Google Extension: Annotate Pro

Google Extension: Annotate Pro

Do you ever find yourself making the same comments on student’s assignments?  Yeah, me too….  This is a resource that will (hopefully) decrease some grading time. 
Oh! I forgot to mention in the video.  Make the comment a “favorite” (next to the active button), this will eliminate a few clicks during the grading process.
Note: No grading has been done during the making of this video 😝 …  I know I’m on maternity leave. I just can’t help it.
To make up for it- here’s a picture of the little guy šŸ™‚
Hope this resource helps now and in the future! 

Thoughts on the Re-Do

Earlier this month I sent an email with both an egregious spelling error and a punctuation error in the subject line.  I noticed the error about one minute after sending, but still too late to retrieve.  Here it is. 
So I had to decide what to do.  Should I resend and correct my spelling error, or let it go and hear my own bells of shame? 

I
choose to let that spelling/typo error just go without a re-do.  I felt like I would be clogging your email, and that you probably figured out sesmster meant semesterI really wanted to resend, but it didn’t feel right. I hoped my reputation wouldn’t suffer that much.

Earlier that week I
also sent out an email with the wrong attachment, and because of a special schedule, the wrong times.  Again the decision-
should I resend and correct times and attachment, or let it go and hear my own bells of shame?  I did re-do this one.  It was a MAP test email and had information
I did not want to be lost in the errors.  I couldn’t risk it.
 
 

That same week, I was re-grading a bunch of student work done in a collaboration with Gaeby and Miranda on the Little Big History Project. I try my hardest to give students the opportunity to re-do without grade consequences, and I am always surprised more students don’t take me up on the re-do. Plenty do but by no means all.  This has puzzled me, because do you remember I said I really wanted to send a correction out right away All things being equal, I will re-do.  The juxtaposition of my experience with re-doing choices and students’ choices made me wonder if they do a cost/benefit analysis, too.  And what do they see as cost vs benefit?

The grade matters, even in a nontraditional graded course like TMS. If the grade will change, the benefit of the grade outweighs the costs in time and study for some students. I  wonder if one of the costs – facing the embarrassment of the error – is too great for some.  I really hope they don’t hear the bells of shame because I emphasize making mistakes as part of learning,  but I am afraid some do.   I wonder if some students just hope that their equivalent of my sesmster error will somehow suddenly make sense to me.  So are they hoping for a no-cost solution?  That hope is not very realistic,
because once I grade, I don’t look back without the redo.  It is a shame grades cant be conversations
, but I guess conversations have a time cost, too.
I can state a lot of reasons for my errors.  Multitasking, sugar overload, terrible typing skills, a get-ā€˜er-done stance, over-reliance on spellcheck…
but I donā€™t claim carelessness.  I have felt some students are careless, but I also recognize everyone has limited time, and just have to put somethings on low priority.

Sometimes I feel they re-do because they know they can do better work. That is the cost/benefit analysis I want my redo offer to validate.  I feel so happy they are recognizing a chance to either learn or demonstrate learning. I
want students to be able to present their best work, but I also want them to have agency in their learning.  Teaching is complicated.

