in which the teacher struggles

As a brand-new teacher, I'd like to think that a small part of my educational philosophy goes something like this: "To encourage young minds in the skills of critical thinking, analysis, and persuasion." I truly do want to see my students think on their feet and defend their own positions on topics as varied as they are.

I just cannot, for the life of me, figure out how to grade essays in which the argument is based on flawed logic.

I have a particular student in mind: one of those pensive, quiet thinkers who doesn't say much until questioned and then you realize they've absorbed every word you've said. He's a sensitive young teenager with an uncommon sense of right and wrong. This kid is so black-and-white, I feel like 8 shades of gray, pale next to his resoluteness.

He wrote an essay this week on the topic of homosexuality and gay marriage. He fulfilled all the requirements of the essay: length, format, proper sources; he took a position and he argued it, which is exactly what I asked for. God love him, that's a tough topic for most, not least of all, such a young student. I truly admire his pluck.

It's just that the majority of the argument was ineffective; based on assumption, not fact. His suggested solutions were improbable. While I respect him and the topic he's trying to tackle, I have to strike a balance of feedback somewhere between "That's absurd" and "Good for you for making the attempt."

[In a brief but requisite disclaimer: this has nothing to do with his views on the topic, and everything to do with the logic he uses to argue his position.]

CALLING ALL TEACHERS: How do I continue to fulfill my educational philosophy and support this student with enormous potential while, at the same time, pushing him towards a higher level of analysis? How do I encourage him truthfully without crushing his spirit? (because crush I most certainly could.)

At Wheaton, my English profs would have written me a brief but gut-punching marginal comment and I would have reworked my argument by returning to commentaries by accomplished scholars, borrowing logic, and developing a critical but compelling argument of my own. But this is high school. He's 14.

I'm in over my head here. Help.

cheaters never prosper

...unless they're in government.

(Just kidding. Today's political humor brought to you by an American not living in America.)

I assigned essays to four classes over Easter Break. I know, I know, who gives homework before a holiday? But knowing these students, they need the extra time to do the research and writing process. A full week with no class seemed like a good opportunity. Besides, it was only a rough draft due when they returned from break.

Then a student who ordinarily struggles to put together a complete sentence produced a 3-page, single-spaced persuasive essay on the causes and solutions of air pollution.

WARNING DANGER RED ALERT

Hello, plagiarism.

I started typing in words and phrases into a Google search, and up popped the Wikipedia article. Directly copy and pasted. He didn't even bother with an introduction. Or a conclusion, for that matter. He literally stopped at the end of the third page, even though he was in the middle of an argument against gas engines. I took my highlighter to every word that was not his own.

Then I did the same with the next paper. And the next. And the next. 10 essays later, I was disappointed and frustrated. And a little bit stupefied that these kids actually thought they could pull one over on ol' teach here. I mean, two of them copied from each other. How dumb do they think I am?

Then again, that's not a fair rhetorical question. The better question is: how lazy are they? They had 11 days to type a 2-page double-spaced essay with two sources, neither of which could be Wikipedia. (They were astonished by the concept of reliable and unreliable resources.) It wasn't even a final draft! Only a rough draft!

Thus, their copying directly from Wikipedia told me that they were lacking in motivation. And I was determined to give it to them.

The next day, I passed back the 16 essays, 10 of which had yellow highlighter markings. I asked everyone who turned in an essay to stand up. Then I asked everyone who didn't have any highlighter to sit down. They totally bought it. They thought it was a game. While I theoretically cannot condone the shaming of a child, I spoke directly to the standing students and gave them a speech that went something like this:
"You're standing because the words in your essay aren't yours. They are someone else's and you copy-and-pasted them and put your name at the top. If I wanted to read what someone else thinks about these environmental issues, I would have gone out to Wikipedia, or GoogleNews, or CNN or BBC and read their articles. I want to know what YOU think. I care what YOU think. I want to hear YOUR ideas for solutions."

