When I was a superstar assistant professor at Millsaps and I was flying high on a great publication record and pretty stellar student reviews I submitted my mid-tenure portfolio with a dash of “YOU’RE WELCOME.” I was on all the committees, doing all the things, and I had the naivete and overconfidence that made me completely blind to any potential future possibility that didn’t include professorial greatness for eternity. (How could I have known in just a few years Millsaps woud have to cut its education department and things would so radically change?)
Then my mid tenure review committee, a hand-picked crew of supportive, awesome, smart, more seasoned colleagues scheduled my meeting. AND THEY DIDN’T JUST SWOON OVER MY GREATNESS! HOW DARE THEY?! In fact, they dinged me on one single item that tails pinned me right into an EDUCATION101 lecture. . . . wanna know what that item was?
(Please don’t guess. You might hurt my feelings. But yeah, I agree, there are a lot of flaws to choose from.)
My greatest sin, the only potential roadblock toward an impeccable record and near-certain tenure was (drumroll please) . . .
MY COURSE GRADE AVERAGES WERE ABOVE THE NORM.
Yep.
My students were doing too well. So that must mean I was too easy. Or not grading hard enough. Or not rigorous.
Let me pause here to say I was teaching a host of education courses. Now listen, I love the field of education more than most, but when you put Classroom Management and Early Literacy up alongside Biology or Statistics . . . well, they are different beasts. I fundamentally believe that . .. .
I also fundamentally believe that grades are a game we play. Full disclosure, I once said that phrase to an enraged parent whose child was getting an A- in my class when I was 21 and didn’t know any better. Not recommended. There was shouting that ensued. But I’ve always felt a bit philosophical about the whole thing.
I’m in Matt’s PLC in which we are reading Joshya Eyler’s Failing Our Future: How Grades Harm Students, and What We Can Do About It. It’s not a perfect book in many ways, but it’s been an useful springboard for honest conversations with brilliant colleagues who are wrestling with all the same things I am, such as . . .
- Are grades themselves doing more harm than good, or are they practical levers that motivate all of us?
- What do I care more about: the ability of a kid to get something in by the deadline or the actual content skills they demonstrate by the end of the semester?
- Are daily reading checks punitive or manipulative that counter the intrinsic motivation I want kids to have to do the reading, or do they simply utilize the truth of human psychology, which is that we all are busy and will only do the thing if we know we will be held accountable?
I’m sorry to say that I have no idea where I’ve landed on any of these questions. But I’m going to keep asking them and talking about them with our community. I see the emotional toll that grades take on my own perfectionist eldest, but I also think to myself “good, she’s experiencing something tough and she’s learning to be resilient through it.” I hate that our world is the way it is in 100 ways. So do we teach our children to play the game well, or do we create a world we think is better in the ways that we can control?
Years ago, after that frustrating mid-tenure review chat (which I did, of course, pass with flying colors), I decided to tell the story in abbreviated form to my students. I recall that Mary Parker, a personality-filled blonde music ed major who is now a counselor in the Pearl school district, actually guffawed.
“Dr. Rust! Sure, I’m getting an A in your classes, but this is by FAR the most rigorous course I’ve taken at Millsaps. We are asked to do SO MUCH in terms of planning lessons and then actually doing them with students, and then reflecting on them. Are you saying you are getting penalized because you actually support us through the process?”
I have no idea if Mary was flattering me in the same way that I am ambivalent about the questions I named above. But her words freed me in a way to keep doing what I knew to do in preparing future teachers. In that moment I let go of the expectations of the tenure committee to try to “lower my grade averages.” I decided to do what I felt was best for the growth of these future teachers under my care.
Is there any expectation you need to let go of for the betterment of your students or your craft? Consider this your permission to do so.