When I started teaching 17 years ago, I would look at student work only to give it a grade and check it off. I relied on publishers to test my students and to tell me what to teach. I would start at Chapter 1 and hope to finish the text before the end of June. In those days, my focus was on me—my plans, my lessons, my teaching. It embarrasses me now to confess this. I would like to call all of my early students and apologize for my selfishness.
Since that time, a revolution has taken place in my classroom and in classrooms like mine across the state. In California, we have moved beyond a skill-based curriculum, which has to do with teaching, to a meaning-centered curriculum, which has to do with learning. Because of this shift, student work has become the center of education. Teachers no longer follow the guidelines of publishers but, instead, look at their students to determine what must happen next.
The Power of Portfolios
A portfolio is one strategy teachers can use to focus on student work. In Poway, we've been using Language Arts portfolios for almost three years now. That might seem like a long time in education, but we are just beginning to reach new understandings.
At first, we coped with the physical problems of portfolios. Who should keep them? Where to keep them? How often should we look at them? What should go inside? Since our new report card stated that “grades” were based on a collection of work, portfolios appeared in some form in almost every elementary classroom.
That first year, portfolios were much like the work folders that teachers had traditionally kept for students. Teachers, rather than students, made most of the selections. The portfolios were organized storage bins, where work went in but never came out. Then at the end of the year, the portfolios were sent home—much like a scrapbook for the year.
In a few places, however, some exciting things were done with portfolios. At Los Penasquitos Elementary School, the 3rd grade team met in a tiny storage room—portfolios in hand—to look more closely at the 3rd grade language arts program. All the portfolios were shuffled and dealt out like a deck of cards. We then spent about 45 minutes, silently reading and making notes. The first surprise was how accurately the portfolios portrayed our students. I remember reading through one folder and saying, “Mary, Sarah appears to be struggling with writing. All of her pieces are short and done just to complete the assignment. Her reading list shows that she enjoys reading grade-level books.”
“That's right,” Mary replied, surprised that I knew so much about a student I had never met. This interchange was repeated time and time again. It gave us great confidence that portfolios could provide an undistorted image of student effort and achievement.
When we looked at the collection of portfolios as a whole, we made some important discoveries, too. Worksheets and formula writings were much less informative than student-generated topics. Our 3rd grade team decided to spend less time on formula writing assignments that asked students to fill in the gaps—and more time teaching young writers to focus on one topic. So, although we were really looking at student learning, we learned a tremendous amount about our students and our 3rd grade program.
Developing Models and Rubrics
The power of looking directly at student work as a team cannot be overstated. Real student work gives teachers a starting point for conversations that get to the essence of what happens in classrooms. Samples of student work are concrete demonstrations of what is known and what is not known. They also provide teachers with signposts that mark how far we've come and point us in the direction we must follow.
At Los Penasquitos, the principal provided released time for the grade level teams to get together. However, in schools where there is staff interest, teachers can still meet. Bernardo Heights Middle School is a perfect example. Last fall teachers on the 7th and 8th grade teams decided to establish schoolwide standards in writing. Using a prompt from the California Assessment Program (CAP) handbook, we asked every 7th and 8th grader to write about a school-related experience. Students completed these essays during a 45-minute class period—all were first draft pieces.
That afternoon we met to select examples of student writing to serve as models for our 6-point rubric. Papers were shuffled about from stack to stack. We placed pieces that showed promise in the high pile, papers that looked like typical responses in the middle pile, and papers that raised concerns into the lowerpile.
In the high pile, we hoped to find “outstanding” examples that would rate a 6 and “good” ones that would rate a 5. On the chalkboard, we listed characteristics that put a paper into the top category: selecting a dramatic topic, using precise vocabulary, and creating sentence variety, to name a few.
“I think this might be a 5,” said Kathy. She read it to our tiny group and then argued for it: “It has more sophisticated sentence structure than we normally see. The vocabulary is strong, and the details paint a clear picture. I know it's not a `wow,' but it's clearly a 5.”
Our dialogue continued until we had models for each point and had annotated each piece with information for future reference. Each teacher in the group received copies of the models and annotations, and we've shared them with students and parents. We wanted everyone to have a clear understanding of how we look at student writing.
Spotlight on Students' Work
To our surprise, the models were just one benefit of this entire process. More important, we felt, were the discussion and negotiation that occurred that afternoon. In addition to learning about student writing, we valued the opportunity to talk to one another about the work we do. That sense of being a community of learners continued for the entire year.
- Can you find examples of precise vocabulary?
- Can you play a videotape in your head and see the action?
- Here is a paper written last year. You said it was a 3. Can you work with your group to make it a 4?
Questions like these help us to zero in on the elements that make writing come alive for the reader.
Parents have shown their support by attending evening workshops so that they, too, can learn to look at student work through a new lens. “This is not easy,” one mom wrote after a training session on rubrics. “However, I think that I can help my daughter better now.”
Teachers, students, parents—we are all focusing on real work to give us insights about learning. Sometimes, though, these insights make us uncomfortable. “I'm going to have to re-do mine,” Tom confided to me, “I just didn't know what good looked like!”
The portfolios that fill our crates and cabinets, and sometimes cover my dining room table, are no longer scrapbooks of completed assignments. Instead they are showcases for the best work a student can do. They allow young people, like Tom, a chance to reflect, revise, and re-start, if necessary, in order to paint a portrait of themselves as learners.
Portfolios also give me, the teacher, the same opportunity to reflect, revise, and re-start. I no longer look to publishers to tell me what to do next. My students show me the way.