The Ongoing Grading Conundrum

I used to be the King of Grading. Self-anointed, I walked
around school with a huge stack of essays under my arm and a red pen behind my
ear. Many nights Iā€™d head out to Peets after putting my kids to bed, and grind
through essays until the workers started mopping the floor to close. Then Iā€™d
come home, still jacked up on caffeine and grade a few more, quitting when the
words started blurring. Life was a constant tally of the paper load. A passable
day would be ten, a fair day fifteen, and there were a few epic bender weekend
days where I could touch forty.
I burned through red pens in those days and left the essays
bleeding with feedback. I considered myself a master at articulating personal
writing advice that would make each student more aware of her writing self. I
was part judge, part coach, part machine. It became my mission to give students
feedback that would present a clear path towards improvement.  
Before each class began, I returned the work I had graded
face down on the desks. The anxiety in the room was thick, as students entered
and began flipping over the papers. But instead of diving into my feedback and
considering my carefully articulated suggestions, most students just looked at
the grade on top and put the essay away. Often, they would ask the nearest
classmate what she had gotten to affirm their own place in the class hierarchy.
It made me wonder how many of my comments were read, let alone applied to
future writing assignments.
My feedback in those days started to feel like a
justification of the grade more than anything else. I learned early on that many
Carondelet parents really care about
their daughtersā€™ grades. Those parents had a strong voice, and I needed a
well-mounted defense before the attack came. While I would sometimes force my
students to read my comments, or write metacognitive responses to my feedback,
most of that time I had spent gouging away at their essays had merely been for
the possibility (and hope) that something would happen afterwards.
Grading and assessment has always felt like one of the holes in my teaching. Iā€™m sure thatā€™s why I overcompensated for so many
years by pouring feedback onto every piece of writing. I have used many
different rubrics in many different ways, but I still feel like this last piece
of my studentsā€™ writing process is lacking. One challenge is having so many
students, and knowing that they need to write often to really grow. We all know
that feedback is best when immediate, but how can we orchestrate that with 150
students? Staggering major assignments can only buy so much time. Is carefully
crafted feedback that comes back two weeks later better than cursory feedback
given two days later? My gut tells me that the value of any feedback diminishes with each passing day.
So here I find myself, rocketing into another school year,
still searching for the magic bullet that will resolve my issues with assessing
writing. Despite my best intentions, once the essays start coming in, I usually
settle for whatever works to keep the paper flow from bogging down. I still donā€™t
know if rubrics are best, or wholistic grading is best, or conferencing is best.
I suspect that a paper saturated with red ink is overwhelming, but how much
feedback should I give to really direct my students? Does every piece of work
that students turn in deserve credit that impacts the grade, or should a grade
be truly an assessment of student skills and mastery? What about portfolios?
And how do I take something as complex as a piece of writing and use some hocus-pocus translation to quantify it with a number? Eighty-seven or eighty-eight?
Seventy-two or seventy-three? Can someone get a hundred? Why sixty?
As with many aspects of teaching, Iā€™m left with more
questions than answers. And thatā€™s with twenty years of experience. But I
remind myself that this is what also draws me to the field of education. It is
such an ever-changing puzzle, and correct answers are slippery and transform
with time. If youā€™re not able to face constant ambiguity, this profession can
make you crazy. Fortunately, I kind of like puzzles.
I started this blog intending to declare that this is the
year I face the assessment question head on. Iā€™m working as part of a team of
English 2 teachers who are recreating our curriculum. My team members often
donā€™t let me settle for what is going to be easiest, which is something I
really value. Tiz has given me two books on grading that are slowly moving
upward on my stack of next books to read. But the papers still keep coming in,
and I need to keep churning them back out. I think the best I can commit to is
wandering out blindly in this direction and see where the journey leads me. Hopefully
my thinking is transformed when I get to the other side. If you have any
epiphanies or struggles, please share ā€“ I know there are better ways; I just
donā€™t know what they look like yet.

Ruminations on Grading and Homework

After attending a few different language conferences this year, Iā€™m scratching my head thinking about grading percentages, homework, and late work. Since meeting other teachers who are on proficiency and mastery-based grading systems, I love the idea of assessing students for what they are actually capable of or how much they grow by the end of the year. And again, on the bus ride home from Shalom last week, Tiz and I had a great conversation about how to approach late work that still has me scratching my head. 
Homework, for better or worse, is one of my least favorite aspects of this job. Back in my day (full disclosure: Iā€™ve always wanted to use this phrase) I was the annoying senior who had 7 classes every day, took all honors and AP classes, played three varsity sports, and did all my homework into the wee hours of the night in order to be able to turn it in on time Every. Single. Day… I’m exhausted just thinking about my high school days. And while I didnā€™t have the constant distraction that is social media, I had something equally painful — AOL Instant Messaging. Yep, teens have been finding ways to avoid doing work since the dawn of time. I always figured if I could juggle all of that, why canā€™t other students do the same on the more humane block or modified block schedules? (I realize how unfair it is for me to even ask this question.)
In a perfect world, I wouldnā€™t assign homework. Is homework fair, equitable, and just? I am always wondering about how many of my students have to work to support their parents, take care of their younger siblings, take care of ailing parents or grandparents, spend several hours commuting (walk, to bus, to BART, to bus, to home), or anything else that teens are having to deal with on a day-to-day basis.
Yet, for most of this year, I have assigned homework three times a week. And my syllabus states that late work incurs late penalties.
But how do I ensure that students are actually doing the homework themselves? Even in instances of recording themselves speaking French, how can I be sure they havenā€™t Google Translated an entire script, memorized, and then hit record? How do I know they arenā€™t sharing answers? How do I know someone else who speaks French isnā€™t doing it for them or helping them? How do I know they aren’t doing it because they’re pulled into too many directions? How do I know they aren’t doing it because they simply aren’t good at time management? How do I know they aren’t doing it because they frankly just don’t care?
In terms of collecting late work: is it fair to accept work nearly a month late and give the same grade as a student who did the work on their own and submitted it when it was due? Is it fair to me to continue grading homework all around the clock because students are turning work in when they get to it? Is it fair for a student’s grade to tank because, while they’re performing relatively well in class, they just aren’t keeping up with the homework? 
Is it fair for us to require students to be at school from 8-3 (or even 7-5 if students have 0 period and do after-school sports and extracurriculars), and also complete several more hours of homework per night? Are we as educators doing our jobs if we can’t fit everything we need into our class periods?
I don’t have an answer to any of these questions and the more I think about them, the more concerned I become!
So here are my (MANY) questions for you, fellow educators whom I deeply respect:

  • Do you assign homework? 
  • How much homework do you assign per week? 
  • How long do you expect students to work on your assignments per night? 
  • What kind of assignments do you have students do at home? 
  • Is homework a category in your grade book? 
  • Do you assign late penalties? 
  • What do you do if a student submits a major assignment a day, week, or even month late? 
  • Is it easy to spot if your students are cheating on these assignments or not? 
  • Have you noticed the students feverishly working in the halls before your classes comparing answers or trying to finish work? 
  • Are students complaining about homework when they enter your classrooms each day?
  • If you assign work in Schoology, how many of your students are submitting their assignments past midnight on any given day? 
  • What percentage of your students are actually doing all of their homework? 
  • If youā€™re not assigning homework, what does your grade book percentage breakdown look like?
Iā€™ve dabbled in optional homework this month prior to Spring Break. Iā€™m merely asking students to listen to French music and pick their favorites, which we sometimes discuss in class. To be honest: I even polled my students. They all told me theyā€™re studying vocab or grammar on their own outside of class in addition to the homework I assign. I really havenā€™t even noticed a difference in their performance on classwork and assessments since removing the homework aspect from my classes this month. Instead, I am trusting that students are studying what they need when they need to. To be transparent, Iā€™m counting performance on classwork and projects in the homework category instead of homework to ensure that my students still receive steady grading input and feedback each week. 
Butā€¦ I canā€™t help but think there must be a better way to go about this. Thank you, in advance, for helping me think through this issue.

The case for not grading final exams

There is talk around Carondelet about the value of final exams. Rather than a mere rehash of what students learned during the semester, final exams should have the potential of elevating students to a higher plane of learning. A great final exam gives students the opportunity to synthesize the most important ideas they have learned and apply those ideas in new contexts.

Although final exams are a very useful culminating activity, I hate grading them. So, I would like to propose an alternative.

Here are two reasons why students should grade their own final exams:

  1. Evaluating your own performance is the ultimate metacognitive activity. Students could complete an extra assignment after their final exam that leads them through a metacognitive process. Students will be required to justify their final exam grade through a number of criteria. Students will continue to learn even after the final exam!
  2. At least in my classes where I give lots of assignments and tests throughout the semester, final exam scores rarely influence the student’s semester grade. Is this the case in your classes? If so, then why should we grade those exams? In the self-grading scenario, teachers grade only the final exams that move a student’s semester grade up or down.
Please respond to this post if you think I should (or not) pilot this new grading system.

Why do I get anxious for finals? Iā€™m not the one taking them.



Every time I sit down to grade finals I have a mild panic
attack. Granted ā€“ I am prone to over thinking and anxiety anyway ā€“ but I donā€™t
have this with grading at any other point in the year. 
      Questions swirling around
my head;

  •       Was my final good enough? What makes a final a
    final anyway??
  •       If my students didnā€™t stress out over my final
    did I even do my job?
  •       Why didnā€™t I write a better rubric? Why didnā€™t I
    foresee the glitches?
  •       How much should this assessment impact my studentā€™s grade this late in the semester?
  •       How would another (better) teacher grade this?
    Do I really know what I am doing?
  •       Did I grade too hard? Was I way too soft? ā€“
    Probably the latter honestly.
  •       Are my grades too high? I really am happy with
    the work have done but shouldnā€™t my grades be more like a bell curve than a Nike
    swoosh?
  •       How does someone go to summer school for religion
    anyway??
  •        Should I let students know that the grades are in in
    case they want to see them before Christmas Would that just be chaos?
  •      Ah.

