On-demand Performance Assessments vs. The Grading Load

One of the things I love about teaching writing with a Workshop approach is the opportunity to support students as they are in the midst of independent projects. This just-in-time teaching allows for differentiation, re-teaching, stretching, and confirming. There are often “ah ha!” moments. Workshop also allows the opportunity for creating a community of learners: peers helping each other, sharing with partners, small groups, or the whole class. Taking a risk in such a supported classroom feels do-able, and students make big growth. Often as I grade final projects, I can see the tracks of my teaching—both whole group and individual—reflected in student work. This is very satisfying as a teacher.

CC0 image from pixabay website

On the other hand, as I grade final projects, I wonder how much of the work is their own. How well can they actually do the things I am asking them to do without all the support they get? Where is the line between scaffolding the learning so students can grow, and expecting them to show their learning independently?

Our new units from the TCRWP staff recommend on-demand writing both before and after a unit is taught. Before-unit writing allows the teacher to see what skills students already have and areas for growth. After-unit writing shows what students have learned from the unit. In-between these on-demand writing pieces is the workshop: self-selected independent projects supported by directed teaching, individual conferring, and peer sharing.

Jay McTighe and Grant Wiggins advocate for performance assessments that show transfer of learning goals. In an Understanding by Design (UbD) white paper (ASCD, 2012), they explain the third of their seven key tenets: “Understanding is revealed when students autonomously make sense of and transfer their learning through authentic performance. Six facets of understanding—the capacity to explain, interpret, apply, shift perspective, empathize, and self-assess—can serve as indicators of understanding”.  The words “autonomously” and “apply” jump out at me. They seem to be agreeing with the TCRWP staff that on-demand performance is the only way to see true understanding and learning.

So what do those ideas mean for me as a teacher? And how does grading intersect with these ideas? Although ideally I’d like to teach and assess without putting a grade on a piece of work, I know that is not the reality of school. Grades are supposed to show how well students are achieving the learning standards. We are obligated to communicate a student’s achievement on report cards, and at our school, that means assigning a grade to their work.

If I take McTighe & Wiggins’ and TCRWP’s suggestions and meld them with my grading obligation, ideally my unit should look like this:

1. Before-unit on-demand writing to pre-assess student learning. This would be used by the teacher to inform upcoming teaching, as well as by students to set learning goals.
2. Three to four weeks of workshop during which students work on self-selected independent projects supported by teaching and feedback.  This would be filled with formative feedback as students practice their new skills within the supported environment.
3. After-unit on-demand writing to assess mastery of learning standards and transfer of understanding. This would be a summative grade that goes on the report card.

I have a few questions about this “ideal” unit assessment scenario. First and foremost, I wonder if students will put their full effort into their weeks-long processed workshop piece knowing that it doesn’t “count” toward their grade. Right now, most students will pour over their writing product with a fine-tooth comb, comparing their work to the rubric descriptors, asking questions of peers and me to fix it up to meet the standard. What’s the point in putting in all that effort if that piece of work doesn’t “count” toward a grade?

Second, what if the post-unit on-demand assessment falls on a bad day for the student? This is one of the big caveats to relying on standardized testing data to define student ability: it’s just a snapshot of one day, and maybe that was a bad day for that student. How can one day’s work define the learning of a whole unit? What if the students know more than the assessment allows them to show?

Third, who has time to score three pieces of writing for every unit? I spend hours evaluating student writing as it is, and I’m not doing all the on-demand pieces. I’ve asked this question in workshops, and get the answer that the on-demands (especially the pre-assessment) shouldn’t take all that long because the point is to just get a “sense” of where the student is, not examine it with a fine-tooth comb. Well, maybe that works in elementary where writing is brief, but give an 8th grader 45 minutes to write an on-demand piece and I get two pages typed—single spaced, size 12 font. Just reading the piece takes at least 5 minutes, and then another 5 minutes or so to score, multiplied times 45 students, and I’m looking at a minimum of 7.5 hours. If I’m assigning a summative grade, as I would for the post-unit on-demand assessment, I would probably double that because I do need to examine the writing with a fine-tooth comb.

