Even as I said the words, I felt my entire self cringe. The look on the student’s face mirrored my own deflation and I immediately wanted to recant my words. But I didn’t. This was for a grade. All the students had to do it. If I provided help, how would this task demonstrate his abilities? If he didn’t do it on his own what would I put down for his grade?
It’s been three days and the moment still haunts me. I feel the judgment of a thousand online educators, bloggers and professionals in the field. I hear the voices in my head telling me what a horrible teacher I was in that moment and how could I not know better? But the truth is, I don’t know what to do in that situation. We have certain assignments and assessments we have agreed on as a grade level to “take for a grade”. This was one of them. While every ounce of my being tells me this was obviously not the way to help this student and that I know I did far more damage by the exchange than the grade could ever be worth, it isn’t a singular incident. How many times when my students are taking a test do I see a student struggle and I yet offer no assistance? How many times have I clearly seen a student completely lost during instruction but I just keep plowing through the material as if getting to the end of the teacher’s edition by the end of the year is what really matters?
I admit these things out loud because I know I am far from the only one doing them, or feeling shame about them.
Next week I am eagerly participating in a book study on, How to Grade for Learning by Ken O’Connor. For once, a professional development offering feels like perfect timing for me. It is exactly the help I need at exactly the time I am most open and receptible to it. As my district prepares to make the switch to standards-based grading, this book study is our introduction to the ideas and practices that will help us use grading in a way that facilitates learning – the exact thing my grading of that particular assignment did not.
The student turned in his paper and had actually figured out the problem on his own. When I returned his paper to him later, I told him that I had reacted poorly and that I wish I had not said I could not help him. I used the moment to show him that I am still a learner myself and that mistakes are something we all do, and that we must all own those errors and try our best to improve upon them. I asked if he had any further questions about the problem and he explained where he had gotten stuck and how he had resolved the issue. I assured him that I would eagerly help the next time he asked and that I hoped he wouldn’t take my poor response this time as an indication that he shouldn’t ask for help again.
And while he assured me he understood and promised he would ask, I know that I cannot erase my words from his mind or change the way it made him feel in that moment. I know that I will never forget the sting I saw on his face. It will serve as a precious reminder of what not to do. With Mr. O’Connor’s book as an introduction and guide, I look forward to finding ways to improve my grading practices so that these incidents never happen again. For both of our sakes.
Teaching at 3am 