Three Big Questions to Ask about Grading

Grading

They’re questions that grew out of theology professor Barbara Blodgett’s move to a new grading system. They’re questions that poke at the premises beneath grading and they’re relevant regardless of the grading system used. They’re not questions with easy answers but rather vexing queries with many possible answers. That makes them questions worth asking and discussing, especially given how important grades continue to be to students, their parents, employers, and almost everybody else in this culture.

Should I grade at all and if so, toward what end?

It’s a bit of an existential question because, for practical purposes, grades cannot be abandoned, and Blodgett is not blind to reality. She says grades motivate learning, and they communicate some level of quality to those outside our institutions, and it’s this later function that concerns her. To receive a grade, students must be measured against some standard of perfection. They may be graded against one another or against the 100 percent or A+ standard.

When grading has its roots in competition, Blodgett worries that the quality of the person is being judged more than the quality of the work. If a student earns a D, that signifies a lack of knowledge and/or skills—that’s all it means. Blodgett writes, “Since teachers are often unconsciously biased toward some students rather than others, the more we can do to separate our assessment of excellence from our assessment of learners themselves, the more we strive for justice in our teaching. To declare that any learner can potentially excel is to declare that our classrooms are spaces of equal access to learning” (p. 322).

The comingling of the person and the performance is related to the use of standards as well: “In order to place students on a scale somewhat below that mark, teachers must develop some mental idea of perfection” (p. 321). Here Blodgett worries that those views of perfection are not objective. In her context, it’s a professor’s model of perfection being more aligned with the “academically inclined, Ph.D. bound” student than the “praxis-oriented future minister” (p. 32).

Exactly what am I grading when I grade?

Grades do not measure intelligence. Referencing the work of another, Blodgett considers five possible areas of achievement that can be assessed:  knowledge, higher-order thinking, products, skills, and dispositions. Knowledge is the easiest to assess, which is why it’s what’s most often graded. The others are much harder. Blodgett believes we need to back away from some knowledge assessment simply because it’s readily accessible now. There’s no need for students to memorize lists when most lists are no more than a click away.

What makes the question important is what Blodgett calls one of the discoveries that came from having considered what she should be grading: “It matters what gets grades and what gets left ungraded because the choices themselves form an implicit curriculum within the course.” Students are smart when it comes to figuring out what really matters in the course. All the comments in the world about the importance of criteria thinking account for nothing if none of the exam questions challenge thinking.

Is there any way to lessen the sting of failure?

No grading system eliminates the possibility of failure, but different grading systems do treat failure in different ways. If points accumulate in the course, with unit tests of equal weight, then failing grades count as much as passing grades. That makes failure significant. If the grades are earned developmentally, then early failures count for less.

Blodgett makes an interesting case against partial credit, a practice used by many faculty to soften the blow of a low grade: “Partial credit does not communicate competence; it communicates that students have fallen short and landed below the objectives. It says they are not yet competent but are allowed to stay there” (p. 325). Blodgett has become convinced that it’s better to let students keep trying until they make it.

The questions and Blodgett’s answers are provocative. They show how a hard look at a regular practice can reveal what may not be easily seen or has been taken for granted. Blodgett writes, “Students are both already learners and not yet learned. Grades are but the flawed and limited tools we have to mark where they are on the journey” (p. 325).

Reference:

Blodgett, B.J. (2017). Grading matters in theological education. Teaching Theology and Religion, 20(4), 314–326.

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They're questions that grew out of theology professor Barbara Blodgett's move to a new grading system. They're questions that poke at the premises beneath grading and they're relevant regardless of the grading system used. They're not questions with easy answers but rather vexing queries with many possible answers. That makes them questions worth asking and discussing, especially given how important grades continue to be to students, their parents, employers, and almost everybody else in this culture. Should I grade at all and if so, toward what end? It's a bit of an existential question because, for practical purposes, grades cannot be abandoned, and Blodgett is not blind to reality. She says grades motivate learning, and they communicate some level of quality to those outside our institutions, and it's this later function that concerns her. To receive a grade, students must be measured against some standard of perfection. They may be graded against one another or against the 100 percent or A+ standard. When grading has its roots in competition, Blodgett worries that the quality of the person is being judged more than the quality of the work. If a student earns a D, that signifies a lack of knowledge and/or skills—that's all it means. Blodgett writes, “Since teachers are often unconsciously biased toward some students rather than others, the more we can do to separate our assessment of excellence from our assessment of learners themselves, the more we strive for justice in our teaching. To declare that any learner can potentially excel is to declare that our classrooms are spaces of equal access to learning” (p. 322). The comingling of the person and the performance is related to the use of standards as well: “In order to place students on a scale somewhat below that mark, teachers must develop some mental idea of perfection” (p. 321). Here Blodgett worries that those views of perfection are not objective. In her context, it's a professor's model of perfection being more aligned with the “academically inclined, Ph.D. bound” student than the “praxis-oriented future minister” (p. 32). Exactly what am I grading when I grade? Grades do not measure intelligence. Referencing the work of another, Blodgett considers five possible areas of achievement that can be assessed:  knowledge, higher-order thinking, products, skills, and dispositions. Knowledge is the easiest to assess, which is why it's what's most often graded. The others are much harder. Blodgett believes we need to back away from some knowledge assessment simply because it's readily accessible now. There's no need for students to memorize lists when most lists are no more than a click away. What makes the question important is what Blodgett calls one of the discoveries that came from having considered what she should be grading: “It matters what gets grades and what gets left ungraded because the choices themselves form an implicit curriculum within the course.” Students are smart when it comes to figuring out what really matters in the course. All the comments in the world about the importance of criteria thinking account for nothing if none of the exam questions challenge thinking. Is there any way to lessen the sting of failure? No grading system eliminates the possibility of failure, but different grading systems do treat failure in different ways. If points accumulate in the course, with unit tests of equal weight, then failing grades count as much as passing grades. That makes failure significant. If the grades are earned developmentally, then early failures count for less. Blodgett makes an interesting case against partial credit, a practice used by many faculty to soften the blow of a low grade: “Partial credit does not communicate competence; it communicates that students have fallen short and landed below the objectives. It says they are not yet competent but are allowed to stay there” (p. 325). Blodgett has become convinced that it's better to let students keep trying until they make it. The questions and Blodgett's answers are provocative. They show how a hard look at a regular practice can reveal what may not be easily seen or has been taken for granted. Blodgett writes, “Students are both already learners and not yet learned. Grades are but the flawed and limited tools we have to mark where they are on the journey” (p. 325). Reference: Blodgett, B.J. (2017). Grading matters in theological education. Teaching Theology and Religion, 20(4), 314–326.