Could there be a compromise? What if…

1. Only the student uses the pre-assessment on-demand piece to make goals for the unit? Once the student shares those goals with me, I can use them to guide my conferring, and possibly whole class instruction as well if enough students have the same goals. Once the unit gets rolling, I would focus on the work in front of us and not the on-demand anyway when I am conferring with students. This would take one of the 7.5-grading-hour commitments off my plate.
2. The processed piece and the post-unit on-demand each count 50% of the summative unit grade? This would give enough weight to the processed piece that students would want to work hard on it over the three-four week unit, and also show what students can do independently.  It would honor the long-term work as well as the one-day snapshot. I’m still looking at double the grading time, though. That’s still a problem.

It seems there is a disconnect between the “ideal” and the reality of the day-to-day life of a teacher. I’m not sure how to resolve this. Any thoughts out in the blogosphere? How do you handle on-demand assessments? How do you find time to evaluate multiple pieces of writing for the same set of learning standards?

Thoughts About Mentoring a Student Teacher

I hosted a grad student in my class last week. She is a second-career education student who is finishing her last course before her student teaching experience. She visited my class because she needed 10 hours of Observation and Participation. In her 10 hours with me, she observed four hours of my teaching and she taught two 55-minute lessons. The other four hours consisted of break, lunch, planning time and study hall. She was required to plan the lesson she taught (twice) and write a journal reflection on the 10-hour experience. I was required to sign off on the hours.

There were some outcomes from this experience that surprised me. First, she had never heard of the workshop approach to teaching literacy. Her undergrad major was English Literature and Composition, and she is majoring in secondary education, so I assumed she had taken a literacy education course along the way. I know there are many many ways to teach literacy, and workshop is not the usual method in secondary schools, but I would have thought she had at least heard about it. I gave her an everything-you-need-to-know-about-workshop-in-1-minute-or-less lesson so she could understand what she was observing.

Next, she didn't take notes during, or have any questions after, the observation. I wondered what she had gotten out of the lesson. Through our follow-up discussion, she seemed to be impressed with how well the students behaved and how nice the room was and how each student had their own computer to use. These were not the observations of someone about to take over a classroom, clued into the subtleties of classroom management, instructional technique, and creating classroom climate. Rather, they seemed to be those of someone in culture shock.

On the day that she taught, using my lesson objectives and a modified workshop structure, her passion for teaching came through. Like any substitute teacher, she was faced with a room full of students who's names she didn't know, who's personalities and learning levels she didn't know, and plopped into the middle of a unit she didn't know. However, I suggested the kids make simple name cards when they came in, and she used their names during the lesson to connect with the students. She was personable, and seemed to enjoy the content and the students.

We had a debrief between the first and the second lesson. We talked through what went well and where the rough spots were. I helped her consider things such as how to get students' attention back after releasing them to an activity, prioritizing lesson parts when things are dragging on too long, questioning techniques when kids are reluctant to share, and immediate application of learning. The second lesson went better.

When we debriefed the second lesson, she was amazed at how something as simple as an attention cue can make transitions go quickly and smoothly. She said that she was in her last week of her behavior management class, and never had they talked about cues. They talked about making rules and consequences. I shared with her other things I do that contribute to classroom management: seating choices, lesson variety with active engagement, walking around while kids are working and holding kids accountable.

This young woman is eager to get into the classroom and make a difference in children's lives. It was refreshing to see that passion. Sometimes I forget that I was the same way starting out. I was just as nervous and just as ill-prepared to step into a room full of kids. I wonder if teacher prep courses could up their game, however. The accountability piece for this particular Observation and Participation requirement seemed really weak. I've read articles advocating for a medical-student-like preparation course for teachers: classwork followed by internship followed by residency followed by full certification. It is the on-the-ground experience while being mentored by an expert that creates competent practitioners.

I don't think I want to be her mentor teacher for her student teaching experience next year. Not because I think she is hopeless, but because I already have a lot on my plate. I will recommend her to another teacher who would be willing to take on that responsibility. And I wish her well on her journey into the joys of teaching.