Rubrics And Risk

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            “Frankly, I’m amazed by the number of educators whose opposition to standardized tests and standardized curricula mysteriously fails to extend to standardized in-class assessments.” 

            That’s Alfie Kohn in 2006, in what’s become one of the best known critiques of rubrics.

            I am not as harsh a critic of rubrics as Kohn is.  But I am inclined, like Chris Gallagher, to prefer descriptive rubrics, student-created rubrics, or individualized rubrics designed collaborately between teacher and student that are specific to each assignment.

            But I like Kohn’s point about standardization, which I think is even more relevant now than it was when he wrote that article.  Collectively, we are so resistant to standardized testing and standardized evaluation of our teaching, but then why are we comfortable with standardized rubrics?

            This makes me think of some recent articles I read in Slate and Smithsonian about creativity and risk-aversion.  Both articles were in response to a study that showed how hostile most people were to creativity, even though we give it a lot of superficial praise.  One of the articles also mentioned studies in risk-aversion that show that teachers are the most risk-averse professionals.

            Not that this is surprising given the scrutiny and vitriol teachers have been subjected to, especially in the last several years.

            But at some point we all do have to take some risks and thereby reclaim our profession, even if these risks are small scale endeavors like individualizing a school-wide or departmental rubric. 

            I used to subvert my district’s demands for standardization all the time.  Once we had a principal who was determined to raise CAPT scores by requiring monthly CAPT assessments.  And to make sure we all complied, these were to be submitted to our department head each month and then passed along to the principal for review, which he would then send to central office.

            I knew nobody was looking at these things.  Just to test my theory, I created a CAPT activity for a mythology unit for freshmen.  Mind you, no student EVER saw this assessment.  This was created and submitted for the sole purpose of testing my theory that this requirement was just an exercise in CYA and/or arbitrary assertion of authority for authority’s sake. 

            Remember the old CAPT Response to Literature questions?  What is your initial reaction to this story?  Has anything like this ever happened to you?  Make a connection to another story.  Respond to this quote.  Define good literature and evaluate this story according to your definition.  I created a CAPT activity for a unit on Oedipus.  I wrote questions like, Have you ever felt incestuous desire for your mother or murderous feelings toward your father?  Explain why or why not. 

You get the idea.

            At the end of the month, I submitted my CAPT activity as required, and never heard a peep out of anyone.  It’s probably still on file somewhere.

            I did similar things, like submit departmental rubrics with student artifacts that I never shared with students.  My students got written and mulut feedback throughout the drafting process and then a full page at the end which described each essay’s strengths and weaknesses.  The list of canned descriptors with boxes next to them I reserved for the same file cabinets that held the CAPT practice exercises.

            I also refused to use the number codes on the progress reports and report cards, and instead wrote even just a short note for each student—much to the chagrin of some colleagues, though I knew of others who did the same thing.

            My point in these acts of subversion was twofold.  One, I wanted to resist the push to quantify and standardize (and dehumanize) teaching, especially assessment.  And two, I wanted to show that the emperor wore no clothes.  These mandates had limited or no pedagogical value, yet most teachers complied out of fear of reprisal.

            This is not to suggest teachers should do something quite as risky as some of the things I did, but perhaps we can push the envelope a little bit here and there?

            I used to enjoy creating assignments with my high school students.  At the end of a unit, Friday’s homework would be to come in with six ideas for paper topics.  We’d workshop these in groups till we had a set the class liked, and then we’d repeat the same process for the rubric.  The end result was that the students had ownership of the assignment and insider knowledge of its assessment.

            Was that too risky?