Center for Teaching and Learning, Western Kentucky University

A Newsletter from the Center for Teaching and Learning

February 2003 Vol. 13 No. 3 Western Kentucky University, Bowling Green, KY 42101

Focus on: Grading & Assessment

English 100 Exit Assessments
- Joe Glaser, English

For two years now, the English Department has required all English 100 students to submit an acceptable exit portfolio. The portfolios consist of an out-of-class essay that students have had a chance to revise, and a 50-minute impromptu piece they haven’t. Our guiding principle is to determine whether students have the skills they need to do well on writing assignments as they go on with their general education work. That’s also the reason for the other portfolio requirement—one of the pieces, usually the out-of-class essay, must use some material from the students’ reading.
At the English 100 level, this “research” provision does not mean papers with parenthetical documentation and all the trimmings. But students must show they can handle quotations and/or paraphrases in their writing. Acknowledgments can be informal, but must be detailed enough to make the writer’s sources clear.
English 100 faculty meet during the semester to discuss the department’s skills list for the class and to review sample portfolios. Then groups of three are designated as grading teams and meet to read each student’s work. If two of three readers fail a portfolio, that student fails the class and must repeat it. If two of three pass a portfolio, the student is cleared to pass the course, provided he or she has met its other requirements. Teachers who feel a portfolio has been failed in error can have it read by another team of three, whose decision is final.
We feel this portfolio procedure has worked very well to underscore the nature of English 100 as a component of Western’s general education program, to help teachers motivate students, and to encourage students to master the writing skills they must have to succeed in other academic work.

As a teacher of writing, I have developed a unique twist for grading a final draft of an essay in ENGL100C Freshman English. While many of us use rubrics for peer reviewing of rough drafts, I have the students turn in a business letter to accompany the final draft of each essay.
The first letters which accompany the first essays are worth only ten points and have them explain the purpose of a thesis statement and tell me what theirs are. In addition, they must reassure me that they have achieved unity by telling me the topic of each paragraph so that they prove that they haven’t lost focus. And finally, they must tell me about their coherence technique with examples from the beginnings of two or three paragraphs by copying the transition words, pronouns, etc. into the letters.
The next letter which accompanies the next essay is worth twenty points and must cover the above plus a new paragraph which focuses on individual paragraphs by pointing to at least two impressive topic sentences and reassurances that the support in those paragraphs maintains paragraph unity. Then, they must go on to inform me by way of examples how well they have done with coherence between individual sentences.
The letter after that for the next essay is worth forty points. It must include all of the above and yet another paragraph which now focuses on the type of title, type of introduction, and type of conclusion that they have used based upon notes from the lectures. Each successive letter requires more information from them and is worth more points.
I tell them that the whole point of the revision letter is that if they cannot find proof to support the letters, they will then be obligated to revise their essays even more until they have something that they can brag about in the letter. While many students despise the letter (and some have accused me of making them grade their own essays) because it makes them explain, in writing with examples, their efforts at revision, I calmly remind them that it is my duty to give them that ability to think about their writing in such an organized fashion because I want them to become independent of me. They can thank me later in the real world of writing when their colleagues are being fussed at by their bosses for a poorly written report and they aren’t.

In my math class, I give participation points for homework which comes out to be 30% of the total grade. We go over the homework in class before they turn it in and students must show their work and try all the problems. I also have short quizzes that they work on in small groups. The key to getting full credit is that everyone in the group must agree on the correct answer and all papers have to have the same work. I know this is not really assessment, really it’s another kind of learning activity, but just calling it a "quiz" gets the students motivated to complete the assignment in class and to work together. This helps students who have the correct answer to articulate their reasoning to other students, which can reinforce their own learning as well as encouraging students who have not grasped the concept yet and are feeling some frustration.
Some students don't want others to know that they don't understand, but in a "quiz" situation, they are willing to be more open and end up getting more out of the activity than they anticipated. Students also feel good about these quizzes, because they are reasonably sure that they did well and it gives them some confidence for next time. I do choose my groups judiciously rather than allow students to clump themselves so the groups are relatively diverse in terms of content knowledge.
My goal is to get the better students to help the weaker students through the problems. I have seen students who otherwise sit quietly (or sleep) through class without ever participating and fall slowly behind, but they feel good about group quizzes, and students ask if today's quiz will be group. The last part of the grade is based on three exams and a comprehensive final. Math is such an application course, and requires practice.

Changing the Way We Grade Student Performance
Anderson, Rebecca S. and Bruce W. Speck, eds. Changing the Way We Grade Student Performance: Classroom Assessment and the New Learning Paradigm. New Directions for Teaching & Learning. 74. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1998.

