So, have you read “Classroom Chef” yet? If not, no problem. It’s cool. I read it for you. (But it really only helps you if you read it yourself. Go read it. You won’t regret it.)
She said, “hey let me know how it went”. Cool, right? (It went really well, by the way. It’s awesome when kids recognize they know some things they didn’t think they knew.)
So here’s a thing that happened the other day. A Valentine’s Day WODB…
So, it helped somebody. Yay! Not because I’m so great, but the power of a PLN and a handful of RTs put that little piece of Love Day happiness in front of a teacher who thought it might be a conversation starter for her kids.
Not everybody can be this guy. But the spirit of sharing is universal.
We opted for a performance assessment, students (working in pairs) creating their own Row Games-style review rather than taking a “traditional” quiz. Based on their feedback the days leading up to what would have been a quiz day, I knew we were looking at a serious crash-and-burn scenario.
And I was right – the quiz would have been a disaster. How do I know?
Image via UPN.com.
Because the project revealed some holes in their understanding. Holes you could drive a Mack truck thru. “What do you mean ‘factor’ that? I don’t know how to do that!”
“You said it, Scoob!” Image via quickmeme.com.
So we spent three days in class on the project. It was messy, as all good learning is. There was stress from my more traditional minded-students. There was resistance to partner work.
“Control Freak”
But: I got to spend time with every single student in all my classes, at least just for a few moments, answering questions, giving encouragement, suggesting a way forward when they were stuck. Invaluable formative assessment. There was good-natured teacher humor, and music. Always a plus. Slowly, light dawns. I think they understand operations with rational expressions better than they did last week. We’ve walked back off the ledge together. So that’s a win.
But I have lots of questions. More questions than answers, really. Grading philosophy and special ed and “support for everyone” and what does an “A” mean and Track 2 and Track 3 and everything.
When I started doing this my district was really into performance-based grades for math: tests = 70% of grade. Teachers could do whatever they wanted with the other 30%: projects, homework, participation, a combo of any of the above. But long story short, a student’s grade is made up of what he proves he knows and can do.
Then (after moving to another urban district) I started teaching kids who hate school and hate math and I learned that sometimes it’s worth making sure students get credit for their efforts in practice, especially if that meant I kept them interested and trying for a whole semester. I know, SBG is awesome, it just never worked for my kids. They responded to “points for paper”, even when I preached how much I valued what they had going on from the neck up. Don’t @ me.
Fast-forward to now, my first year teaching Track 3 Algebra II in a high-performing district. My 2nd quarter breakdown was more like 40% quizzes/30% classwork/30% homework. So a student could do all my “busy work” get a 0 on every quiz and pass with a D-. Is that how this “grading” thing is supposed to work?
I can tell my grading system is broken. My philosophy is solid, but when a student can pull a “B” in my class for first semester, then look at me in the eye and tell me she can’t factor a quadratic trinomial, I know I’m Doing It Wrong.
Here’s the thing: I want a letter to represent what they know. I think they want a letter to represent who they are.
Math is Love, baby. Image via talljerome.com/NOLA/110807_endofsummer.html
So I’ve got some thinking to do. Bounced the question off my Lunch Bunch at school today. And composed the perfunctory tweet for help to my PLN:
OK, #MTBoS: what's your ideal ratio of test points/HW points? Put another way: your goal for assessments as a % of a S's overall grade = x?
The Dreaded Algebra II. For many of the high-achieving students at my school, it’s a forgettable stepping stone on the path to AP Calc and beyond. For my students, it’s the last required math course before graduation, and a figurative peek into the very bowels of Hell.
What type of sin gets one scheduled into an Algebra II course for eternity?
We’ve finished up the first semester, which is really just a re-hash of Algebra I. Now the fun begins. Brand new material. Brand new material that my students see as having no connection to their actual lives whatsoever. Also, the math is hard. Especially if your foundational algebra skills are weak.
But hey, that’s why they pay me the big bucks, right? Image via imgur.com.
So, we’re struggling with motivation these days. Not quite open revolt, but we’re on the edge of a bad place.
I’m not sure she’s kidding, you guys.
We just finished up operations with rational expressions, and their level of understanding is sketchy at best.
I’m not sure a traditional quiz is what they need right now. Check that. I’m positive a traditional quiz is not what they need right now.
So, some type of performance assessment is more like it. In class, in groups, display understanding, take your time. So: Old standby? Or a new thing?
Or both….
Kate Nowak is one of my go-tos for review activities that are student-centered and self-checking. One of her go-tos back in the day was RowGames. The basics, from the source:
“Make a worksheet of problems organized in two columns. Column A and column B. The tricky part is the pair of problems in each row has to have the same answer. Obviously some topics are more suited to this than others. (Solving linear systems, easy. SOHCAHTOA, easy. Graphing inequalities, hard.)
Pair up the kids. Decide who is A and who is B. Tell the kids to only do the problems in their column. When done, compare answers to each question number with their partner. And if they don’t get the same answer, work together to find the error. That last step is where the magic happens. I know how well I taught the topic by how busy I am while they are row gaming it up. (Sipping coffee: go, me. Running around like lettuce with its head cut off: self-recrimination time.)”
So, my twist: make it DIY. We tried this with Kahoot! this year, students creating their own questions and distractors, I gather them up, make the Kahoot! quiz, kids play, angel choirs sing, all is well.
Here’s the deal: My students need a day to catch their breath from the forced march of rational expressions. I’ll give it to them. They’re gonna make their own Row Games activity. I took one of the Row Games from a google folder Nowak graciously shared. The kids will work through that exercise on Monday. So now they know what a Row Game looks like. Tuesday I introduce the project, give them the design requirements, list of deliverables, and the rubric, and turn them loose. It’ll go in the gradebook as a quiz grade. Even better: The plan is to take the finished products and use them as a review day activity somewhere down the line. Each class will get an activity designed by students in a different class.
How’s it going to work out? I’ll let you know. But I’m betting the results (in terms of students’ understanding, and grades) will be better than on some barf-tastic quiz.
Tweaking For No Reason 