I have been enjoying the great discussions in the OLTD Google+ community around different aspects of grading started by Carrie Cann and Sandra Dailey, but it is a new post from Maria Soto about “happiness” in school as being connected to the growth mindset, that has moved me to yet add another layer to my “Grading Conundrum.” A conundrum more personally situated as I ponder how happiness is something diametrically opposed to school for my son but from what I know, for many more than he.
For my youngest son, the unhappiness in school has nothing to do with his fabulous teacher whom he truly loves and adores. Nor is it about his classmates who all seem to sincerely enjoy each others' company (well for the most part). His unhappiness is something that I see as being connected to how he has interpreted the letter grades and numerical values that have been assigned to his head. He takes his grades to heart despite my primary focus on effort (aka work habits) and his heart seems heavier and heavier, with each passing year.
The root of his gloom from what I can tell, is not that he is assessed, but in the manner in which he is expected to demonstrate his learning for assessment. This is because my son has a text-based processing disorder accompanied by severe written output challenges (like 1st percentile challenging). He tends to soak up anything that is presented visually and orally but cannot physically write well nor spell worth a darn so the usual suggested fix of “just get him to use a computer” doesn’t work. (Remember that to type requires a person to “see” the word in their minds eye and this does not happen for him). He can talk about a variety of topics, is interested in many aspects of science, analyzes plot and character development in movies for fun and is intrigued by military political maneuvers. He has a ridiculously expansive vocabulary often commented so by his peers. He is told that he is “smart” by his classmates (and teachers) but he doesn’t really believe them.
And this is the part that as a mother and a teacher, is difficult to watch: he dislikes school more one year to the next and has had increasing anxiety about performance. So much so that in the summer between grade 6 and 7, he ended up in tears worrying about how he was going to manage in high school (another 15 months away) not being able to spell. He is extremely conscious of his performance and feels furiously frustrated that his marks don’t match up with what he believes he knows. He totally freezes in written test situations (especially when they are timed) and beats himself up for not being like his friends who are able to write quickly and spell flawlessly. The school and his teachers try to provide a scribe whenever possible, but that’s a limited support given all the cuts. Despite the efforts to support his impairment, he absolutely despises “needing” the assistance no matter how many ways I spin the scenario for him. I am attempting to get him to use voice-to-text software but this is quite a bit more difficult than first imagined. Even the most experienced writers have difficulty when asked to “talk” to create a paragraph - it’s a completely different style and not common to how we typically engage in conversation.
What many of us don’t see is how of our choice as teachers to favour text-based assessment emotionally impacts kids like my son. Many students with obstacles to learning interpret their inadequacies harshly as it is. As they deal with their peers bugging them gently or otherwise (I’ve never met anyone who knows such big words as you, not even my parents… how come it is that you can’t even spell “girl” right) these kids fight with their own feelings and then try shield the impact of the unspoken messages being directed their way: the sighs they receive from teachers and support staff when they ask for more time, the eye rolling when they ask how to spell an easy word and the harsh tone of voice quipped when they hand in a test unfinished not because they don’t know the material but mostly out of frustration. And then there are the teachers whose spewed comments bleed innuendo that kids who go to Learning Assistance get unfair advantages.
I have come to see that is possible that how I act while leading learning can be overridden by how I choose to assess learning. All this is much to tangle with but I think that most of the damaging internal turmoil created in students could be avoided if we do three things: 1) examine our reason for assessment and insure that it is aligned with specific outcomes that are truly important 2) make sure that there are other ways to demonstrate learning aside from methods requiring text-based communication and 3) make as much room as possible for formative assessment practices, placing the emphasis on the process required toward attaining the quality of product.
I have also come to see that properly using digital devices are likely key in this process for promoting a growth mindset in students. Better yet - helping each other in learning how to do so will likely achieve more happiness at school for all those in our care.
For my youngest son, the unhappiness in school has nothing to do with his fabulous teacher whom he truly loves and adores. Nor is it about his classmates who all seem to sincerely enjoy each others' company (well for the most part). His unhappiness is something that I see as being connected to how he has interpreted the letter grades and numerical values that have been assigned to his head. He takes his grades to heart despite my primary focus on effort (aka work habits) and his heart seems heavier and heavier, with each passing year.
The root of his gloom from what I can tell, is not that he is assessed, but in the manner in which he is expected to demonstrate his learning for assessment. This is because my son has a text-based processing disorder accompanied by severe written output challenges (like 1st percentile challenging). He tends to soak up anything that is presented visually and orally but cannot physically write well nor spell worth a darn so the usual suggested fix of “just get him to use a computer” doesn’t work. (Remember that to type requires a person to “see” the word in their minds eye and this does not happen for him). He can talk about a variety of topics, is interested in many aspects of science, analyzes plot and character development in movies for fun and is intrigued by military political maneuvers. He has a ridiculously expansive vocabulary often commented so by his peers. He is told that he is “smart” by his classmates (and teachers) but he doesn’t really believe them.
And this is the part that as a mother and a teacher, is difficult to watch: he dislikes school more one year to the next and has had increasing anxiety about performance. So much so that in the summer between grade 6 and 7, he ended up in tears worrying about how he was going to manage in high school (another 15 months away) not being able to spell. He is extremely conscious of his performance and feels furiously frustrated that his marks don’t match up with what he believes he knows. He totally freezes in written test situations (especially when they are timed) and beats himself up for not being like his friends who are able to write quickly and spell flawlessly. The school and his teachers try to provide a scribe whenever possible, but that’s a limited support given all the cuts. Despite the efforts to support his impairment, he absolutely despises “needing” the assistance no matter how many ways I spin the scenario for him. I am attempting to get him to use voice-to-text software but this is quite a bit more difficult than first imagined. Even the most experienced writers have difficulty when asked to “talk” to create a paragraph - it’s a completely different style and not common to how we typically engage in conversation.
What many of us don’t see is how of our choice as teachers to favour text-based assessment emotionally impacts kids like my son. Many students with obstacles to learning interpret their inadequacies harshly as it is. As they deal with their peers bugging them gently or otherwise (I’ve never met anyone who knows such big words as you, not even my parents… how come it is that you can’t even spell “girl” right) these kids fight with their own feelings and then try shield the impact of the unspoken messages being directed their way: the sighs they receive from teachers and support staff when they ask for more time, the eye rolling when they ask how to spell an easy word and the harsh tone of voice quipped when they hand in a test unfinished not because they don’t know the material but mostly out of frustration. And then there are the teachers whose spewed comments bleed innuendo that kids who go to Learning Assistance get unfair advantages.
I have come to see that is possible that how I act while leading learning can be overridden by how I choose to assess learning. All this is much to tangle with but I think that most of the damaging internal turmoil created in students could be avoided if we do three things: 1) examine our reason for assessment and insure that it is aligned with specific outcomes that are truly important 2) make sure that there are other ways to demonstrate learning aside from methods requiring text-based communication and 3) make as much room as possible for formative assessment practices, placing the emphasis on the process required toward attaining the quality of product.
I have also come to see that properly using digital devices are likely key in this process for promoting a growth mindset in students. Better yet - helping each other in learning how to do so will likely achieve more happiness at school for all those in our care.