I did a
six-year tour in competitive marching band.
The band practiced longer hours than most varsity sports in preparation
for weekly competitions in the autumn.
We usually won – sometimes we lost.
Yet the philosophy of preparing for judged performance has been
ingrained in me, and has lasted for decades.
The band’s
leaders – student leaders and adult leaders alike – emphasized controlling what
was controllable. There’s no “defense”
in marching band! We can control our own
performance, but not what competing bands do; and not what a given judge might
think of our performance on the day. We
got better every practice, with the goal of marching the theoretical “golden
show”.
After any
competition, we listened carefully to judges’ comments and considered how to
use constructive criticism to improve. We
gave full-on effort in practice five days a week, holding each other
accountable for our level of effort, because, fundamentally, we wanted to
WIN. Without the chance to be declared
winner, I doubt that we would have prepared as intensely. Nevertheless, we knew when we had marched a nearly
“golden show” without waiting for the judges to consecrate the performance with
a score or ranking.
This
“control what is controllable” philosophy bled into my academic and then
professional life. To me, a grade is
like a judge’s score – it provides validation and motivation, but is secondary
to the pursuit of knowledge itself. I
remember friends in college being shocked when I earned a B+ rather than an A-
in a political science class… then being even more shocked when I shrugged and
said “yeah, but I probably deserved the B+ in Russian where they gave me an A-,
so it all evens out.”
Then I
myself was shocked in my first years of teaching when I discovered such a philosophy was utterly foreign to the majority of my students. They felt personally wounded when a grade was
lower than they expected. They wanted a
prescription to earn a grade: do these things, get this grade. The idea of learning for the sake of learning,
of education as an end in itself rather than a means to an end, did not compute.
Thus, I’ve
adapted my approach to grades over the years to reflect my marching-band-informed philosophy of preparing for judged performance. Many years ago I made grades translucent; and recently in my AP class, made them irrelevant throughout the year by means of a contract. (The band didn't get official judges' scores after every practice run-through - only at each contest, and then only the end-of-year state contest mattered for our collective memories. Just as designed in my AP class's contract.)
More importantly, I've led my in-class culture in the direction of our band's culture. Nowadays, my students know that I will hold them accountable for just three items: work hard, take care of one another, and get better every day. We talk about how to accomplish each of these three goals, which are attainable for every student in my class, no matter their natural talent.
Someone could get a good-enough-for-them grade while sleeping through class? Well, that someone isn't making progress on any of the three goals, and thus is called out until they improve - just as a star football player who half-arses practice and taunts teammates is shunned until they change their attitude (and then welcomed back into the fold when they do, ala the Jamie Tartt arc).
The weakest student in the class meets all three goals? Generally, such a student's grades improve throughout the year. In the positive culture we've established, even low grades tend NOT to be perceived as a character judgment. I've delivered my judgment on this student's character by trumpeting to their classmates, advisor, and parents that they are indeed working hard, taking care of classmates, and getting better every day. We celebrate every success, even small successes. Such a student is, in fact, controlling what is controllable, and achieving what they're capable of achieving.
Now, understand I'm in my 28th year of teaching, at a school with tremendous administrative support, and trusting parents who live hundreds if not thousands of miles away. Even here, building my class culture to attain a positive attitude toward judged performance has been a long and treacherous road. It only takes one not-dealt-with bad apple to ruin the barrel for everyone. It's taken long-term investment such that I have confidence that colleagues, parents, and administrators will see the positive aspects of the culture we've built, and thus support my efforts to maintain that culture.
And just as importantly, my long-term unflagging dedication to culture building means that those colleagues, parents, and administrators who don't agree with my approach to schooling at least recognize that it's not worth trying to fight me on culture issues.