Better Learning
How can I leverage my kids’ levels of commitment?
This has become my front-and-center “Better Builder” question to which I am seeking my own authentic answer. Still seeking. But in my seeking, I am inching closer–I think. I hope.
I ended last week’s post by giving you a glimpse of what I am calling my “Levels of Learning Commitment,” which is but a part of the larger scheme for my “Select-and-Support” approach to determining a final grade. Really, this work, this idea, began last winter when I first floated the idea of not offering any grades lower than a C in my classes (C to See, Might As Well Jump, and The Table We Set).
As ever, I was seeking to minimize grading to maximize learning, and I decided to eliminate D and F grades in my classes, leaving a C as the lowest letter to name learning at the end. But it also gave rise to another name, “Commitment.” As my longtime readers know, commitment v. compliance has been an ongoing battle in the Project 180 journey. I loathe the latter (compliance). And I champion commitment as the necessary component of any authentic learning experience. So, it was with commitment on my mind that I created the “levels” below. Of course, as with all my “betters,” work remains, but at the 11th hour I had to come up with something, and just days before this year began, I settled on this approach to meet my kids in their learning this year.
I wanted “commitment” at the center. I wanted “commitment” out in front of us. But what did–does–that really mean? The answer began with a look to the evidence, the support in the “Select-and-Support” approach I take with my kids. At the end of the term, the kids write a “Learning Letter,” which I call, “My Learning, My Story.” Learning is a story. And as I thought about their learning experiences in my room–in any room (now or later), their commitment to their learning becomes central to their experience. So, I wanted to more intentionally make that our focus throughout our time together–beginning with the beginning.
As such, last week when I asked the kids to create their “Deck of Cards,” I asked them to save their “Commitment Card” for the end. I told them that we would complete that one together. And so, on Friday, I asked them to consider the levels of commitment in the larger context of their learning experiences, and then I asked them to indicate their level of commitment to me at the outset of our journey this year, so when we literally lay their cards on the table in our “Meet-Me” meetings, I know where I am joining them in an important part of their own journey. To that end, I asked them to simply write the letter of their commitment on the card. And they did. And I think we are clear on what it means. And I think that’s a good start, but if I am an honest, it’s not all good. There’s plenty I do not love about this approach.
First, the letter. I hate that I cannot fully get away from grading. Yes, I have reduced its impact significantly, and I will continue my work in this regard, but I am still not free from it. But, it’s the currency, the language of the system, so I have to conform some. So, I do, but grudgingly.
Second, the focus on effort and completion. I feel like it steers dangerously near “compliance.” But it also captures commitment. Learning is not about focusing on effort. But it’s not not about focusing on effort, either. Our work–my students’ and mine–requires work. I can’t work (teach) until they work. Thus, it is a big part of the story. And my including it was–even if it’s not obvious–about commitment and not compliance. I think how I am reconciling it in my own mind is that there is only value added by their efforts. There is no value taken away by their lack of effort (no penalty). This is what I am telling myself for now.
Of course, there are other points to make about what I don’t love, but this post is dragging on some, and I haven’t even gotten to my point: How do I leverage my kids’ levels of commitment? I will am coming to this, but first.
Their level of commitment drives my level of commitment. If a kid indicates a level of C, then that compels me to respond with a support level of A. I am not letting the C kids off the hook. On the contrary, I am using it as an opportunity to understand how far I must go to meet them where they are ( a C is far). If the goal is for all to get an A, which it is and I tell my kids as much, then a C simply means I have to “level up” my support for that kiddo. And this, essentially, is how I have sold “Commitment” to them.
And because I have framed it as such, when I engage them on their levels of commitment, I feel as if I can better come from place of honesty–that, indeed, we have all our cards on the table. That we understand each other.
To that point, last week when the kids and I were talking about effort and completion of our tASKs from the week, I reminded them of their choices: all, most, and some of the work, not none of the work. We did not agree to that, for it was not a choice. No “none” in here. And it seemed to register. There was no none. There was only all, most, and some–each wearing the size that fit.
Perfect? Nope. Better? Maybe. Time will tell, but time will also compel better. Lots of doing, reflecting, and doing better ahead. Here’s one better I created and captured last week in an effort to raise my level of support.
This is generated from my “Support Cycle” poster I presented last spring. I will write more about it later, but it is just one way I am trying to meet my kids in their learning.
Happy Sunday, all. Thank you for letting me muck around in my thinking a little bit. Long ways to go on this, but maybe it will help you consider some of your own “Better-Building” questions as you seek your own authentic answers. See you all next week.
Do. Reflect. Do Better.