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Depression

On Being Graded: Student Traits

Students rarely like being graded; some react better than others.

In my last blog, my wife suggested that I create a tongue-in-cheek typology of psychology faculty as graders. I did so. Well, what's sauce for the academic goose is also sauce for the gander: This time we consider students and how they behave when it comes to being evaluated by faculty members. Like Puck (from Midsummer Night's Dream, not The Real World), my goal here is not to offend but to inject a bit of humor into the end of the academic year. Here we go: Some students I and other teachers have known include:

The Compliance Officer. The CO earnestly believes that if every single part of an assignment is dutifully addressed (say, the term paper has the requisite 10 references, is double-spaced, and is 20 pages in length) then the only possible grade is a well-earned "A." The niggling problem, of course, is that mere compliance with required features does not an outstanding assignment make--there remain the small matters of the work's content, not to mention style, creativity, insight, as well as grammar, punctuation, and that old devil called proofreading. After class debates about adherence ("But you said right here in the syllabus, bullet point 2, that . . .") often ensue (see also, The Debater, below).

A subtype of the Compliance Officer is the Carl Rogers CO, someone who adeptly mirrors whatever the teacher says: "Ok, so, I hear you saying that you want the paper to cite references in APA style, is that right? And you also said it should cite specific research studies--Ok, ok, got that--and also, I heard you say the font should be 12 point and not Gothic . . ." Alas, the CRCO is sad to learn that while unconditional positive regard covers the student-faculty relationship, it is not necessarily extended to grading.

The Neurotic. The neurotic does very well on tests, papers, class discussion-you name it. Nothing is ever submitted late; indeed, it might be turned in early, and it is always well done. However, getting closer to fine is a rocky road, one paved with countless office visits, questions before and after class, worried emails, anxious looks, and whispered worries to peers ("He grades sooooo haaarrd!").

Dale Carnegie. DC is overly friendly, extremely solicitous, and wont to pepper the teacher with compliments ("You look well-rested today, Dr. Dunn, and I like that tie--pretty spiffy") at the same time he queries the instructor about how grading will be done. DC's work usually falls in the B-/C+ range-adequate, usually competent, but not very focused. Any excess energy is channeled into smiles, greetings, laugh-track laughter at the prof's jokes, and just being helpful ("Here, let me collect the papers for you, Dr. Dunn--it won't take a moment!"). If only DC took a page from Andrew Carnegie's playbook instead of trying to advance by charm alone.

The Student Scholar. The Student Scholar genuinely loves learning and welcomes constructive criticism so that she can improve in her knowledge and skills in the discipline. She expects no favors or breaks, and likely would turn any down if they were offered. The Student Scholar loves a challenge, livens up the classroom with her infectious curiosity, takes tests and papers seriously, and makes teaching a joy. Oh, and she rarely questions a grade (and usually doesn't need to).

The Serial Appointment Dropper. "Hey, Doc, I really need to see you about that [paper or test or quiz grade or college rule]. You totally didn't understand what I meant--if I explain it to you I think you'll see my point, know what I mean?. When are you around? I know you said your office hours are in the syllabus and all, but I sorta lost it---heh-heh-heh. How's Tuesday at 10am? Oh, and Dude, where's your office, anyway?" You guessed it--SAD never shows up.

The Sphinx. The Sphinx is ever-present in class but silent, even stoic. No question on any grade (or anything else) ever passes his lips. Grades (high, medium, or low) on tests, papers, and the like are received without comment. When this behavior occurs in a female student, she can be described as the Mona Lisa.

The Debater. To the Debater, truth is fluid and always negotiable and, "Hey, aren't grades ultimately subjective (wink, wink)?" The Debater will hound a teacher for as long as it takes to increase a disliked grade, even if it's only by a micron. There are several subtypes to contend with: The Lawyer treats the syllabus and any assignment rubric from a strict constructionist perspective ("But you said right HERE that . . ."). The Valedictorian will be quick to inform the faculty grader that "If I don't get an ‘A' in this class then I won't maintain my perfect 4.0--that's right, a Four-Point-O--all the other professors gave me high grades, so if you don't it must mean something is wrong with you, not me." The Legacy will mutter about not wanting to get his parents, a prominent trustee, the Dean, the Provost, or the College President involved about "this unfair grade--can't we work this out between us?"

Cry Foul. CF believes all grading is unfair, arbitrary, and ill conceived, and in any case, "I don't know what you want from me!" No syllabus is detailed enough to satisfy, no answers to questions are as helpful as they should be. Oh, and "Why do you assign so much reading? Who has time for that!? I'm here to learn, not to spend all my time working . . ."

Just Happy to be Here. JHTBH makes no waves. Doesn't mind being graded particularly, and isn't especially concerned about whether a test comes back with an "A" or a "C-"on it. Passing is just fine, thanks, and life is, after all, a journey.

These are some student types I have known, respected, taught, and even loved. To paraphrase JHTBH, college is a journey, and the learning that happens there must be evaluated--like it or not, fair or not--it's all part of the process. When done well, grading can reward, encourage, remind, transform, and yes, appropriately admonish.

Now, let's all take a collective breath and welcome the end of the semester--and the promise of summer.

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