Ten days (.03652968%) of their lives and you’d think it might be a life-defining moment. We are nearing the end of the quarter. You’d think we might be nearing the end of their time. The rush. The stress. The frantic frenzy. The tide on the rise.

Oh, but we are used to this. We do it year after year, term after term. What we do is important. It warrants such a response. This is their education. This is their window. They have to learn. And we have to judge their experience, else they are not learning. We have to rank. We have to sort. It’s time. The term is up.

Okay, I’m feeling/being a little snarky this Monday morning. And though this is a “formal moment” in our kids’ experience. And though there is value in what we do during our time with them, it is not everything. It is simply something that makes up a tiny part of their lives.

The average person in the United States lives an average of 27, 375 days. American students go to school for 2,160 days over the course of their K-12 experience. We account for only almost 8% of their lives. And though it could certainly be argued and supported that we serve in an important time of their lives, they will continue living and learning long after they leave us. They came to us learning. They leave us learning. And they live with us learning. All of them–regardless our record. Living is learning. And we just get to be a part of their living, their learning. We are not their lives. We are part of their lives–a small part in their vast ocean.

Okay, Sy, where ya going with this?

Here–which is likely not a popular position. We need to take things a little less seriously. We play an important role. I feel like I play an important role. I have to feel/believe that, and I do. But when we let the end-of-term and the marks we make on the transcript define us, our kids, our system, we miss the mark. And while we think we make the most of time with such formal marking moments, we diminish the best parts of our service, the best parts of our experience, the best parts of our kids.

Most of us hate grading time, for we now have to don our “Judge” hats, and we feel–I assume I am not alone in this–that our messy, beautiful moments with kids have to be reduced to a number or letter on a transcript, where we much of the time have to reduce learning to earning, as if it can’t be helped: the score is the score. But when we allow such “formality” to be the end all of our time with kids, we miss the mark. Yes, we “have to grade,” and we likely always will, but we don’t have to buy into the idea that grading, especially in the traditional sense, has to be done the way it’s always been done because it’s always been done, especially now. We need to give ourselves the permission and freedom to trust our human instincts, not our academic allegiance.

Not sure how that may manifest itself? Give kids an opportunity to select and support their final grade. But they are not grading experts. No, they are not. But they are experts of their own experiences. It’s their learning. It’s their story. They should get a chance to tell it. And we should not miss an opportunity to listen to their messy, beautiful, human stories. That’s the measure. That’s the tale that will endure time’s tide.

Wow. Did not expect to go here on Monday morning. Not even sure I went anywhere. Maybe I should have posted an “I am tired and uninspired” post as I originally planned.

Happy Monday.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.