Commenting on Student Papers: Helpful or a Waste?

 Uncategorized  No Responses »
Sep 232015
 

I was a huge fan of the Sommers’ reading.  Check this out:

“The challenge we face as teachers is to develop comments which will pro-vide an inherent reason for students to revise; it is a sense of revision as discovery, as a repeated process of beginning again, as starting out new, that our students have not learned. We need to show our students how to seek, in the possibility of revision, the dissonances of discovery-to show them through our comments why new choices would positively change their texts, and thus to show them the potential for development implicit in their own writing.”

This gave me nerd chills: commenting can be helpful to students provided the comments are actually phrased in a constructive manner.

The least helpful form of commenting is when professors say vague, ambiguous negativity.  When I was in school most of my professors would say random negative things, “This doesn’t make sense,” “I don’t like this,” and “Sentence Fragment.”  Not only does this form of commenting leave the student feeling hurt, but also it gives them no idea how they can make it better.  Obviously the student would have made it better if they knew how, but with this form of commenting it’s like the teacher is standing on top of their grave and yelling at them not to be dead.

This is why I’ve tried to make my commenting in ENC1101 more suggestive based.  For example, when I start a paper off, if the student uses vague language, I’ll try to give a suggestion for how they could be more specific with their language.  “In your introductory paragraph, you need to be more specific about the word ‘problems.’  Economic?  Social?  Pyschological?  Narrow it down.”  Then later on when I say things like “vague language,” I tell the student to refer back to the example I showed them in their introductory paragraph.  Utilizing this method of constructive specificity with my commenting, I’ve had a positive reaction from students.

In my morning class, I have two students who are already doing better.  One of the students got a “D” on his first paper because he fudged his margins and used vague, generic language in order to convey the idea of saying profound things without actually saying anything at all.  In his paper I told him so with my comments.  His second essay has all of the commented areas fixed as well as improvements to other areas.  His grade for this 2nd paper is a “B.”

Comments can be helpful, but they need to be written in a way that the student can understand and make use of.  Further, commenting isn’t enough; students also need to feel like their teacher is a real person, and not just some vague authoritarian abstraction hovering over their shoulder, screaming every time they use the passive voice or make a comma splice.  Personal relationships create a sense of trust with students so that when they read teacher comments, they know and want to pay attention.  The more I do this teaching business, the more I’m realizing that it’s all about respect.

 Posted by at 6:36 pm

Is It Possible to Grade Writing Objectively?

 Pre-class Reading Response  3 Responses »
Sep 232015
 

One thought, among many, as I read Lynn Z. Bloom’s, “Why I (Used to) Hate to Give Grades and Lester Faigley’s “Ideologies of the Self in Writing Evaluation”:

Last week I asked my students to do an in-class exercise in which I asked them to give me an evidence-based response to the question:

“Based on what you presently know about the 2016 Presidential race, who would you support if Election Day was next week? If you don’t yet have a strong candidate in mind, who have you already eliminated from the race? Why?”

The results were

6 – “For Bernie” because he’s genuine, is truly a “for the people” politician and has good, common sense ideas
3 – “For Donald” because he’s a business man, we’re in debt, and we need someone to negotiate a debt settlement
2 – “For Marco” because he is open and accepting of immigrants and has good religious values
1 – “For Hillary” because she did the whip and nae nae on Ellen
19 – “Not Donald” because he’s dangerous, a blowhard, anti-women, anti-immigrant
3 – “Not Hillary” because she’s dishonest
1 – “I’m not voting, politics are stupid, this assignment is stupid and I don’t care”
1 – “None of your business, Ms. Sutton. We shouldn’t be talking about politics in class and I don’t appreciate you asking this question and trampling on my right to privacy”

As part of her/his argument, that last student, who has kept me on my toes all semester, reasoned that divulging that information to me might put her/him at a disadvantage since we can’t help making judgments about people based on the information we’re given.

