At the end of each year, I pack away my kids’ school work into boxes. It takes me hours to sift through, mainly because there’s so much that catches my eye and I can’t help but read it. I’m always surprised, and often astounded, by what they’ve studied and learnt because they don’t tell me much and rarely show it to me, especially now they’ve reached high school.
For example, I was unaware they’d learnt about the physics of flight and experimented with gravity, or that they’d studied DNA and chromosomes. I knew they’d read ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time’, but I didn’t know they’d studied Asperger’s Syndrome as they went. I didn’t know they’d watched ‘Bowling for Columbine’ and discussed American gun laws. I didn’t know they’d learnt about Martin Luther King and Aboriginal Land Rights either.
Each year it happens—I’m blown away by what they’ve studied and learnt, because at the end of each year, all I get are a few lines in a report and a mark.
That’s what all their hard work gets reduced to—a mark—and it doesn’t seem to represent what I hold in my hands and pack away in the boxes.
Each year, I feel sorry for them as I pack it all away—that they’ve been so busy and worked so hard, and all I’ve been concerned about is the mark written next to their name.
Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if teachers didn’t assign marks—what if they gave feedback only. I wonder what changes that might bring:
If some kids might keep going with subjects they enjoy because they’re not told they aren’t good at them, and if they might become better at those subjects without the stress of worrying about a mark.
If it might encourage more experimentation and creativity.
If kids might work together more collaboratively because they’re not in competition with each other.
I especially wonder if their stress levels might be lower if they’re not aiming for that elusive ‘A’, or if they’re not comparing their mark with that of their friend.
And I wonder if teachers might enjoy their jobs more if they just had to read their students’ work and give helpful comments. I wonder if they might encourage more creative exploration if they didn’t have to worry about marking and ranking kids according to a standardised rubric.
We protect kids from things like graphic sex and violence until they’re old enough to cope, yet we don’t seem to mind putting them under stress to achieve well at school. Year after year after year. And it seems to be getting worse.
It’s something I worry about, the stress we put our kids under, and not just academically but in almost every area of their overly scheduled lives.
I’m not wise or knowledgable enough in this area to know if we’re doing it the best way we could. I just wrote these thoughts as they came, that’s all.
What do you think?
I’ve just been part of an online session about gender dysphoria and trans, Louise and it strikes me now reading your post once again, as the speaker at this online workshop said, ‘society is very unforgiving’.
We are cruel to one another. We are cruel to our children. We expect vast amounts from them as was expected of us, and it’s not often, as you write here, that we stop and wonder: Is this emphasis on assessment the best way to go? Likewise the pressure to be one thing or another, a boy or a girl.
We put pressure on people to conform and anyone who fails to conform – academically, or in terms of fixed views on gender, and in so many other ways – to society’s narrow and polarised views, is cast aside.
The world would indeed be very different if we nurtured creativity as a process of exploration and fun, rather than as an end product of achievement.
I’d love to see more emphasis on creativity in education, too—more space and freedom to explore. The system thinks it encourages it, but I’m not sure it does.
I’m also lamenting how much emphasis I used to place on my kids’ marks, too. I didn’t realise how important it was to me, and I wish I’d realised sooner. Not that my kids have been scarred, so they tell me. These days, I just try to appreciate all their beautiful hard work, and the fact they do a lot more in their day than I know about.
When I was still teaching, it was my job to proof-read reports, and I would send them back for improvement if they didn’t begin with a sentence or two about what the teacher liked about the child (e.g. X has a great sense of humour and often keeps the class entertained with funny anecdotes. Y has a wonderful talent for drawing and her pictures show originality and style. Z has great leadership potential: she is often the one who comes up with original initiatives, and effectively uses the art of persuasion to encourage others to share her enthusiasm.)
Because the first thing you read should make you feel confident that the teacher knows your kid as an individual and likes them.
There was a really interesting program about education on The Drum last night, focussing on the pressure to perform to a specified outcome. IMO it all comes back to parents not trusting teachers as professionals, which has made politicians respond to that with standardised testing and all its associated ills. Parents have got what they demanded and it is their kids who are copping the results.