I then cautioned the entire class: anything highlighted must be deleted from the essay. For 5 students, this meant starting completely over. They have the rest of the week and the weekend to produce a final draft. If there's any further plagiarism, they'll receive a zero.

This sort of situation brings up some real issues for me in regards to standards of excellence here in Nigeria. Cheating, excuses, copying, missing work, late work, laziness: some teachers just smile and shake their heads, but I can't do that.

If you ask my Grade 6 for my test-taking mantra, they'll chant for you: "Talking = Cheating = Failing." If you ask my Grade 12 for my late work policy, they will tell you: "No late work. If it's late, it's a zero."

I know I'm the only high school teacher with a late work policy, but I can't compromise. These students can be held to a high standard. I agree I must make reasonable expectations for them, but expecting them to turn in work when it's due is not unreasonable.

Because we're starting the last quarter of the school year, I gave my students the following pledge:
No more zeroes. I will make sure of it. I will push you until you bleed. [The boys grunted their approval.] I will push you until you cry. I will push you until you hate me. [One girl in the back cried out, "We could never hate you, Miss Thomas!"] You will not fail my class this term. Cue the inspirational music...

But so help me, if those final drafts are plagiarized, I'm going to be handing out big fat zeroes, whether I want to or not.

On Being Miss Thomas

When I consider my girlhood aspirations, which included being a ballerina/singer and owning a pony, becoming a teacher was not among them. Indeed, I spent 5 years of my life ensuring everyone that while I majored in English, I had no intention of teaching. It is laughable how mistaken I have proved myself to be.

Now that I find myself in the throes of lesson planning, classroom management, and grading, I have developed a deep appreciation and respect for my teachers from elementary school to college. It is a hard job. It's hard to stand in front of a classroom of--count them--24 6th-graders and command their attention. It's hard to force a discussion on Navajo Origin Myths with 4 11th-graders. It's hard to know what to do when the Nigerian 7th-graders turn against the American and British 7th-graders.

The toughest part of my job isn't actually interacting with my students. It's grading them. I knew coming into this that some of my students would have a better command of English than others. I just didn't expect there to be such a disparity between the ones that do and the ones that don't. In one class, I have a Nigerian child who can't spell "doesn't," another who began learning English in 2008, and another who daydreams in class because he can't follow along in the textbook when we read aloud.

At ICS, we practice differentiation, which basically means that we grade subjectively based on a child's English proficiency. As the English Literature teacher, I feel this pressure most profoundly. Differentiation doesn't mean playing favorites; it means grading a student based on what they know, and depending on the class, up to half of the students are differentiated in my gradebook. Out of 59 students in my 5 classes, up to 30 of them are graded on an individual basis. That's a lot of extra work, but mostly, just extra thought.

I so badly want to see my students succeed. I want to be Miss Thompson from that story "3 Letters from Teddy" in Chicken Soup for the Soul. I want to believe in my students until they believe in themselves. I want to champion in them a love of literature.

But the grades are in on the first round of tests, and it's not looking good. I won't curve and I won't give pluses or minuses. My grading is straightforward, but apparently my test questions are not. After reviewing a particular question on the 10th grade test, I decided to throw it out. Doing so, I learned afterwards, made the difference between a D and C for one of my students. I cannot express the delirious relief I felt when I changed his grade.

I know I'm a new teacher, but in the reading and research I've done, I've come to see that the responsibility for learning rests 100% on me as a teacher (and 100% on them as students, but that's another topic for another time). Based on that principle, a test is a reflection of me, the teacher, and my ability to make my students learn, so I feel the pinch and pain of every D.

I want to make sure my students see that literature can be fun. I'm contemplating a partial overhaul of some parts of my curriculum to allow for a week of supervised fun reading culminating in a book report. I want my kids to love reading as much as I did when I was a kid. Now that I'm teaching, I realize just how much I really do love literature. After 17 years of education and forced reading and college classes and the English major, I'd forgotten. Literature is my passion. I can't imagine teaching anything else.