Most of the class just got zero on a quiz. What now?

I gave my AP Physics 1 class an AP-level problem as a five-minute start of class quiz.  It described a block-spring system on a table, and asked students to graph various forms of energy "as a function of position" on the labeled graph provided.

Thing is, I've emphasized energy bar charts so much, about half the class didn't pay attention to the question prompt, or the labels on the graph.  They just reflexively used the grid to make an energy bar chart.  That earned zero points on the rubric.

And then half of the remaining students got no points for their graphs, which seemed to be made by three hundred monkeys sketching for three hundred seconds.  

What now?

Nothing.  

I explained how to solve the problem correctly, and each student graded someone else's to the rubric.  Some folks asked good questions; some copied down the correct answer and reasoning.  Some just graded the problem in front of them.  I collected the quiz, and we moved on.

How did we avoid complaining about the fairness of this question, or of life in general?  Through significant culture building since September.  This class long ago accepted me as an ally and coach, someone whose mission is to train them to prepare on the May AP exam.  They know in their collective souls that I wasn't making some sort of chest-thumping point about how dumb they are (or how smart I am).  They know that when they don't understand something, they've discovered an opportunity to learn and improve, not an excuse to be (figuratively) spanked.

Of course, no one feels good about missing every possible point on a quiz!  I don't want fluffy-bunny "I'm so happy for my zero!" responses - sarcastic or not - from my students any more than I want them paralyzed by shame.  

I don't mind that my students' egos were bruised a bit.  A quiz can hurt.  That's okay.  It's like a softball team losing a game - if you don't care that you lost, you're not invested enough in your team's success.  But if you're gonna throw a tantrum and quit, well, you've got a lot to learn about losing graciously.

The ideal response to a loss is to find something to improve upon for next game, acknowledge the hurt... and move on with lesson learned.  Same thing here.  I want my students to find one thing they could have done better and move on.  Even if that one thing is as simple as "when a problem asks me to sketch a graph, I need to draw a function, not make a bar chart or a free body diagram."

Because I saw how many students had drawn an energy bar chart, as we graded I pointed out the language of the problem, and explained how "sketch a graph" must be interpreted.  I solved the problem and described the rubric.  When we finished, (as always) I asked the student with the high score to choose the music to be played during the remaining lab time - it was important for all to hear that several folks got 8s and 10s out of 12.  They couldn't rationalize that "no one" understood the quiz - clearly a few people did!

Okay, but how did we build culture to eliminate whining?  It was a long process, and started the very first week.  I think it's important to call out complaining, whining, or sour-grapes rationalizations the very first time we hear them; and to follow through, again and again.

"Oh, we have a quiz today?  Ugh, I'm gonna fail."  We have a quiz every day.  Would you dare tell Coach Dugan* that you're planning to strike out four times today?  What would he say if you did?

*Played by Tom Hanks

"This grading is ridiculous, how were we supposed to know to use the variable g rather than 10?"  Excuse me?  I'm not comfortable with the tone of your question.  Now, if someone else has a similar question, they may try to ask in a respectful manner, and I'll gladly answer with reference to official AP scoring principles.

"I lost a lot of points just because I didn't understand what "magnitude of the acceleration" meant.  I could totally have done this problem right!  What can I do about that?"  You can do better next time you encounter the word "magnitude" on a physics problem.

"This totally isn't fair - most of the class failed the quiz.  Are you going to give us extra credit?  When everyone fails, it's not our fault."  If you have an issue with the content or difficulty level of the test, contact information for the College Board is available on their website.  You may explain your concerns to them.  Until they make the changes you request, though, I'm preparing you for the exam the best way I know how, and I will continue to do so with content commensurate with the difficulty of the real exam.

You know you've won this particular battle when the students themselves are giving these sorts of replies to their classmates.  See, the majority of your class want to focus on physics, not grub for points.  The majority want the loudmouth arguers to be quiet.  The majority will appreciate you setting a positive tone.  And then the culture reinforces itself in the long term, such that terrible performance on one quiz becomes a mere blip.

Quality of sports commentary matters - and American women's soccer

I tuned in a few months ago to Manchester City vs. Manchester United in the English women's soccer league.  And I got professional commentators, who understand the cadence of a football match.  

Yet, when I tune into the NWSL (the American women's soccer league), I hear one announcer who sounds like he was plucked from a midwestern fraternity house but has never listened to a soccer match before; and their partner, who prattles on about nothing while dramatic attacks or saves happen on the pitch.  

These commentators are doing their best.  I know they aren't paid well for their efforts. I am sympathetic to them.  It doesn't matter. I can't listen.  