Part of the New Directions for Teaching and Learning series, this volume promotes a constructivist view of learning and provides examples of grading based on this view. According to a constructivist perspective, grading is not limited to “final” or summative evaluation of students’ performance, rather it includes a healthy dose of formative assessment along the way. The purpose of grading, therefore, is extended to include helping students learn how to obtain knowledge.
The authors of this volume give useful hints about including students in the assessment process and discussing assessment at the outset of performance tasks. Representing a variety of disciplines, the authors in the aggregate present a unified perspective of the need for alternative assessment in any academic discipline. Indeed, the authors draw on their own classroom experiences of using assessments that have helped students learn how to obtain knowledge.
The lead articles, written by the two editors, both of whom are from the University of Memphis, articulate the rationale for the book. In recent years national reform efforts have challenged the use of traditional assessment methods and have called for alternative assessment practices; however, the assessment of virtually any type of complex student performance has an element of subjectivity. The challenge, thus, is to make the assessment of student performance as objective as possible by using such alternative assessment practices as performance-based assessment, portfolio assessment, and authentic assessment.
Other authors, then, respond to this challenge by offering suggestions for designing and grading 1) oral communication assignments, 2) written assignments, 3) cooperative projects, 4) technology-based processes and products, 5) portfolios, 6) inquiry projects, and 7) student performance in real-world settings.
Of particular interest to me was the chapter on grading classroom participation, written by John C. Bean and Dean Peterson of Seattle University. Several years ago, I discontinued using “classroom participation” as a component of my grading schema when I realized that the term is very unclear and that I myself was unsure of how to quantify classroom participation other than by marking class attendance. Bean and Peterson identify three modes of class participation: 1) “cold-calling” on student in class, 2) collaborative learning, and 3) out-of-class behaviors (e.g., e-mail discussions on class listservs, timely completion of out-of-class journal entries, or even conferences with the instructor during office hours). They also offer a handy rubric for scoring classroom participation, ranging from 1 (for those students who have not read the material or have not done their assignment or those students who are hostile, bored, or overtly rude) to 6 (for those students who come to class prepared, contribute readily to class discussions, and show interest in and respect for others’ views). They also provide helpful suggestions for dealing with shy students and with students who frequently dominate class discussions. Their suggestions have convinced me to re-think my use of classroom participation as an important component of assessment in the courses I teach.
Professors throughout the disciplines will find many useful suggestions in this volume. The scoring guides alone make this volume worthwhile. They use clearly delineated criteria and corresponding rating values to make the evaluation of student performance as meaningful and successful as possible.

Education and Identity, Chickering, Arthur W., and Linda Reisser. Education and Identity. 2nd ed. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1993.

Education and Identity, 2nd ed., by Arthur W. Chickering and Linda Reisser is a 1993 update of Arthur Chickering’s original Education and Identity, which has become a classic in the student affairs profession since its publication in 1969. As you read the review that follows, please keep in mind that the book does have significant value via the insights it provides to those who are attempting to understand the overall effect that college has on students. Chickering (and subsequently Chickering and Reisser) are not necessarily “wrong” in their assertions; they seem to have a reasonably good grasp of the subject matter. The problem with student development theory in general, and this book in particular, relates more to how this perspective has been adopted as a core value for the profession without the kind of critical analysis that is more commonplace in other disciplines.
After an introductory chapter, which sets the stage for what follows, the book is constructed in two parts. The first section is built around a discussion and explanation of the seven “vectors.” These vectors are essentially developmental processes that students experience as they grow and develop, particularly within the context of their exposure to the collegiate environment. Chickering’s vectors include 1) developing competence, 2) managing emotions, 3) moving through autonomy toward interdependence, 4) developing mature interpersonal relationships, 5) establishing identity, 6) developing purpose, and 7) developing integrity. The second part of the book deals with the implications of theses vectors for the development of institutional objectives, fostering appropriate student-faculty relationships, structuring the curriculum in a holistic manner, and ultimately, creating educational institutions that are successful at precipitating true learning on a comprehensive scale.
Chickering and Reisser make a number of unsubstantiated assumptions about what student development theory can accomplish within the context of sound administrative management and pedagogical practice in higher education. It is not a given that student development theory should form the basis for everything that is done as educators endeavor to fulfill their societal mission. Being “theory-based” does not necessarily mean that a process is inherently driven by the appropriate motivational concerns.
The authors make the assumption that student development theory has its basis in, and is supported by, research that is fairly conclusive. In reality, the student development constructs presented in Education and Identity are somewhat disjointed and undermined by the fact that the kind of comprehensive studies needed to definitely substantiate much of what Chickering (and Reisser) present are almost nonexistent. This is not to say that the theoretical constructs are not meaningful, they may in fact be. But more empirical research is needed before justification can be made for the kind of across-the-board adoption that these ideas have enjoyed for the last thirty years or so.
For example, Chickering (and Reisser) seems to take it for granted that student development theory is a well-defined, somewhat linear process that can be explicitly categorized and understood in terms of concrete stages, phases (or vectors) through which all students pass on the road to maturity and social adjustment. Obviously, there are broad generalizations that can be made about the maturation processes that students experience within the context of post secondary education. But despite the extensive library of published material that has grown out of the student development “movement,” there is not a clear-cut consensus as to what student development constitutes in an ecumenical sense. Yes, we all go through changes as we grow and develop. We are all human, so logically there are going to be similarities in how these changes are characterized (i.e., there does seem to be a commonality with respect to key developmental dimensions); however, there remains considerable disagreement regarding what those processes actually entail given recent deficiencies in the Chickering (and Reisser) model articulated by advocates of multicultural education. Is there a common experience and a general developmental scheme common to all students? More importantly, does the scheme presented in Education and Identity accurately capture and convey this universal reality? Maybe. Then again, maybe not. The jury is still out.
Another point of clarification is the somewhat dubious notion that student development theory has an innate and self-evident practicality with respect to the individual, and this is where the ideas of Chickering, Reisser and others can be particularly dangerous. In attempting to teach the value of diversity in higher education, it quickly becomes apparent that a paradox exists which must be addressed. In teaching about other cultures, it must always be stressed that generalizations about any group do not translate into meaningful insights about individual members of that group. Should educators relate to African-American students as African-American individuals or as individuals who happen to be African American? Should they attempt to interact with students as individuals or as members of a group who are collectively at a particular developmental stage? There is a difference. In an effort to always be “theory-based,” the possibility is that students can be reduced to constructs instead of people.
At 485 pages, excluding the reference and index sections, Education and Identity has the look and feel of an intellectually weighty and relevant tome. Unfortunately, looks can be deceiving. It’s not that Education and Identity is a bad book, it’s just not as good as many have claimed.