Anyway ā€“ my grades are in. Per my usual I went over
everything 10 times to make sure there were no surprises. Is this a new teacher
thing? Is this a crazy person thing? Does anyone else question the heck out of
themselves before submitting grades?

More Writing, Less Grading—it’s true!

            I want
students to write more, but I want to grade less. It just so happens I found an
avenue to make this happen.
            For five
weeks in a row, Iā€™ve had my sophomores spend the first half of block writing
about a selected passage from Jane Eyre.
During the second half of block, they use a single-point rubric to peer edit in
a round-robin fashion.
            After that,
each student decides which essay she would want to turn in for a grade. I
collect the ā€œkeepersā€ but I donā€™t grade them. The next week, after another
timed write and round of peer editing, I pass the keepers back out. Once again,
students choose between the essay they wrote today and the keeper from last
week. I collect the keepers again, and so on. It reminds me of being at the eye
doctor: ā€œWhich one is better? 1 or 2? Better here ā€¦ or here?ā€
            Today is
the last week, and at the end of the day, I will have a stack of keepers to
grade. They will have written five in-class essays and I only have to grade
one.
            Here are some
of the benefits:
  • Students do not receive a letter
    grade until the final one, so they have to look beyond ā€œthe bottom lineā€ and
    actually think about how they are doing
  • Students engage regularly with
    the rubric to better understand how to write well
  • Students learn to rely on their
    peers for feedback instead of seeing the teacher as the only expert in the room
  • Students rely on their instincts
    and self-evaluative skillsā€”they take ownership of their writing
  • Each week is another opportunity
    to out-do the last keeper, so students are motivated to do their best each time
    (you should see them scribbling away!)
  • If a student misses class or has
    a bad day, she knows she will have four other opportunities, so it takes the
    stress level down
  • In-class, handwritten writing reduces
    cheating
  • Itā€™s great for formative assessment:
    I can quickly read through the stack of keepers and intervene individually for
    comprehension gaps or writing skill gaps
  • Students are compelled to
    consider key passages from Jane Eyre
    that they may have glossed over in their reading
  • Students have choice in which of
    their essays receives a grade
  • Students practice a type of
    passage study they will see on the SAT and AP tests
  • Increased writing volume and frequency
  • Students receive instant feedback
    on the same day from their peers
  • Students get to see how 2-3 other
    students approached the same passage and prompt
  • Peer editing happens while the
    writing itself is fresh in their minds
  • Students talk to each other about
    their approaches while they do their round-robin peer editing

            Iā€™m so
excited about how well this works and hope to adapt it going forward.  

For Frosh: Weighting grades by MONTH rather than on TYPE of assignment

Frosh: Weighting Grades by month rather than by the type of assignment.
I am playing around with weighting grades in a new way if I
get to teach frosh next year and I am looking for feedback.
When we assess the work that freshmen are doing at the beginning
of the year we are NOT assessing the skills they have learned in our class, we
are assessing what they learned from their teachers in 8th grade.
An essay that a 9th grader writes in September is
a bigger reflection of what they learned from their 8th grade
teachers about writing than it is an assessment of what we have been able to
teach them. To me this leads to grades that do not reflect what a student has
learned in OUR CLASS and therefore are not really valuable assessments to
determine how effective we are as teachers.
We know that there are inequities in the quality of
education that our incoming 8th graders are receiving. I know this
full well having been one of those incoming 9th graders who came
from a K-8 where quite frankly my education sucked and I was way behind until
about junior year.
Here is what I propose: we weight the grades based on how
far into the semester we are. So in other words assignments and tests from
August count for 10% of a studentā€™s grade. Assignments and tests in September
count for 20%. Assignments and tests from October count for 30%. Assignments and
tests from November to December count for 40%.
By giving weight to the assignments at the end of a semester
we are allowing students to grow and demonstrate content mastery without being
so heavily penalized for work that was subpar at the beginning of the year. A
student who cannot write a coherent essay in August should not have that essay
count to the same degree as the writing that they are doing in December.
This also put more responsibility on US ā€“ to make our grades
reflect what we have taught them instead of how much skill they already have
coming into 9th grade.
What do you think ā€“ has any one tried this?? Do you hate the
idea?? Is it worth a shot??

