Running on fumes

I'm so god damned tired.

And this time next week, 8:30 on Wednesday night, I'll probably be bored. I finished grading those portfolios finally today at 2:05pm. I would have been done last night, except Travis "forgot" to turn his in until I called his mom yesterday.

This is the first year I've been teaching that not one single student of mine earned an F in English. I don't take credit for that. Every year I agonize over grades. Does it really make that much of a difference whether or not someone earns an F or a D-?

When I was in high school, I struggled with Spanish. I took it in 9th grade, flunked, and had to take it again in 10th. Took the second year of Spanish in 11th grade, flunked, and had to take it over in my senior year. I worked, but just couldn't get it. There were only two of us in 12th grade in Mr. Ochi's 6th period class.

Well, the final exam of the year came around, and my passing the class rested on my doing well. Actually, my getting into UCSB rested partially on my passing Spanish. Seniors got to take the final early because of all the senior activities and such. Donna Jones and I took the final, and at lunchtime that day, went in to see Mr. Ochi. Donna got a B. When he looked at me, with pity in his eyes, I knew what was coming. I'm sure I teared up before he even showed me the D in the gradebook. I was full on weeping at that point. I knew, right then, that I wasn't going to make it, that I'd have to go to City College, and that my brother Danny was never going to let me live it down.

However, that didn't happen. Mr. Ochi, who was strict, and unbending, patted me awkwardly on the shoulder and told me, "Now, now, Senorita S-, I also grade on effort (which had never been true before, but who was I to argue?). You are going to pass this class." Then he showed me the C he had written in the final class grade for me.

Another teacher, Mr. Geary, let me take History as an independent study class. In one semester, I wrote one research report and I got an A. I didn't deserve it.

At UCSB, I had to take at least two science classes. I was an English major. Science classes had labs and met at 8 in the morning. I struggled in Physical Geology. I got an F on the first midterm. I stayed in the class, instead of dropping it. I earned a D on the second midterm. I switched my grading choice to "pass/no pass" and stopped going to class. I knew I wouldn't pass, but it wouldn't show up on my gradepoint average. I would take it again the next quarter.

But, wonder of wonders, when I received my report card that spring, I had a "pass" grade in the class! Of course, there had been some mistake; I hadn't even taken the final. Did I say anything? No. For years I thought that the registrar's office was going to contact me and tell me I hadn't really graduated, because I hadn't really finished that class. That I was going to have to give back my diploma. Nope. I got away with it.

That report card was almost 20 years ago. I think I'm safe now (if they took my Bachelor's away, do you think they'd take my Master's too?). My point is that I didn't always get the grade I really deserved. If I had, I might not be doing what I do now. Did my poor grades demonstrate my inability at success? Did they prove I wasn't proficient at becoming responsible? Did they show whether I learned more than what I could memorize?

No.

I used to agonize over grades much more than I do now. If a student has a 35% in my class, it's a pretty obvious problem. The ones that I used to have such a hard time with, were the 55% students. The ones that almost got it. That's where Mr. Ochi comes in. He said he graded on effort. That's key. And effort isn't something one can measure on a test. However, it is something a teacher should know about each student.

Every student I have this year, tried. Some were more organized than others, some procrastinated more than others, but they all tried.

It was a good year.

But, I really am tired.