This week Tuesday classes on my campus were canceled because an ice storm made driving conditions treacherous. Instead of trying to recreate on Zoom what I had planned for my classes, I revised the calendar a bit and gave them homework (for my composition students this was watching The Social Dilemma on Netflix and preparing to write a summary of it). After I sent these instructions to my students, I realized I unexpectedly had the whole day free. I could do whatever I wanted. And you know what I did? I drove to campus and I spent the day grading papers. And I loved it!
Okay, maybe I didn’t love it but I enjoyed it. Really? You might be thinking, isn’t grading papers is hardest and most time-consuming part of the job? Yes, I won’t deny that. In fact, I am behind the schedule I’d set for myself for this blog because I was too busy grading papers last week to write anything. And last week I was actually a little grouchy about it, because there were other things I needed to do. But on Tuesday, the campus was so quiet and the view out my window of the empty, icy parking lot and the gray sky and lake behind it was peaceful, almost dreamy, and there was nothing else for me to do so I could dive in wholeheartedly.
It was such a grand experience, I’m going to try to reproduce it next time I grade. And the time after that. And for years to come (you get the idea). But you may be wondering, how is it possible to enjoy grading papers? How? I’m going to try to explain.
First, I should note that the assignment I was grading was my students’ Adventure Reports, for which they needed to embark on some sort of “adventure” and write about it descriptively, bringing the experience to life for their reader. These adventures are essentially just new experiences, such as trying a new food, taking a cold shower, meditating, trying a new workout routine, going someplace new, et cetera. They are not grand adventures (well, one student did go skinny dipping last semester) but they are relatively interesting papers. But that’s not why I enjoyed grading them.
So why did I? Well, it all begins with the right attitudes and beliefs, genuine or imagined. First is my attitude (that’s the genuine one): I believe that my students need to become better writers and that it’s not only my job, but my responsibility to help them do this. And this feels good because there have been times in life when people have needed my help and I couldn’t help them for whatever reason. But with my students, I can. I’m the one for the job.
Secondly, I have to believe that they care and are putting in their best efforts. Even though they are required to take the class (and many are not excited about it), I imagine they have chosen it and are essentially asking for my help, as if saying, “Please Professor Nelson, Help me to become a better writer. It’s important to me.” If I can believe this, it follows naturally that the papers they submit for grading are the best they are capable of producing. They are not perfect, of course, that’s why they are in the class, but believing that they care, are turning in the best work possible, and asking for my help to improve the paper and their writing, well, you can see how it’s easy to get fully invested in the work of reading, grading, and giving feedback. Because it matters.
I suspect teachers who believe their students don’t care and aren’t submitting their best work get frustrated much more easily when grading. And of course, I know (I know) that some students really don’t care that much and don’t work as hard as they need to on their writing. I know this because I’ve been teaching writing for a long time. But ignoring this, forgetting it, entering into the fiction that they all do care not only makes grading papers easier, it makes my job more satisfying. Because every class, every student, is a new opportunity to help someone, help make someone’s life better.
Now you might see the merits in adopting this dreamy attitude but think you can’t do it because you’ve seen too much–too many students taking shortcuts, plagiarizing, and/or saying right to your face, “I really don’t care.” But I still think you should try because here’s the thing: some of your students do care. Some of your students do want to become better writers. And you don’t know who they are. They don’t always identify themselves. In fact, the ones that appear most resistant could be the ones that genuinely want your help. They might seem resistant because they struggle with writing or because they’ve had teachers in the past tell them they were not good writers. They might feel hopeless about it but you’ve got to show them that there is a way.
For example, I had a student last semester who midway through seemed destined to fail–he’d fallen behind on assignments, didn’t seem to be engaged in class, and the writing he turned in, well, it wasn’t great. Still, I treated him (and graded his work) like he would turn it around, get on track, and eventually he did. We spend a lot of time together over the last month of the semester talking about his research paper (on the topic of “How has the Black Lives Matter movement affected race relations in our society?”) and he was able to transform a very rough rough draft into a decent paper. He’s not a great writer (yet), but he clearly made progress and wanted to improve. And now when I see him on campus, he always smiles and says hello, and seems genuinely glad to see me. I think it’s because I helped him. I helped him pass the class so he wouldn’t have to take it again, but I also helped him become a better writer, thereby giving him a little more control over everything in his life.
So no matter what, as long as the semester is still in session, I always leave open the possibility that even the most unlikely students are going to see the light and care enough to see the way forward and get the work done. If I didn’t think that way and didn’t take the reading, grading, and feedback process of all my students seriously, if I didn’t believe (even when the evidence seems to point in the other direction) that what I’m seeing is the student’s best work, I just couldn’t live with myself. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. I could live with myself, but I’d like myself less than I do now and I’d feel guilty for not doing my job and helping those I’m in a position to help.
One more thing about attitudes, which is that your students must believe that you really want to help them become better writers. There should be no doubt in their minds that that is your goal for the semester. And there are many different ways for you to say this to them and show it to them, but whatever you do, make it clear to them that you want them to succeed, that the semester is not going to be any sort of battle between teacher and students, it’s going to be Teacher & Students on one team working together for the same goal—producing good writing.