Teaching angst subsides with a new approach

            Part One: The Problem.
            Toward the end of last year, I was
missing some of the thoughtfulness that my credentialing program had infused
into my teaching. I craved a more intentional approach and some backwards
planning. Not only that, I didnā€™t get a sense that my students were engaged in
reading and writing as much as Iā€™d hoped. I think English teachers in general try
to solve the problem of students who ā€œfake read.ā€ (It hurts when students donā€™t
LOVE books the way we do!) English teachers also regularly reevaluate how to
teach writing effectively.
            Time is a factor. Most teachers
would agree that students simply need to read more and write more, but that we donā€™t have unlimited time to
read in class or to collect and grade a constant flow of material if we want to
give meaningful feedback.  We also find
that once there is a letter grade on an essay, written feedback is not as relevant
to the student; therefore, it is not as effective. Ideally, students should
receive feedback on multiple drafts before they receive a final grade. (Some educators
argue that the process ought to count for part of the grade because isnā€™t
process more important than product?)
            I used to be an editor, and I came
to grading essays with an editorā€™s mindset. I thought it was my duty to circle
every single mistake. Of course, now I know how demoralizing it can be for a
student to work hard on articulating her ideas, only to have them thrown back
at her, all torn apart. But with each year of teaching experience, Iā€™ve noticed
that I feel far more energized and effective when I meet with students on an
individual level. Iā€™ve also noticed that the most effective time to meet with
them is not when they are ā€œfinishedā€ (can you ever be finished with an essay
youā€™ve had less than two weeks to write?).
            Rather, if I conference when their
ideas are in development, I can help them find their passion on the topic. And,
when they feel strongly about their thesis, they will take more care with their
craft. A little further along into the drafting phase, if I have time to meet
with students again, I can convey customized grammar lessons, pass on
compliments, encourage engagement, and have a conversation about writing. I think itā€™s a more positive experience all around.
            Last year I felt stuck in a loop of
collecting essays, spending inordinate amounts of time marking them up, and
dreading the next stack of hollow arguments, especially when errors were
repeated. I tried grading on Turnitin.com to see if I could go faster and offer
more pointed feedback. I tried various rubrics and checklists. I tried asking
students to process my feedback and reflect on it. I tried giving them revision
opportunities. Still, I found myself crunched and wishing that the whole thing
seemed less chore-like (for both me and my students). Even more critically, I
found students wanted me to do the thinking for them: All they had to do was
implement my edits and receive a better grade.
            Then, I saw an advertisement for a
new book. Itā€™s called 180 Days: Two
Teachers and the Quest to Engage and Empower Adolescents
by Kelly Gallagher
and Penny Kittle (Heinemann). The
book is part creed (the authors make a case for ten ā€œwe believeā€ statements
about teaching and learning), part detailed description of how they structure
their year around those core beliefs. The authorsā€™ philosophy resonated with me,
and its practical, organized approach to planning curriculum with the purpose
of creating engaged readers and writers, spoke to my angst and need for
direction.
            I read itā€”and annotated it!ā€”over the
summer, and what resulted was a major overhaul to several of my approaches. I plan
to blog about my changed approach as the school year progresses, both my successes
and challenges. Stay tuned.

