Why not? They grade us, why can’t we grade them?
Grades are a reflection of a student’s work, progress and achievement-- they’re a way of providing students guidance about future course work— a form of feedback to “motivate” students. If grading is as efficient as they claim it is and makes us, students, “better”, lets reciprocate; lets return teachers their own favor and give them grades to make them better as well! After all, one never stops learning right? Teachers classify students among themselves, as being either “good”, “bad” or “mediocre”— they’re not the only ones. we classify you teachers too, and some of you are not meeting our expectations. Policy makers on both sides of the aisle haven’t yet emboldened enough to state the obvious; they remain oblivious to the truth: there are some bad teachers in our school. I’ve actually had about five I can list from the top of my head . Last year, this one teacher’s class I’d actually call “free period”— it was that inefficient. No one learned, yet still no one complained. After all, you could walk up to him, have him “check” your work again, without having made any corrections after the last time he’d given you feedback, insist, no, not even that, just plainly say you made the changes and BOOM, grade raised. Those of you who were in this teacher’s class, you know who I’m talking about. A study by Stanford University economist, Eric Hanushek, found that the difference between a child being assigned to one teacher or another can make a difference of as much as a grade level’s worth of learning during the school year. This idea of giving your teacher a grade, is majorly for feedback; to ensure students are getting a high quality education. This new system could start out as an online anonymous survey at the middle of the school year, where students rate their professors from 1 to 5 in the categories of clarity, helpfulness, popularity, and easiness— a comment box could be added. All responses should be accessible to the principal (not the teachers) including the person who took the survey’s name. This would prevent nasty and disrespectful comments, students grading their teacher higher with hopes of getting a better grade and students that graded poorly being treated differently. Leila Campbell, a humanities teacher at Charter High School in Oakland, California, had received her results from a recent survey. She discovered her difficulty connecting with students. Since then, Ms. Campbell adjusted her classroom manner, resulting in an evident improvement. “The surveys have been transformational in how I operate, I’ve grown tremendously from this data”, she claimed. It’s a revolutionary idea, like Ronal Ferguson, an economist at Harvard, claimed. No one is more qualified to evaluate teachers’ work, than the people who see them every day—their students.
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Footsteps got louder and creaked closer behind me; convinced it was a hallucination, I kept my pace. Heavy footsteps sped up. I turned into the road half jogging to get away. Just when I decided it was a figment of my imagination, two mammoth hands clasped me from behind, pulling me towards a strong, towering body. I couldn’t think straight—quivering unremittingly, panic took over my body. With my hands bound together, what could I do? Scream. But when I tried, nothing came out; not one sole note. No matter how hard I struggled, how hard I kicked or how hard I screamed, no one noticed. And then I woke up.
You think I’m making this up right? How could I possibly remember such details when it’s rare enough to remember a dream itself! I guess it’s easier when it’s what you’ve woken up to multiple times a week for the past month or so. For some reason the context and setting always vary— I might be escaping someone, running from someplace, or undergoing an open heart surgery where the anaesthesia didn’t work; but in every single one of these dreams, no sound comes out when I scream; in all of these I’m overwhelmed by a sense of what I can only call… loneliness. Does this mean something? Is it my subconscious trying to reach me? Am I being oblivious? Probably. It may indicate my sense of frustration and helplessness; that feeling that no matter how hard I try, no one will ever really and truly hear me. It may also be suggesting that I’m currently holding back some true feelings or expression because I don’t actually want someone to hear, because I don’t want to need help. So even though my insides are screaming, as cheesy as it sounds, for someone to save me, I’m acting in waking life as if all is fine. But why am I feeling this way? These dreams are not telling me enough! When exactly is it I feel like this? Why? Two weeks ago, I had another nightmare, completely different, yet still relatable. The doctor diagnosed me with terminal cancer; I’d still have to undergo chemotherapy and thirteen different surgeries (I know, my dreams are somewhat tragic). I wasn’t planning on telling anyone, but at school I couldn’t hold it in any longer and confided in a friend (I’ll keep names anonymous). She actually laughed, right at my face— I know right? Mean child of God. Before I could stop her, without hesitation she whispered in another friend’s ear what I just intimately confessed, as if it was another piece of gossip to talk about. Then they both laughed. The dream went on and on following this same course. It’s almost self-explanatory, at least for me. I have an amazing group of friends, all different yet still equally as great. For reasons unknown, I still don’t have this one friend to fully and completely trust in, to hold my back no matter what, to be there for me when I most need it and most importantly, to genuinely care. Actually, I’m lying; I do know why I can’t find this 'one friend'. I guess I’ve always known but have tried to deny it for as long as I can remember. I guess it’s always been my fault. I think it all comes down to trust. I’m very, very, very reserved as to whom I can confide in; It's as if I don’t feel, I don’t know… safe or comfortable, telling my issues or whatever, to others. Why would someone else want to hear about what’s going on with me? They have their own things to worry about. They’ll probably think I’m a burden; that I’m trying to call attention? Or maybe they’ll judge, or gossip. I don’t know. What I do know is that I’ve taken the first step towards mending these loathsome sensations--recognising my problem—at least it’s a start. |
Daniela Ontaneda16 year old Junior at Colegio Franklin Delano Roosevelt who's taking the IB diploma program. Archives
August 2017
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Future Blog Posts:
-Free to Learn by Peter Gray reflection
- If you could change someone's life - If you could change one thing about yourself - Should students be allowed to grade their teacher - What happens after death? - Are precognitions and deja vu different? - Mysteries of the mind - Mentalism - The positive of experiencing pain - What is existentialism -Impact of media on society |