And s/he’s right, in his/her own convoluted, rude way (consider your audience, grasshopper!). Right away, I formulated stronger positive opinions about some of my students and gave myself a mental high-five for being “right” about others.

 

 Posted by at 6:01 pm

Twist for the Pop: Unpacking Bloom’s Jam Metaphor

 Pre-class Reading Response, Uncategorized  No Responses »
Sep 232015
 

Bloom’s jam issues are, as he indicates, rooted in the multitude of ingredients available—the many focuses for grading criteria. Ultimately, the grader wants to send home something reflective of the work’s objective completeness, or as close to objective as Bloom’s “disparate components” can manage. By following those critical focuses, applying them in equal portions,   an objective grade can be arguable reached, but what use is objectivity in an art form that, at times, relies on subjective interpretation (if not directly on the paper, at least in opinion formation). Blooms concern about broccoli and baloney finding the jam encapsulate this dilemma: how much is too much? The red pen needs sleep too.

The solution is to send each student home with their own kind of jam. Every paper has its strengths and weaknesses, and those majorly affected ingredients should be the focus of grading criteria: praise for plump blueberries but reprimand for buying the brown sugar instead of refined white. Addressing the whole list of malfeasant ingredients isn’t practical or constructive, as the line between constructive criticism and “you’re terrible at this” to a student can be as slight as relentless semi-colon correction.

Why comment rants happen, and other misplaced grading techniques

 Pre-class Reading Response  1 Response »
Sep 232015
 

It’s tempting to get into a punitive mindset while grading papers. For example, although we went over proper MLA citations in class, students were given additional resources on where to find citation information, and no one asked questions about this, it is still incorrect. Or even though we spent an entire class discussing organization, paragraphs wander from their original focus, and it’s difficult to find an overall structure in the paper.

The plus side to grading papers

The plus side to grading papers

We feel ignored and unheard. There is a strong urge to use comments to show what students failed to do, rather than demonstrate how they can improve.  Sommers emphasizes this “hostility and meanspiretedness” as opposed to the computer system’s “calm, reasonable language,” which is more helpful in opening a dialogue with students.

In addition to keeping language objective, we have to be careful our comments are encouraging students to take ownership over their writing. This is difficult to accomplish while giving specific suggestions, and I’m not sure I’ve mastered the craft. One student last week complained about his low essay grade, saying “but I fixed everything you told me to.” There must be a disconnect here. Comments aren’t meant to give students a “fix-it” list, but rather to help them become a better reader for their writing. Until we master this in our commenting, we’ll continue to bang our heads against brick walls and hope for the best.

Blooming Freshmen

 Classroom Praxis, Pre-class Reading Response  No Responses »
Sep 232015
 

I totally tracked with Lynn Bloom’s “Why I (Used To) Hate to Give Grades” until her last few paragraphs. The reason why is the same reason I consider this post a double-whammy in Classroom Praxis and Pre-Class Reading Response: I tried it with freshmen, and it didn’t work.

A few weeks ago I had the Bloomian inclination to have freshman ENC1101 students grade their own drafts. My thinking was partially on par with Bloom’s (in that they would shoulder the work of proof), but also around other ideas like:

  • it would force them to read their own work critically (instead of cranking it out and handing it in to me as soon as they hit the page limit),
  • they would be tricked into practicing the art of rhetoric and argument, which is arguably one of our main teacherly goals of instruction in ENC1101,
  • they would feel less entitled to A’s once they found flaws in their writing,
  • they would begin to understand, in using the grading criteria, what “standard” is used by our Department to determine their grades,
  • they would be forced to participate in a dialogue about their writing’s strengths and weakness, rather than stick to the age-old submit-and-receive relationship of grades from the teacher,
  • they might start to recognize their identity, authority and capacity to shape their own life and experience as maturing college adults, rather than passive, powerless freshmen,
  • a boatload of other idealistic reasons.