I’m not having a go at teachers—they do a great job. In fact, when I read my kids’ work when it comes home at the end of the year, I see how hard the teachers are working, too—school reports don’t do their hard work justice either.
I’m not knowledgable enough on the issues of standardised testing, etc., to speak, so I won’t. I just see a whole lot of stress and worry and competitiveness out there that isn’t good for parent, child, or teacher.
I suppose the grading keeps everyone accountable but I definitely see your point. I think a bit of stress and competition is probably a good thing when that’s what they’ll be facing in adulthood but I remember my second son putting way too much pressure on himself in his senior years. He made himself sick.
I don’t know whether the system we have is the best solution or not—many people seem quite happy with it as it is. I just know that every time I see what my kids are learning at school, my respect for their teachers shoots through the roof, too. You don’t really get a sense of it in a report.
Louise Ideally that should be the case. skills that children will need in the future should be the emphasis in school: critical thinking, creativity (thinking outside the box) exploring different ways of problem solving, working effectively on individual projects as well as group. I could go on and on. Rubrics were originally used so students would know the criteria teachers used for grading — a great idea it clarified for both teacher and student what the critical skills were. But it took time to create them. Then commercial companies started to include them in teacher editions of textbooks. So they became teacher rubrics not student centered.
In the climate of education in the US
Accountability is the holy grail. So that teachers are forced to teach to the standardized tests that show student progress. This came about because students were graduating high school without basic skills. But it has gone too far so that children are nearly traumatized by the time of test day stressed so they don’t perform in a way that truly shows what they have learned. Children who have alternative learning styles are penalized in these tests.
So much needs to be addressed in education: teacher education, weeding out poor teachers, using proven instructional strategies, and analyzing and implementing what is important for students to learn in the 21st century.
Sorry to take so long. I’m a retired teacher of children with special needs.
That makes a lot of sense, Penny, and don’t worry for writing at such length—it’s been great to read. I see the good things about the system, and I see its failings, too. I know there’s no ideal, and certainly what suits some kids, doesn’t suit all. I’m a realist—these were just my musings for an ideal!
And I have no doubt you were a wonderful teacher! x
High school is a pressure cooker. Apart from the academic stresses, among the most damaging can be the quest to fit in. Especially when you are a unique individual! Friendships can be enriching and lifelong, but there are always those who make your child’s existence miserable. It’s heartbreaking. That is the pressure, I find, that undermines confidence to perform academically. Their poor hormone-addled brains are so stuffed full of, well, stuff, that it’s little wonder those things teachers measure at school reveal telltale signs of fatigue. But, adulthood has its challenges too, and they keep coming, one after the other. So, we need to show our little people ways to cope when things don’t go to plan. High school is the ultimate training ground for emotional resilience, and there is more than one way to skin a slippery cat! And it doesn’t all start and end with a university-recognised ATAR score. Numbers….overrated in my book.
Yes, negotiating the high school yard and all its politics can be fraught and hurtful and really knock a kid’s confidence. And the thing is, the bullies are acting the way they do because of their own fragile self-confidence.
I actually don’t believe in resilience training. Through no fault of their own, some kids aren’t as ‘resilient’ as others and can end up in significant emotional pain. Some of those kids can be driven to taking drastic measures to end their pain. We need to help those kids, not tell them to be more resilient.
Resilience is a wish-list item for us all. We can’t really tell someone how to be so, but we must support people as they find their own way through trial and error to that position of personal strength. Often it comes after many years, with positive role models and unconditional support. Schools are not that great at providing the optimum supports needed for the many and varied personalities and the unique challenges they face. My heart goes out to those who don’t fit in at school, or at home. There seems to be a sore lack of compassion for others in people’s hearts. Maybe it’s because people are hard on themselves first and foremost. Thanks for providing the impetus for some profound, deep, reflective thinking Louise.
Thank you for your comments, M—they give me food for thought, too. I love philosophical discussions—I totally get high on them!
Compassion for others definitely starts with compassion for yourself. xx