By Mark
The first week of school as I introduced a vocabulary unit to my seniors, I sparked a conversation that inadvertenly revealed the attitudes toward education we have bred into our students.
I was talking to the students about the upcoming vocabulary unit, and asked them to put themselves in the teacher's shoes: what kind of assessment would be best to prove to the teacher that the students really understood the words.
At first, the answers were disheartening: make us match words with definitions, make us do a multiple choice test where we pick the word to fit the given definition. Then I posed this to them: what good is that kind of test?
Their reply: it shows we've memorized the definition.
And my reply: "What good is that?"
Their return: it shows we know what the word means.
And I asked, "Does it really?"
What followed was a rather passionate discussion about the whole purpose of learning and assessment. What good is memorizing a definition if you cannot use the word? It is so simple to me. They were very frank about their perception that for a decade, the study of vocabulary was really only about memorization and passing a test–and a few expanded this out to actually critique how so much of what they were asked to do was simple re-presentation of canned knowledge rather than actual application or thinking. And, I accidently tipped my teacher hand and admitted that a big reason why matching and multiple choice tests are used for this is that they are faster to grade than if the teacher had to read and decode the sentences to interpret whether the learning had occured–in this case, perceived efficiency too often won out over effectiveness.
A few kids got it, of course, and by the end of our discussion, even if they didn't agree with what I had said, students walked out understanding why I was not satisfied with matching or multiple choice assessment and why my assessment of their vocabulary knowledge would require them to demonstrate their ability to recognize the word in proper context (reading application) and their ability to use the word in proper context (writing application).
That discussion, though, illuminated two things to me: First, how much of a gulf there may be between what some students expect from their education and what some teachers expect from their students. Second, it illuminated to me the dangers of "efficiency." If I can have kids match words to meanings and then claim they "know" the assigned vocabulary, then I can claim to have achieved the goal efficiently. If that efficiency doesn't result in functional knowledge, I contend that this perceived efficiency is merely a mask for time horribly wasted.
I suppose this should not come as a surprise when our focus is on testing rather than actually assessing–which have diverged into two distinctly disparate concepts in my mind and in my practice. Testing, to me, now carries the connotation of hoop jumping and regurgitation. Conversely, assessment is the evaluation of an applied skill that aims higher on the critical thinking scale. These are my personal definitions, of course, so I'm not intending to propose How It Is.
In my rant about why I would not be giving rote-memorization tests about vocab to my students, I explained that knowing is simply not enough. I know how to run a marathon–I've actually read a great deal about training, nutrition, the physiology involved from muscle recovery to energy pathways, and layers upon layers of detail. This does not mean I can run a marathon. That knowledge, unless I apply it, is not functional. Alongside that analogy, I explained to my students that simply "knowing what a word means" is a useless waste of time unless they can do something with that knowledge. To which one student replied that they would be "doing" something: they'd be matching the meanings on a test. Luckily, a few of his classmates were quick to point out that wasn't what I meant.
I told my students that I wanted them to be "do-ers," not just "know-ers." I told them it would mean more work for them and more work for me, but that it was work worth doing. Unfortunately, I think our system has made us build kites instead of planes, just so we can say we've achieved flight.
I know this is an issue bigger and older than our test-obsessed present, but I rail against it every school year nonetheless. I've managed to hold my line for almost ten years so far. I used to think that all other teachers were like me: pushing for higher degrees of real understanding rather than being satisfied with simple regurgitation of information. I'm sad to say that doubt is now beginning to creep in. Pressures to "produce" have perhaps led to increased efficiency with the peculiar side-effect of decreased effectiveness.
I hope my resolve will hold as I face a culture which seems to perpetuate a focus not just on superficial "knowing" but, even worse, on only being a "know-er" long enough to pass the test.
@Mike: I don’t mean that being a do-er is a characteristic in place of being a know-er. If you start as a know-er and become a do-er, then that potential is maximized. If you “do” without the requisite knowledge, then the doing lacks effectiveness.
As for knowing the meaning of the word–okay, perhaps useful for trivia or crossword puzzles. Even the act of reading a word in context and understanding its denotation and connotation is a “do-er” activity that goes beyond mere “knowing.” I’ve had many students who can tell me what a word means (from a memorized definition) but who cannot from that memorized definition understand what that word means within a sentence…and when I see that, I recognize I have more work to do as that student’s teacher to make his/her understanding deep enough to serve a function in their lives beyond the trivia.
Ask yourself why being a “do-er” is better than being a “know-er”. I’m thinking of engineers,
marathon runners, teachers, software developers,Etc. I assess students on vocabulary the way you do. But, there is something to be said for knowing What a word means even if you can’t really use it in a sentence.
DrPezz, I do think that matching has a place in the continuum… but it shouldn’t be the end. The fact that you have the kids use the new words in their writing is what is important and what I support and would advocate for as well.
@Kristin, the class size connection wasn’t my intention, but it certainly fits. If we think about it, there is the perception of efficiency involved in cramming more kids into a classroom, but in reality, as we know from experience (regardless for what some bogus research with a minuscule sample size might say) smaller class size increases effectiveness even if it “looks” less efficient in the factory model.
I must admit that I do have my students spell and match words to definitions, but for me it’s a way to figure out where in the cognitive processes a students is since my students also have to use the words in sentences correctly as well. However, I make the most headway when requiring the vocabulary words be used in their writing. This makes the most sense to me out of any exercise we perform.
I agree about the transparency… it is kind of like a few years ago when my freshmen were astonished to learn that I actually “plan” lessons to go the way they do…and that it doesn’t just “happen.” I’m getting better at communicating more clearly exactly what I want my students to do, but more importantly WHY I want them to do what I ask them to do. I tell them to always ask me “why” if I don’t automatically tell them–I will always have a reason for what I do, and if I can’t give them a good reason, they don’t have to do it (bold promise, but I believe in it.)
This whole issue makes me think of the argument over class size.
When I’m with my daughters at the zoo, we can take our time and discuss penguin behavior. Then we can go home and learn a little more, draw some pictures, do some research, look at a map. That’s me, and two children, and a whole day.
At school, it’s me, and 32 children, and fifty minutes. I don’t have total freedom to pursue content that they’re attracted to, and even if I did 32 kids have 32 different ideas of what’s interesting.
Smaller class sizes would give teachers a little more leverage to go deeper with content instead of staying on the surface, using efficient methods just to survive and have some sort of evidence that they’re assessing.
What’s interesting to me is that we’re so often held up against countries whose kids assess well because of drill and kill memorization, and we’re told to perform as well as they do.
I wonder if anyone’s traveled to China and asked students to “explain place value” with words.
Intriguing post. I had a similar experience these last two weeks with my third graders. I have them write the learning targets for each lesson in their notebooks first thing in the morning, and then at the close of each lesson they have to write a response that shows they’ve hit the target. One of the targets last week was “explain place value.” Many of them wanted to just write a number and tell which digit represent ones, ten and hundreds. I told them they could use an example after they “explained place value” but that they needed to “explain place value” with words first.
I think the more we make education transparent to our students, the more they’ll understand their role in the process, and eventually, the more they’ll learn.