Why I Gave Up Grading
It was the 10-year itch that led me to go gradeless.
After teaching middle school for eight years and high school English two, I started to feel my curriculum was meaningless. “Why do kids have to read Beowulf and learn weekly vocabulary?” Yes, I love Beowulf. It’s such a fun story with so many different elements to dive into. And yes, I love learning new words that allow me to communicate in new and precise ways. But just because I loved these things didn’t mean it was meaningful to my learners. Nor did it mean that it will help them later on in life.
I felt stuck. I felt that, if this feeling were to continue, I would have to leave teaching to find something more meaningful to me.
I went into the teaching profession bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I saw myself following in the footsteps of Mr. Keating or Mr. Holland, transforming the lives of my learners and helping them to find purpose and meaning in school. In reality, I wasn’t even engaged. A pedagogy of direct instruction, worksheets, tests, and five-paragraph essays fell short in inspiring my learners to achieve greatness in the world beyond my classroom. What we were doing didn’t spark anyone’s passion or imagination.
Meanwhile, our learners were rocking the state assessment. We won awards for raising test scores year after year. Our school looked good on paper, but what happens to my learners after the test? What happens to them after they graduate? What value does it add to their lives 20 years after they have left my classroom?
What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul?
I knew I had to make a change or I would have to leave teaching. I shared my concerns with my principal. He said, “I hope you can figure this out. I would hate to lose you. Let me know how I can support you.” I shared my concerns with my department. Their response was, “Let’s figure this out together” and we started asking the hard questions.
My principal allotted us some professional development time to collaborate. We started by asking, “What is the purpose of the English curriculum at Woodland High?” We struggled with this question for some time. We looked at what we were doing. We didn’t necessarily want to uproot everything we did. Rather, we wanted to infuse what we were doing with meaning and purpose.
Our first answer to the question, “What is the purpose of our curriculum?” was “To help our learners become more proficient readers, writers, and critical thinkers.” This helped us by centering the curriculum on some clear goals. We designed some projects that allowed learners to demonstrate their growth as readers, writers, and thinkers, called “Benchmark Assessments.” These projects were a culmination of everything we taught throughout the year, and learners had multiple attempts to demonstrate their ability in them. We created holistic rubrics for writing and presenting. Students had to score at a passing level at least one time throughout the semester to pass the class. These rubrics were designed on a four-point scale that assessed fluency, grammar, analysis, and ability to cite sources. The presentation rubric assessed learners on voice and poise. We challenged learners on all of these criteria throughout the school year and gave them feedback each time they demonstrated these skills.
This was a step in a positive direction. It certainly gave Beowulf more bite. And we had some clear goals we were working towards. We were helping our learners by clearly articulating what was expected of them. Our teaching and assessment practices were aligned.
But it still felt like something was lacking.
The best part of my job is building relationships with learners. I enjoy getting to know each and every one of my students, especially those who haven’t done well in school. I wasn’t a good student and barely graduated high school with a 1.6 GPA. But the more I learned about engagement the more I realized that it wasn’t me that was the problem with school. School was the problem for me.
When I was in high school all I wanted to do was get out of school and go skateboarding with friends. I loved learning new tricks and looked forward to reading the latest editions of Thrasher and Transworld magazines. I was in awe of the articles, interviews, trick tips, and photos lining the pages.
My friends and I watched hours of skate videos and tried to emulate our favorite skaters. We started creating our own videos. We would record ourselves doing our favorite tricks and then go back home, set up a couple of VCRs, and edit videos that both highlighted our skating and told stories. We included interviews and added soundtracks. We had a lot of fun doing this and I learned a lot about how to communicate through video. As a teacher years later, I thought, “I want to create a classroom that would have engaged the 16-year-old me.” This thought led me to the next step in my journey.
About 8 years ago I came across the TEDx of Dr. Tae, a physics professor at Lake Forest College, DePaul University, and Northwestern University. His TEDTalk Can skateboarding save our schools? revolutionized my perspective of teaching and learning. Dr. Tae explains how true learning requires trial and error and how grades get in the way of learning. He argues that there is a continuum of learning that is not always within a teacher’s field of vision. If we can open ourselves to a broader spectrum of what counts as learning, we can better engage our learners.
In 2015, my department revisited the purpose of English at Woodland High. We decided that it still limited the potential of our learners and relegated reading, writing, and critical thinking to inauthentic tasks, such as the five-paragraph essay and the formal PowerPoint presentation. Yes, it is important to be able to communicate one’s thoughts intelligently. But no one beyond the confines of school writes five-paragraph essays and rarely do people give formal PowerPoint presentations to captive audiences.
We wanted our curriculum to go deeper. We wanted what our students were learning to help them beyond the four walls of our classroom. Our new mission statement became, “Our job is to teach students to communicate, interpret, and analyze information and empower them in their own learning.” We wanted our students to own their learning. We wanted learning to inspire and extend beyond school.
I started incorporating more project-based approaches to learning. To learn Greek Mythology, my freshmen debate “Who is the greatest in the Greek pantheon?” in a bracket tournament (similar to March Madness) that starts with 16 gods and ends with one class champion. For The Odyssey, my learners conduct mock trials of the heroes: Odysseus for breaking and entering and assault with a deadly weapon, Telemachus for multiple counts of first-degree murder, and Penelope for falsifying information and obstructing justice. My learners address teen suicide by asking what factors lead to the death of Romeo and Juliet, researching factors and solutions that we can bring into our school. Students create blogs, podcasts, and video channels representing the mythology of various cultures. Now, learning has a broader purpose that extends beyond the classroom and demonstrates how the language arts apply to future careers. My learners tell me that they love my class. The bell at the end of class feels like an unwelcome interruption.
Over the past seven years, I have not administered a single test, taught a five-paragraph essay, or assigned any vocabulary worksheets—all of which were once staples of my pedagogy. I have not graded any assignments or projects. My learners do more writing, more research, and more speaking in class than ever before. I know my learners’ strengths and weaknesses and I address these through ongoing feedback.
Now, in my 24th year of teaching, I am the teacher I always wanted to be. I have strong relationships, my learners are engaged in the curriculum, and I feel I am making a lasting impact on their lives.
Aaron Blackwelder is a Washington State Teacher of the Year candidate, a Washington State English Teacher Fellow, boys and girls golf high school golf coach, a contributor to Spectrum Magazine, and is co-founder of Teachers Going Gradeless. Follow him on Twitter at @AaronSBlackwel1.
