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Abandoning Grading
“Since I’m on a tangent about assessment: I am using contract grading in my class this semester, though that decision has come under some significant fire. In thinking about Dewey’s [1997] reflection on experience, and how experience is not only inside the person, but actually changes the experience of the collective: I like to think (and feedback so far tracks this way) that changing the experience of my students to assuage their fears around writing is trickling, tentatively, into the attitude of the university as a whole. But if I, as the grader, am experiencing negative reactions from step-ups, is that experience also trickling down and poisoning the change my assessment practice (and other un-grading methods) is creating as a whole? I believe, as Dewey suggests, that experience is almost specter-like: carrying a certain hauntology with positive or negative effects as we move forward...” -- A reading response from my composition theory course, dated
September 5, 2022
Earlier in the piece, I described one assumption of teaching writing I feared, which was the grading process. For me as a student, grades were always one of the highest sources of stress, and, in many ways, directly aligning to my sense of self-worth. We all understand that writing is subjective, but my fear of failing to be anything less than perfect in my assignments became a source of deep mental distress. I know I am not alone in the feeling that receiving an unexpectedly low assessment on an assignment that was given considerable effort can be devastating. I recognize that in our contemporary modeling of the university, grading is somewhat of a backbone, but this is not an excuse, in my mind, not to critique and/or subvert the standard system. After working extensively in alternative grading strategies, which included taking a class using contract grading (Inoue, 2019), I chose with special permission to use an alternative grading contract in my first year of teaching, an extreme rarity in the culture of my program. I was incredibly excited by the idea that I might reinvent some of the trauma around grading, that I might find an assessment strategy that welcomed students, rather than sought to penalize them.
This decision though, to my surprise, received some significant pushback. This pushback came not from my students (nor have I ever since received negative feedback about my grading method from students: in fact, many have noted it as a highlight of their experience) but from other voices, one of which escalated to a major conflict with someone in a position of authority in my first semester of teaching. I was in a position of deference to this voice, and the situation was severe enough I began having panic attacks and a multitude of bureaucratic consequences. This was a further moment of loss of innocence, as I described before. I cared so deeply about my teaching, and my students’ experiences, that to see this decision fall under such severe scrutiny was distressing in multiple ways.
In that vulnerable space, I had to lean into my teaching, trust myself, find glimmers of joy in immense darkness in my students. I did not change my strategy, nor did my resolve diminish.
Pedagogical Strategies: Grading & Commitment
In my (un)growth, I needed to learn, similarly to that earlier loss of innocence, that some decisions would be unpopular. To be radical, to grade queerly, to assess writing beyond the normative strategies, can be polarizing. It almost goes without saying. What I did not realize is the degree to which it would be polarizing in my own experience. Contract grading, and any form of ungrading, is imperfect, and has consequences negative and positive (Cowan, 2020; Inman & Powell, 2018; Litterio, 2016). The pedagogical strategy I offer here is two-fold and instructor-facing rather than for students: first, that assessment is deeply personal, especially for graduate students, when we are being continuously graded ourselves, and choosing a strategy that honors who you are as an instructor is crucial. Second, that being radical in teaching is a risk, especially as a graduate student, and weighing the risks and rewards is important work. I cannot tell you if the risk is worth it for you, nor can anyone else who isn’t you. For me, it absolutely was, and I’ve only become more passionate and outspoken about the value of ungrading in the first-year writing classroom, as well as critical pedagogy. This does not mean it will be the case for you. Committing to yourself, and your philosophy as a teacher, is key.