For avoidance of doubt, my commentary complaint isn't about gender in the broadcast booth.  I've heard amazing female voices calling association football, both as analysts (as in that City-United game), and as play-by-play voices (as on some of the EFL Championship broadcasts, or as on the occasional NBC Premier League games).  Good broadcasting can come from people of any gender, any native accent.

Good broadcasting is also about intellectual depth.  Why is it that I, a physics teacher in Virginia, know more about the Portland Thorns players than the people who are paid to call their games?!?  It was a standing joke on Thorns twitter that it was time to drink when the commentator referred to Sophia Smith's or Olivia Moultrie's youth, or to Simone Charley's triple jump experience - because these sound bites seemed to be all the commentators knew about them.

I think there's a sense among powerful people that women's sport is meant only for ten-year-old girls and their families, and that media or sponsors are doing a mitzvah by even supporting the games at all.  I'll change this opinion when (a) the "She Believes Cup" competition is renamed to something less condescending, and (b) sponsors refer to the Super Bowl as the "Boys Can Do It Championship" or something similarly gross.

I'm a 48 year old man who teaches at a boys' boarding school.  I have no daughter.  My wife hates spectator sports.  And yet... I love women's soccer.  I love the players, their intelligence, their intensity, their authenticity.  The Rose City Riveters (the Portland supporter's group) are crazy, and are also positive and classy - they include none of the toxic masculinity that pervades football and basketball fandom in too many places.

I recognize that sport is narrative. It's live storytelling, very much like Dungeons and Dragons with different sorts of Dwarfs (Klingenberg) and Wizards (Dunn).  And even some Trolls and Goblins.

D&D played with a poor dungeon master sucks, even if that dungeon master is trying very hard.  Let's bring in the Arlo Whites, the Jim Proudfoots, the Richard Connellys, the whoever-these-folks-were-on-the-United-City game to call the NWSL.

Please.

US Invitational Young Physicists Tournament 2022 - results!

If it wasn't international travel issues or the plague, it was midwestern weather.  Nevertheless, the USIYPT happened this year, hosted by The Science House at NC State University. 

Despite the craziness in the world, this year's event still felt like a Young Physicists Tournament.  A diverse group of professional jurors watched physics fights.  Dr. Rongmon Bordoloi of NC State delivered a keynote address about his work on galaxy evolution using the James Webb telescope.  Student teams competed in preliminary and final rounds.  We talked about physics at a level where I can barely keep up (but the students could!).

A "Young Physicists Tournament" is no science fair.  Students present their work on four common problems (see below).  But, that's not the end of it - students from another school are appointed to lead a discussion about each presentation.  That's the heart and soul of the "physics fight:" two students from different parts of the world demonstrating their understanding through collegial conversation about their research.  This is a tournament in name and in that we award medals; but the better descriptor of the actual event would be to call it a scientific conference.

This year's problems asked students to:

• Measure their longitude using technology available before 1760
• Investigate the onset of turbulence in a French press coffee maker
• Derive and test an equation for the force between spherical magnets
• Explain the unusual properties of the "chain fountain"

Medals awarded include:

The Champions were the Nueva School of San Mateo, California.

Second place was awarded to Cary Academy of Cary, North Carolina.

The Clifford Swartz Medal, this year for the best performance in the final rounds, was awarded to Phillips Andover Academy of Andover, Massachuttses.

All the schools above, and Woodberry Forest School of Woodberry Forest, VA, were awarded the Bibilashvili Medal for excellence in physics.

In a unique event this year, teams whose physical attendance was not possible sent in posters of their work.  The poster session was juried by students from participating teams.  The student captains from each team conclaved with the Problem Master, and made a recommendation of the winning poster.  The Harker School of San Jose, California, were declared poster session champion, and earned a Bibilashvili Medal.

Most importantly, this tournament is about building relationships within a kind community of physicists.  Jurors spent time with other jurors, at and outside the tournament.  Students met other students like them who love physics, and also are interesting people beyond the confines of the tournament rounds.  Faculty from the participating schools collaborated with jurors and with other team leaders.  The people involved with the tournament become friends as well as colleagues.  And I can't wait to see my friends, old and new, again in 2023.

Oh, yeah: the 2023 US Invitational Young Physicists Tournament will be held on February 4-5 at the Nueva School in San Mateo, California.  Problems to be solved involve modeling how tuning forks work, investigating transmission of light through semi-transparent materials, the electrostatic pendulum, and investigating how and why the speed of sound depends on temperature.

If you'd like to attend, either as a juror, or with a team of your own, contact me!  I'm (for one more year) the president of the sponsoring organization.  I'd love to talk you through this unique and exciting event.  

(Here is the link to all participating schools and championships in the 15 year history of the tournament.)