Almost all of them gave themselves A’s, though I interestingly had many students — largely female, if we want to break it down by gender — who underestimated their grade like Suzy. That might have been fine, but they had zero proof or argument as to why they deserved the grade. All this signals to me that the requirement in Bloom’s method is that you have students who are mature enough to handle the burden of self-evaluation. And it seems like that’s something they learn over time, maybe with age. On the bright side, it also showed me that there’s merit to what they’re learning in ENC: that they need to learn what argument is, and how to do it.

But They Won’t Talk To Me

 Classroom Praxis  1 Response »
Sep 222015
 
8 am take tow

8 am class

If you place a computer in front of the student in the illustration above, and a cellphone vibrating on the desk you’d have an idea of what my 8A classes look like. Since the first day of class countless GTA’s have warned me to keep my expectations of interaction low when dealing with Early Morning Freshmen. I, the Murray of optimism, knew that couldn’t be true.  I knew that several consecutive weeks of echoed silence were a just a fluke (flukes)(if it keeps happening I guess its not a fluke at all but you know what I mean). I shared my growing frustration during colloquium and my classmate offered a simple technique she used to rouse her students (hey Stephanie!). While taking attendance she asks each student a question they can’t answer with a yes or no. Questions like their favorite color, movie do the trick. I tried this method and here’s what happened:

8 am take tow

They responded to me! They all answered questions and even went so far as to ask if they could direct the questions to each other! I was so excited and completely surprised by the effectiveness of such a minor questions. Anyway, in regards to praxis. The excitement that students had gained did not waiver, mine either by the way. We discussed some global paper issues with increased energy and I saw a significant increase in class participation. I highly recommend employing some of these questions, and letting students help.

Drawbacks: If you’re like me, and choose to ask some students why, the activity can be time consuming.

 Posted by at 12:59 pm

The Old (Grading) Testament

 Pre-class Reading Response  No Responses »
Sep 222015
 

The problem with grading is just that: a problem. Receiving a grade as a student feels quite
natural––it is an impending doom and gloom that hangs over the heads of all––but, as a student grows from
child to teen to adult the definitiveness of grading changes. Spelling, history, and science exams
demanded a form of memorization; a cut and dry of right and wrong, something more swallowable, more black
and white. Through the advancement of schooling a student becomes less graded on right or wrong, but on
how either right or wrong is deduced, on how a student is able to critically think. It is in this facet
that grading almost becomes somewhat empty or completely irrelevant; how is a teacher to grade a student’s
thoughts or thought process? Grading becomes a contrived process on critiquing form of what can be
considered the universally accepted “how to” on writing a college paper. Bloom solidifies this idea of the
problematic grading structure: “Each and every grade reflects the cultural biases, values, standards,
norms, prejudices, and taboos of the time and culture (with its complex host of subcultures) in which it’s
given. No teacher, no student (nor anyone else) can escape the tastes of their time” (Bloom 363). During
my undergraduate, I can safely assert that from professor to professor my papers were similarly
accomplished in skill and scope; yet, every once in blue semester I’d have a professor who I just couldn’t
get to give me the “A” I knew I deserved. Something just wouldn’t click between my writing and their
thinking; and while that is fine, it raises a level of injustice being served to students who just can’t
click with their teacher.

“Is this the right room for an argument?”

 Pre-class Reading Response  No Responses »
Sep 182015
 

In my ENC 1101 classes on Wednesday, I played a clip of the Monty Python Flying Circus “Argument Clinic” sketch for my students. In this clip, a man (Michael Palin) pays to take part in a really good argument from another man (John Cleese). Cleese spends the entire argument simply contradicting whatever Palin says, and Palin gets annoyed. “This isn’t an argument” he claims huffily. “An argument’s not the same as contradiction,” he continues, insisting instead that “an argument’s a collective series of statements to establish a definite proposition.” Finally, he claims that “argument’s an intellectual process.” I was reminded of this sketch as I read Don Murray’s article.

