Formative Assessment
It is fitting the phrase “lies, damned lies, and statistics” has an uncertain origin. Although popularly attributed to Disraeli, primarily because Mark Twain said so, a simple Google search returns a number of web pages that do a good job of casting doubt on him being the first to coin the phrase.
Speaking of statistics, in my previous life as a business planning, forecasting and analysis manager within a multi-billion dollar company, I was frequently amazed at how many otherwise very sharp individuals would take “data” at the asserted face value without really questioning how it was calculated or arrived at. One might say it’d be “common sense” to at least try to understand the assumptions and definitions used in a given metric.
However, even “common sense” can be wrong. Take, for example, the Monty Hall Problem. As described in Marilyn vos Savant’s Ask Marilyn column in Parade Magazine:
Suppose you’re on a game show, and you’re given the choice of three doors: Behind one door is a car; behind the others, goats. You pick a door, say No. 1, and the host, who knows what’s behind the doors, opens another door, say No. 3, which he knows has a goat. He then says to you, “Do you want to pick door No. 2?” Is it to your advantage to switch your choice?
The “common sense” response by most people is that it shouldn’t matter which of the two remaining doors you choose, the odds are going to be 50/50 either way, right?
Wrong.
The correct answer is you should switch your choice. When you do, the mathematical odds increase from the 1 in 3 of your original selection to 2 in 3. For a complete explanation of why, take a look at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Hall_problem.
It might seem I am making an argument against the use of statistics, but nothing of the sort. The point of all of the above is to illustrate why I think teachers should stop and think for a while about the assumptions we make when it comes to understanding and articulating student performance in our classrooms. I hope to convince you, if you haven’t already, to spend some time validating the measurements you use on a daily basis.
For example, can you define with any sort of precision the difference between an intermediate and advanced student, or whatever equivalent in your level system? How do you measure progress over time? What does it mean when a student has difficulty spelling? Or consistently doesn’t pay attention in class? If two students get the same score on a test, even the same pattern of answers, can you safely assume they’re at the same point of achievement? For that matter, when you do an assessment, what are you actually testing? Do you know the necessary learning outcomes for your students in their contexts? And how do you get there? Do you know the learning styles of your students well enough to meaningfully personalize instruction? How much time do you spend observing and noting the performance of your students as they are engaged in the process of learning?
Summative assessment can be defined as measurements of outcome. Formative assessment, on the other hand, involves creating a framework to understand the journeys of students towards given outcomes in real-time so that meaningful “mid-course” corrections can be made. I believe that continuous formative assessment is one of the key responsibilities of teachers. I also think it’s something not as well understood as it needs to be.
In order to successfully do effective formative assessment, you have to be able to articulate actionable definitions for different kinds of observable behavior related to “how” and “why” individual learners react and perform as they do in different situations, individually or collectively.
A good deal of research has been done into how the brain learns. What that research shows is that within the overall neural structure of the brain there are three primary learning networks: recognition, strategic and affective. “Recognition” is the “what,” “strategic” is the “how,” and “affective” is the “why.” Although the three systems work together, to what degree for each varies within each individual. It’s like a fingerprint, no two are the same. (A very good discussion of how the brain learns can be found here.)
And therein lies the rub of teaching as a profession, both the beauty and the challenge of the field. It’s never truly the same for different learners, even if on the surface it appears to be, because if you drill down far enough you quickly discover that every learner is in fact unique.