             

Late work consequences have me in a Tizzy

Late work consequences have me in a Tizzy
I knew boundaries were going to be a problem for me when I
entered teaching a few years ago. Teachers need boundaries in order to maintain
sanity. For example, I am slowly learning that itā€™s important to allow the
evening to be family time, even if parents email me. I am learning that if I
give myself the entire weekend to plan, I will use the entire weekend to plan.
I may explore this work-life balance in a future blog,
because itā€™s a struggle for me to put aside work and focus on self-care and
family. Perhaps itā€™s because I am a newish teacher, still excited, still
exploring, still learning, still idealistic. Still insecure.
But today I need to reach out to my colleagues about a
different sort of boundary. I am terrible at following the policies I put down
on my course outline at the beginning of the year. One of the toughest
categories for me centers around late work. Practically speaking, it is hard to
be consistent and to track who I gave an extension to, how many days late
something is, how many points I said I was going to take off for lateness ā€¦ not
my forte. Not to mention I am confused about the interplay of toughness and
redemption.
In my credential program, I learned that tying points to
behavior is considered passĆ©. My general sense is that at Carondelet, we donā€™t
believe in it either. Grades should reflect mastery of skills. Behavioral
issues should have non-grade consequences. Iā€™m going to digress from my
struggle about late work for a moment to provide a dual example of a logical
consequence and my own ineffective enforcement of it. If a student comes to
class unprepared and asks to go to her locker to retrieve a book, I do not take
points off her grade. Instead, as I said
in my course outline, she will receive a tardy because coming unprepared is
almost the same as arriving late. But ā€¦ I havenā€™t kept up with this rule. If
one of these sweet Carondelet girls asks me if she can run to her locker for
her book I smile and say, ā€œSure. Go ahead ā€¦ hurry!ā€ I may, depending on mood,
add ā€œBut next time you need to come prepared.ā€
I think I am a softy, and knowing that, I want to be more
careful about the policies I set up: Am I willing to enforce them? If so, I
need to do it, or I wonā€™t feel very good about myself down the line. Thatā€™s the
thing about boundaries: we set them for ourselves. They represent a line we
draw about what is acceptable to us. Letting people cross my boundaries makes
me feel gross inside. And if I know that I canā€™t enforce my boundary, perhaps I
need to question why I set it in the first place. Is it because I thought I
should, based on some classroom management guruā€™s advice?
Sometimes, though, we know that the boundaries we set are
for our studentsā€™ benefit. We want our students to grow into women of heart,
faith, courage, and excellence. They need guidelines and parameters. My
question for you all is, what is a logical consequence for turning in work
late? And how can I be true to our culture of redemption and encouragement
without doing a disservice to these girls? I have some students who are one
month late on an important assignment. I want them to complete the work and to
learn. I want to assess the work fairly. But there has to be some consequence
for being this late. Otherwise, students are learning that deadlines do not
have to be respected. Meeting deadlines is a life skill; one students will need
in college and the workplace in order to succeed. Beyond that, we are talking
about an interpersonal skill. Students need to learn respect for other peopleā€™s
time and feelingsā€”they cannot cross othersā€™ personal boundaries without
consequence. I am troubled by the message I send when I accept one-month late
work without a consequence that stings. Even if I am well-intentioned in wanting
to be merciful and supportive. I often find myself expressing gratitude to a
student for following through so that I finally
can change the zero placeholder in the grade book. I think the zero has
bothered me more than it has bothered the student all this time!
I recently came up with one logical consequence, but it only
applies in certain situations. In the same spirit of learning, I try to offer
my students the opportunity to rewrite their essays after receiving my feedback
and a grade. When some students turned in their essays a week late, I decided they
had lost the privilege of a rewrite opportunity because now I was grading their
first attempt at the same time I was grading their peersā€™ rewrites. The
insanity has to stop somewhere.
I have thus far been comfortable with taking off a little for
lateness ā€¦ but a month late? Is 10% enough of a consequence? Is it fair to the
other students? Should I say that the highest you can earn is a C- if you turn
something in that late? My sonā€™s middle school core teacher wonā€™t accept late
work and he feels quite clear and secure in knowing what the boundary is. He
gets two late passes per year, and they allow him to be one day late. He said
that after one month, he wouldnā€™t even expect his teacher to accept anything.
But, I tell him, I do want my students to finish the work because itā€™s
valuable.  We go back and forth. He wants
me to be tougher.
My final musing on the subject goes like this: Maybe turning
in work late isnā€™t a behavioral issue that must be treated outside the grade
book. Maybe meeting an assignmentā€™s deadline is an integral and crucial part of
the nature of school work. Even if I can get my head around that, and I think I
can, I wonder what the magic numbers are. How late before we donā€™t accept it at
all? What is the ratio between late days/weeks and percentages off the grade?
I want to hear from my colleagues on this. Do you struggle
as I do? Do you have a good system you can share?