Of course, there’s more to it than just these attitudes and even if you’re not ready to adopt these, I’ve also got some practical advice that you can follow to make grading easier.
First, for each assignment, you need to give your students an assignment sheet that clearly states what they need to do, what the objectives are, and how they will be graded. Be specific. This doesn’t mean prescriptive necessarily, but your students should never be wondering what they need to do to meet the assignment goals.
Secondly, before they write their papers, look at sample papers with your students. Ideally, you will have some from previous semesters you can use. If not, spend a little time and write your own. I’ve found looking at samples of papers that met or exceeded assignment objectives and those that didn’t, for whatever reason, are both valuable. Discuss with your class why a sample paper does or not meet assignment objectives and you’ll find more papers submitted are on the right track.
Third, do peer review (see my last post for details on that) with a peer review sheet that is the same or very similar to the grading rubric you’ll use. This way students will get another round of messages indicating exactly what the assignment objectives are. These should be clear already from the Assignment Sheet, but remember these are beginning writers and sometimes they need reminders and/or clarification.
The fourth and final step is the actual grading, sitting down to read the papers, give the feedback and determine the grades (if the assignment is to be graded). To recap, the keys are to have the right attitudes, be confident that your students know you are on their side, give them a clear assignment sheet, discuss sample papers, and use a peer review sheet that is similar to the grade sheet.
If my students go through all of these steps, when I sit down to grade papers, everything is much easier than if they had skipped any of them. It’s easier for me because when students go through this process, the drafts they submit for grading are generally in pretty good shape. Obviously, some are better than others and there is room for improvement in all of them, but they are ready to be graded. In the past, before I included all of these steps, I’ve found myself grading papers that were way off from meeting assignment goals and that was frustrating, in a large part because I knew it would be even more frustrating for the student, who was likely going to have to essentially start the process over and write a whole new paper. That doesn’t happen for me very often now (if students follow the steps of the process I’ve set up).
It’s also easier for me because, while being judgmental is kind of out of character for me (and grading is in a lot of ways judging whether or not the paper meets the assignment objectives), I have no reservations indicating whether or not a paper is meeting the objectives. If I have made it clear that a paper needs to, for example, have a clear well-developed thesis statement, or present ideas from at least three sources, or incorporate some of their own personal experiences and observations into the “conversation” presented in their paper (these will all be required for the research paper later in the semester), if the paper doesn’t do it, I simply say so and grade accordingly, I don’t feel bad about it, and I know that the student won’t (or shouldn’t) take it personally.
As far as determining the grade, I think of myself as just a reader of the paper measuring how well it meets the objectives that are clear on the rubric and then just saying so. It’s liberating to be able to be able to “judge” the paper like this and not worry about anything else. It simplifies it. And it makes giving feedback easier because I can often refer to something we’ve talked about in class. I don’t have to explain everything again. And I even don’t feel bad about giving low grades if I have to (and sometimes I have to) because I let my students revise anything they want to throughout the semester. Not happy with a 73 on that paper? Look over the rubric and my feedback. We can talk about it if you want to. Resubmit and I’ll grade it again. And again after that.
For example, I’ve got a student in one class this semester I really like—he seems like a genuinely good guy and he sits in the front row and is always in class and engaged and answering questions—you know, the kind of student that makes my job, the actual in-the-classroom portion of it easier. His first two papers were pretty good and graded accordingly, but his last one, the Adventure Report, was way off the mark. The “adventure” he embarked on was “Bulking,” which is essentially trying to gain weight for sports by overeating and adding protein shakes and supplements. He made references to a few moments of feeling like his stomach was about to bust from cramming so much into it, but most of the paper was just an explanation of how bulking works and not a description of his experiences. So his grade was pretty low but I didn’t feel bad about it and didn’t think he’d take it personally because he just didn’t do what the assignment asked him to. It was as simple as that. And I’m actually looking forward to reading the paper when he revises it and explains in detail how it felt to go from 163 pounds to 171 in a week.
But while the grading (numerical and/or letter) portion of grading is not personal, the feedback I give is. In this way, when I’m grading papers I feel like I’m engaged in a sort of conversation with the student, and sometimes I give compliments (“good opening paragraph” or “good specific details here” or “great description”) and sometimes I give suggestions related to the organization or development of ideas, et cetera. Sometimes I ask questions. And these “conversations” feel meaningful to me, like I’m really connecting with my students. Do they read all my feedback and appreciate all the time I spend giving it? Probably not as much as I’d like them to. But I know they do because they often make changes based on that feedback. And that makes me feel good. Like I’m doing my job. Like I’m helping my students.
So, sure it’s hard work, and by Tuesday afternoon I was tired, the view from my window was not as beautiful as it had been in the morning, and I was glad to be done grading. But it wasn’t just glad because I had didn’t have to do it anymore, I was glad because I had done it. I was glad I’d had the chance and time and space to do it well. To help my students.
I guess that’s what grading is to me. Helping my students. That’s why I like it.
If you want to read more, come back for more and/or check out my book: Teaching The Way: Using the Principles of The Art of War to Teach Composition.
Here’s a link: https://amzn.to/3mwbz3y
Thanks for reading!
Teaching The Way 