How to Not Test Proficiency
As I said in my previous post I had a rather busy yet
productive semester. Of course not all things can go smoothly all the time and
I had one rather pedagogically uncomfortable blip this term that I would like
to share, if only because I am still trying to process the larger importance of
what happened.
This semester I taught a class at another college where I
had never taught before. It was a course which on paper seemed very similar to
a course I had taught for many semesters at the college where I have been
working for 4 years. It was a composition course that is mandatory for many
diploma programs at the college. I
looked forward to the experience as I look forward to any new course I teach –
an opportunity to interact with new material and new students.
However, from the start I could tell this was not to be like
any other course I taught. For one, it had just undergone a curriculum upheaval
(restructuring?) complete with a new book custom published for the particular
college demographic of this course. There were meetings at the beginning of the
year where the emphasis was placed on the importance of teaching critical
responses as the main written work to be produced. These critical responses
were supposed to be the format of the final proficiency exam. Great, I said,
let’s critique all the responses! Well it did not go quite like that.
It became clear that the way things were done at this
college was not like how they are done where I normally work, which is fine, I
can adapt; I love adapting! I set a syllabus that focused on writing summaries
first then the majority of the semester on grammar and reading for the purpose
of writing critical responses. There were
two major assignments, both critical responses to a text.
Then four weeks before the proficiency exam we were told
that the format would no longer be critical responses but rather a summary.
Insert record scratching sound here. So I quickly switched gears, circled back
to focus on summaries. The students were of course suspicious of why the sudden
change in the syllabus and focus for the course. This put me in a rather sticky
situation. When you try to build trust and support in a classroom and then you
do something rather uncharacteristic it changes the dynamic of the classroom
and adversely affects learning.
I want to take a moment to speak to the demographic of
students in this class. From the
beginning it became very apparent to me that someone down the line had told
these students that nothing that they did matters. This sort of belief was also
mirrored in the college itself. Litter was often strewn all over the halls,
windows broken and fixed with caution tape; it really brought to life how
important academic architecture is to the learning experience.
Very early in the term I tried to reach out to the students
and asked them to defy whomever told them they were not good enough and thus
produce their very best work and effort every week. It worked on some, but not
on all. It was clear to me that there was something more systemic afoot, something
that I probably could not alter in 14 weeks.
I will be honest and say I often came home discouraged;
discouraged in the same way that we as academics become discouraged when we
realize we are not Sydney Poitier and this is not the late sixties. However, I
tried to make the most of the situation and kept my positive energy high as the
term went on.
I had some very good students in the class and some who were
struggling but definitely gave a very good effort every week. I had faith that
they would do well in general on the exam. The exam is pass/fail and their term
work grade is the final grade they receive if they pass the final.
The final exams are double blind marked. As a process I can
see both the benefits and the downfalls of blind marking. Yes it removes any
tendency for bias that an instructor may have, but it also removes the
instructor’s history with the student and any progression that we may have seen
in their work over the term.
So we all huddled together on a snowy Saturday afternoon to
mark exams (which I was not paid for, but that is another story about sessional
malaise that I will not get into). They gave me a sheet of main points they
were looking for from each reading and a rough rubric. It became very clear
very quickly that this was not going to end well. Long and short on average
about 40% of each class failed the proficiency exam. 40% of EACH CLASS. I was
blown away. Those who passed their term work were given the option to re-write
on the Monday. If they passed they passed the course. If they failed the
re-write or simply didn’t show up for the re-write they could take an upgrading
course next term or repeat the class.
Another responsibility of the instructors at this college is
to email the students to tell them if they passed, failed or were allowed to do
a re-write. You can imagine the kinds of emails I received in return. It was
completely disheartening and I did the best that I could via email to guide
them and give pointers for how they could improve for the re-write. Some simply
did not respond nor show up. I can only assume they gave up and resigned to
take the course again (some of them for the 2nd or 3rd
time).
I ask you, how does this process test proficiency in writing
or reading comprehension? I had the opportunity to see firsthand why these
students were so downtrodden in September. I had been complicit in a system that I can
only define as pedagogically corrupt. How can a student who is running a 70+
all term end up failing or having to do “upgrading.” As a way to make sure the
instructor’s did not feel too terribly, the director sent an email saying the
fail rate for the exam was roughly the same college-wide. How is this supposed to be the silver lining?
Did no one stop and think when they saw such numbers across the board that this
may be a systemic thing?
I was asked to teach again there this term (a different
course and one that I was very interested in because of the material). I
declined because of scheduling but ultimately it was the better choice for me
ethically and pedagogically. I could not be complicit in something that on the
surface seemed so wrong. It was really a
low point in the term but it also gave me newfound energy. I am determined to
never see something like this happen at the college where I presently teach. It
was a hard lesson to learn; a lesson that I never wish to repeat. I feel
horrible for the students, though I know that I did all I could for them this
term.
Have you ever heard of such things happening at your schools?
I have purposely not named the school because it is not so much about the
school per se but the process. However, I am curious if this is isolated or if
such proficiency tests are done in this way at other places.
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