeze).  It blocks higher level thinking and good decision-making.
Students learn that they can calm the amygdala with measured breathing and focused awareness.

In MindUp the students learn about their senses.  They become better at filtering-out sensory information that is distracting and takes away from attention to learning.  We know that professional athletes, musicians, artists and other "focused" people have trained their minds in this way, in order to succeed in their professions.

Optimism and altruism are the topics of the final six lessons in MindUp.  The happy brain is a brain that  is primed for learning.  Research has shown that "the dopamine pleasure surge is highest when students are fully engaged with their learning ...with an overall sense of well-being." 

I've been teaching MindUp in two classes for the past month or so.  The other day, a kindergarten student told me about something responsible he had done, cleaning up a mess that was not his.  I said, "Thank you so much!  That was very thoughtful."  He ran away but five seconds later he was back.  He said, "My prefrontal cortex told me to do it!'  That's great, I thought.  My work is done!

A Snow Day at School

Yesterday it snowed and snowed until about noon.  It was perfect packing snow and the students made the most amazing snowforts.  Some of the snowballs they rolled were as big as them and it took two or three kids to maneuver them.  What impressed me most was how everyone was fully engaged.  Some were working so hard they had to take their coats off.  There was lots of conversation, group problem-solving and distributed leadership.  There were a few conflicts, but they were sorted out with minimal adult support.  It exemplified what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls a "state of flow" - in which work feels like play and time seems to pass unnoticed.  In snowfort building I think, there is just enough ease, just enough challenge, and much room for creativity. I could not help wondering:  what if we could more often create the conditions for flow in the building?  We glimpse it sometimes, and treasure those occasions.  These are the times that I think children will remember, too, when they look back on their years at school.

Education for the 21st Century

We have known for a while that Big Changes in Education are imminent.  Our children are digital natives.  They have never used a rotary phone, a typewriter, watched black and white tv, or known life without computers.  They can multitask in ways that make us dizzy.  They communicate with their peers through texting and instant messaging and Facebook.  Remember when our parents told us to, "Get off the phone!"  In an age in which we can look up any fact we need online, what is the purpose of school? 
This is the question I would like to discuss in this blog.  We, as teachers, want school to be relevant and engaging for learners.  We want to be able to coach students to use technology wisely and ethically and we wonder how this is possible when they are more savvy than we are!  The world is changing so rapidly and how well we are able to adapt will be the test of our resiliency as educators.
So please read and respond.  Join a conversation about how to make school still matter.