Thursday, April 28, 2011

"I'm Sorry, Dave: I Can't Do That"


Government-mandated grade book, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways:

1. I need an internet connection to use you.

2. You require that I "upload" changes. My grade book makes changes in real time.

3. You're not very customizable. My grade book used multiple colors for categories, just for a starter.

4. You have few options: drop a low test score: whoopie! My grade book lets me do that and a dozen other things, including "anchoring" a grade so that a final grade can be pre-determined, no matter how the individual entries add up. This function is very useful when, for example, cutting a deal with a failing student who will deliver a body of custom work by a certain date in exchange for a guaranteed passing grade. But there are so many different options and functions my grade book has that it makes you look like a model T Ford next to the freaking Space Shuttle.

5. You actually screw up students' grades by forgetting to include some assignments in your calculations: oh, you let me put in my custom characters (√+, √, and √-) for quick-to-mark homework assignments and handouts, but you will deceive me by showing my check-mark, then figuring it as a "0" in the actual math. I have to take out the √, upload the page, re-insert the √, then re-load the page again in order for you to recognize the assignment. You lying piece of s—oftware.

6. There's no way to tell that you're senile brain has "zeroed" a full-credit score unless I roll my cursor over EVERY CHECKMARK to force you to show me how you're treating it. I will pass the cursor over 7 check-off assignments and a pop-up window will declare "√ = 10" for a ten-point assignment for each, but when I pass the cursor over the 8th assignment in that series, you will admit that for this one, "√ = 0." What the hell?! A kid's score shows full credit (a little "A"), but you're sticking him with no credit (a little "F") and pretending nothing is wrong.

Oh: 7 check-off assignments times 5 classes times 35 kids each equals 1225 possible points of error that I need to check individually. Hey, Thanks!

7. You imported all of my 6th period students into my 4th period class, leaving with with double-enrolments, a class of 68 students, and kids who saw that they had two English classes, one of which they were failing. I had to drop all those double-entries manually, and you STILL try to sneak a kid in once in a while, you glitch-laden piece of junk. It's frustrating enough to try to use you when you're running properly.

8. Because of the Parent Portal, I have parents e-mailing me asking why their kid doesn't have a score for a certain assignment, because they (the parents) don't know how interpret the marks that the program displays on their end. I have to remember to hide the assignment from public view until ALL scores are in, but that's not the default setting, so if I don't remember to do it, it displays to parents, and they freak out.

9. Creating printouts of students grade summaries, for a single test, or overall grade, is like pulling teeth. Clun-ky.

10. If I arrange assignments by category instead of date, which makes sense if I want to see an overview, then when a new student comes in, he's automatically failing as soon as the counselor adds him to my class, and I have to go in and excuse 20 or 30 assignments to start him off with "zero attempted, zero scored." What a pain. My grade book program only calculated a grade based on scores I actually put in for the new kid, an never penalized him for earlier work. Intuitive, huh?

11. When conferring with a student about what could happen to his grade if he turns in a good final project, I will create the assignment, then add his supposed future score, and show him the possible result. But as soon as I create that assignment and "turn it on," EVERY OTHER KID IN THAT PERIOD GETS A ZERO CALCULATED INTO HIS GRADE, because there are no corresponding scores for them. That throws the entire grade book into chaos just to show one kid his possible future score. There have been times I've forgotten to turn that assignment back off, and then every kid's grade is inaccurate until I catch it or it's brought to my attention by a panicked student the next day.

This grade book is a fail. Teachers lose autonomy, flexibility, options, and ease-of-use, in order that students and parents can look over my shoulder 24 hours a day. I'm not hiding anything, but I can hardly say that this is "my" grade book anymore.

Next, they'll be asking us all to plan our lessons together. Wait: THEY ARE!

We're really going down the big, bureaucratic, centrist-thinking, forced-mediocrity tubes. Compared to how it was when I started, it's hardly recognizable anymore.

The Rites of Spring

Early-release day today, because tonight is Open House.

I never seem to time things right for Open House. Ideally, teachers have lots of colorful, impressive work up on their walls that screams "We've been doing important educational things here: your kid can be president someday!" Well, maybe Corey Snow, but that's a whole different story.

But I don't have any colorful, impressive things to put on my walls for tonight: I have the rough draft of an essay that isn't even marked; I have a packet from our movie study of Of Mice and Men that isn't marked; I have a stack of Scan-trons that would look silly stapled to the wall. I could rush through some of the papers in the next couple of hours just to have something on the wall, but only about 1 out of 20 parents look at that stuff anyway, out of idle curiosity.

Here's my solution: I've edited together video clips of my juniors reciting portions of Poe's "The Raven," and I'm going to pump the videos from my laptop (trusty ol' gal that she is) through an LCD projector and just let the video run while I mingle and chat with parents. The videos are about 10 minutes long, which is how much time each class period of parents is with me, wo the video will be bell-to-bell. Anyway, tonight it will be "The Raven" as recited by your kid, maybe. Definitely a classic, and looks to be a crowd-pleaser, even though I think it's sort of a cheap-out.



Note: there seems to be a problem with the videos: the audio is fine, but the video is stuck in a fast-forward. Whatever, Google.

The kids actually did a good job with it: trying to capture the eerie mood and the fragile-but-steadily-dissolving sanity of the narrator, and to see their performances reminds me of the kind of nuance and subtlety they are capable of at this age. Anyway, parents should like.

That means the laptop will be conveniently un use, and won't be available to look a kids' grades. With Parent Portal (grrr) in place they should be up on the kid's grade anyway: asking me in person reveals that they're not in the electronic loop.