“Writing is a demanding, intellectual process,” Murray says, by way of countering the more established view that writing is a product. Whereas Cleese’s character wants the “five-minute argument” to remain merely contradictory, a product that in its simplest terms covers all the bases for disagreement, Palin’s character wants something meatier. He wants a considered, reasoned, and intellectual argument. Murray goes on to say that the way to obtain better work from our own students (the good argument that Palin so desires) is to shut up and let them write. Merely “giving an assignment [that] tells him [sic] what to say and how to say it” robs the student of the opportunity to think critically about her work (3).

I think this seems at first to be a more balanced view on how to approach writing. This view doesn’t rely on discussion, or lecturing, but instead says that only by doing will the students grow. What Palin really wants is for Cleese to listen to what he’s saying and respond in a thoughtful manner. Simply saying “No it isn’t” won’t further the conversation. Of course, this view also expects something of the teacher. She can’t simply say “write” and trust that the students will do so in a truly engaged way. We must, Murray says, learn to be “quiet, to listen, and to respond” (3). In this view, only through this respectful treatment of the student’s abilities, with attention to where the student is and where she could go, will we be able to receive stronger writing.

 

 Posted by at 4:05 pm

Processing the process of writing

 Pre-class Reading Response  No Responses »
Sep 182015
 

While grading the final drafts for Essay One, I began to notice that my students broke down into three categories. Of course, there were those students who didn’t have a thesis. These students papers tended to only summarize the reading; most information present in their essay was pulled directly from Restak, and there were few, if any, outside examples. The next group of students all had a thesis; however, the thesis used was something talked about during class, in many cases using my own words. While these papers were stronger than those papers lacking a thesis, after listing examples I, or a fellow student, had brought up during class, the essays would then abruptly end, summarize Restak’s article (if there was additional content needed for length requirements), or bring in information/examples that didn’t relate to the thesis (again, due to length requirements). My final group of students, the precious few, had essays with a thesis that focused on something that they seemed to feel very passionately about. These papers, by a large margin, were not only easier to read, the support was both unique and relevant. While there were still small problems with unrelated support, most of that support could have been connected to the thesis easily.

Many of this latter group, to use Sondra Perl’s words, seemed at times to be “lost . . . or excited” (369) by their own work, even if the students were less than enthusiastic about Richard Restak. I found myself, largely, commenting on ideas for expanding support. I also found myself using many exclamation points.

The fact that these students found their “potential voice[s]” (Murray 3), and the benefit that this was to their papers, made me realize that I had perhaps done my class a disservice by trying to connect outside ideas to Restak’s article. I believe, in the future, I will have an entire class period devoted to students first writing about something that they are passionate about, finding if this passion can connect to the article, and then have students create a working thesis. This may end in failure, but my hope is that it will, at the very least, help some of my students find their own voice. If successful, I will probably follow this with a connected assignment focusing on unique support.

Felt Sense to avoid word vomit

 Pre-class Reading Response  No Responses »
Sep 182015
 

I found the concept of “felt sense” does a nice job of giving a name to the chaotic way I prewrite. My prewriting process typically involves several sheets of lined paper with random notes written haphazardly all over them – things crossed out, ideas rephrased, arrows to make connections, and absolutely no semblance of process or strategy. I simply write down the beginnings of my thought processes and move through the ideas until I feel as though I have landed upon one arguable topic. This works for me, so I have never bothered to change my process. I think the process of felt sense has less to do with inspiration and more to do with an organization of thoughts.

I often bring up the idea of “word vomit” to my students in class, and the importance of avoiding chaotic writing that has no organization. I think that the need to experience a moment of “felt sense” allows students to avoid word vomit. The goal of prewriting is to work through your ideas ahead of time, whereas papers with word vomit work through the thought process while simultaneously working through the writing process. This often leads to the thesis not becoming entirely clear until the conclusion paragraph. In order to encourage felt sense and avoid word vomit, I think students need to be encouraged to view writing as research. The goal isn’t to answer a prompt, but to first pose a question for inquiry, work through the answer to that question, develop an argument, and THEN write. These steps allow students to experience felt sense and understand why it can strengthen their papers.

 

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