I have spent a lot of time in my MALXD graduate program exploring the importance of assessment data. I can tell you all the reasons why it is a valuable tool for providing feedback, evaluating our teaching, and informing curriculum. Data and assessment certainly go together, but for me, putting it all into practice has been a different story. It is much easier to theorize than it is to escape the gravitational pull of the single-number grade.
My default summative test has been a 20-question multiple-choice quiz. It is fast, easy to grade, and gives me a clear percentage. But what does that number tell me about a student’s understanding?
Recently, I designed a final assessment that would give me more than a single data point. I wanted to create something that would help me understand how my 6th-grade students are engaging with their learning. The result was a group-based research project using EdPuzzle.
My previous practice would have ended the assessment process by scoring the group’s final project with a rubric and calling it a day. But the EdPuzzle project is different. It provides a three-part picture of student learning:
- Summative Rubric Scores: The traditional data, giving me a sense of the final product’s quality. For this assessment, I chose to implement a single-point rubric, as it forces me to provide specific, written feedback, rather than just a number, and it creates space for students to grow as individuals and take ownership of their learning (Hashem 2017).
- EdPuzzle Analytics: Real-time, formative data on how the other students in the class responded to the embedded questions. This gives me a unique window into individual student comprehension.
- Observational Notes: My notes on how students interacted with one another and participated in the group.
It is this last data point that feels the most valuable. In my previous system, a lack of engagement would have resulted in a low participation grade. But with this new approach, I am learning to use that information not as a punishment, but as a starting point for a conversation.
Imagine a student in a group whose final project is excellent, but my observational notes show they were not participating. Instead of simply handing them a low grade, my first step is to meet with them privately to review my notes. I would explain that my notes reflect their low engagement and then stop. I would give the student plenty of wait time to answer, creating a space for them to open up. Ideally, they would share that they either did not understand the material or that there was some other underlying reason for their disengagement.
This moment is where the data becomes a tool for connection and guidance. It is an approach that echoes Alfie Kohn’s (2011) ungrading philosophy where the focus shifts to student-led conversations about learning. I can then empower that student to take ownership of their learning. It is a decisive moment to ask them, “Based on your participation and the group’s grade, what do you think you deserve for this project?” This allows the student to reflect on their learning and take accountability without the crushing defeat of simply earning a low grade.
This is what growth looks like. It is not just a letter grade at the end of a marking period; it is a student who takes responsibility for their earned grade. It might mean they decide to complete a separate analysis to prove their understanding. More importantly, on our next assignment, that same student will hopefully show increased engagement by having conversations with their peers or asking questions of me.
My big takeaway from designing this assessment is that assessment data is so much more than a number. Formative data can be just as valuable as summative data, and the most important data I can collect is the kind that helps me see my students as individuals. The actuality of putting this into practice is ongoing, but I am moving beyond just grading.
References
Hashem, D. (2017, October 24). 6 reasons to try a single-point rubric. Edutopia.
Kohn, A. (2011). The case against grades. Alfie Kohn.