
9 minute read
The Long-Term Effects of Failure
can’t!—then they must empower students to be masters of their own learning. However, students receiving poor or failing marks on their work—and, by extension, their class grade—is only one piece of a bigger problem.
Unfortunately, a common method teachers use to avoid addressing student failure is to simply avoid giving failing grades at all costs. While the retakes and redos might help alleviate those failing grades, do they really support improvement in students’ process, products, and progress? One has to wonder if all of the retaking, redoing, and so on are merely steps taken to forego an administrative showdown. After all, if the student is failing, the inquiry begins with the teacher, not with the student.
Throughout my career, I often see this disturbing trend in grading. When students fail a graded assignment or an assessment, teachers simply allow a redo or retake. Although this gives students the opportunity to raise their grade, it raises an important question: In doing the redoing and retaking, how can teachers ensure students aren’t simply going through the motions to get a better grade by memorizing previous content without necessarily mastering the learning standards? To avoid this, teachers often write a new assessment for students to retake, or they might assign a new essay topic for students to write. These approaches require hours of work on teachers’ part, work that could be spent creating new process-focused learning opportunities or determining new scaffolds to support students through a setback or obstacle. Many teachers require students to be caught up with their homework before they are allowed a retake or a redo. This step can help ensure students take a more active part in overcoming a learning challenge, but does that get to the root of the question: How can teachers create opportunities where those redos or retakes are part of the learning process and not simply implemented as a way for students to play catchup with their learning?
Another route schools and teachers often take to avoid poor grades from showing up in a gradebook or report card is for teachers to meet with students before, during, or after school in individual conferences to help students make up or redo work. Many large districts have after-school tutoring labs where content-area teachers facilitate learning well into the dinner hour, Saturday classes when students can make up late work, or credit-recovery classes after school and in the summer in which students attend an abridged version of a course—often just a couple of weeks—to make up a quarter’s or semester’s worth of learning. Such efforts can be effective, but they often place the onus on teachers to get students to pass the class, abdicating students’ role in their own learning. Thus, the question remains: Are students truly mastering the learning, or are they merely regurgitating information that has barely been digested?
Or worse, are they succumbing to the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness that Feldman and colleagues (2017) describe?
Consider also that, while teachers might consider using after-school time for redos or retakes for students to complete at home, this can still be problematic for students who may not have the time or capacity for such measures. It’s not unusual for secondary-level students to be unable to do redos or complete those retakes because they are working a job (often for the sake of the household) or babysitting siblings while family members work two or three jobs. Nor do all elementary students have the supports at home to understand how to establish productive homework practices. After- or before-school supports or weekend interventions face similar hurdles if students are unable to attend, and teachers and schools should never require students to attend them as part of needed instruction. Therefore, it becomes even more important to support students in using a process-driven learning approach during classroom time that enables them to embrace and overcome academic setbacks.
None of this is to argue that ensuring students have multiple opportunities to show their learning or access teacher-provided supports is unnecessary or counterproductive. It’s not unusual or problematic for students to need and benefit from extra help from their teacher. I vividly remember needing extra support in science when I was in high school. In college, I attended study group sessions to help me better understand course content. Students getting a little extra help with a skill or knowledge item they’re struggling with isn’t the problem I present with the preceding scenarios. Rather, these scenarios reflect situations where redos and retakes become norms, and failure is submissively accepted or avoided altogether. These are scenarios in which more students end up requiring interventive measures than teachers can possibly hope to provide. Further, school- and teacher-provided supports can’t be stopgap measures in which the goal shifts from the learning process to simply getting a grade.
Instead, what if teachers built into school culture a not-yet attitude as an expected part of learning, an attitude where productive struggle during daily lessons is part of academic growth, and students can learn from and reflect on their learning process independently? The not-yet approach is all about designing and creating a classroom culture that encourages the learning process while accepting setbacks and obstacles as part of that process. The belief is that not yet means there is more to learn, more to assess, and more to reflect on. Often, the connotation of failure to students and parents is an end point. It isn’t. As veteran educator and author Robert Ward (2017) writes, educators should not focus on that end perception but “on the multiple little triumphs, enlightenments, and headways likely gained in the process.” This is the essence of the not-yet experience.
About This Book
I wrote this book for upper-elementary and secondary educators to take inspiration from the practical and research-backed ideas, suggestions, and reproducibles it offers and apply them in their own classrooms in ways that meet their students’ unique needs. Even if you’re an early elementary teacher (K–3), the flexibility is here to easily adapt and transition this book’s practices to your students.
To support you in learning about and applying the not-yet approach, I’ve divided it into two parts. Part 1 focuses on the foundations for this approach. Chapter 1 discusses failure and how deeply rooted it can be in students’ psyche—prohibiting even elementary-level students from valuing themselves as learners and risk takers. Chapter 2 examines the sometimes contentious relationship between engaging students in productive struggle and grading practices. I briefly describe the journey from traditional grading to standards-based grading to the gradeless classroom—a journey many teachers are experiencing, regardless of content area or grade level (Gonser, 2020). Chapter 3 then highlights three important aspects of the not-yet approach: (1) growth mindset (Dweck, 2016), (2) grit (Duckworth, 2016), and (3) abolitionist teaching (Love, 2019a). Chapter 4 illustrates how to write vigorous learning intentions and scaffolded success criteria that use setbacks and obstacles as part of learning.
With a foundation established for the not-yet approach, part 2 introduces and details eight lenses (core traits) of classrooms that reinforce a not-yet culture: (1) the practical classroom, (2) the transformational classroom, (3) the productive classroom, (4) the supportive classroom, (5) the flexible classroom, (6) the constructive classroom, (7) the connective classroom, and (8) the inclusive classroom. Chapter 5 shows how to modify your classroom language from a deficiency model to one focused on practical, not-yet language for learning success. Chapter 6 is about transforming your approach to instruction and grading based on feedback from students and their parents or guardians. Chapter 7 explains the importance of joy and creativity to a productive classroom. Chapter 8 clarifies the difference between providing students with necessary supports but not help when encouraging them to adopt a not-yet approach in a supportive classroom. Chapter 9 highlights the need for classrooms to be flexible, with appropriate attention given to reflection on teachers’ practice in a safe and encouraging environment. Chapter 10 details how teachers can maximize classroom time and space to be constructive and ensure every lesson offers students the best possible learning experience. Chapter 11 explains the importance of having a connected classroom built on collaboration with other teachers to ensure all students benefit from teachers’ collective knowledge and experience. Last, chapter 12 emphasizes the importance of inclusivity to classroom culture.
Chapters 4–12 also end with A Look Inside elements containing the reflections of many educators who have successfully defined, described, and demonstrated the not-yet approach. These scenarios serve as instructional models demonstrating how you can embed the not-yet approach into your teaching. Use their suggestions to further your own not-yet classroom or adopt and adapt their practices in ways that work best for you and your students.
To assist teachers in creating a classroom that encourages productive struggle, every chapter in this book offers detailed step-by-step instructions, concrete examples, strategies, and reproducible tools. As a classroom teacher, I have always appreciated these elements and have found that even if I don’t necessarily use the book’s offerings exactly, I am inspired to create my own based on what I have read. I hope you feel enthused to do the same. To that end, all chapters conclude with one or more reproducible pages, including a “Ruminate and Respond” reproducible designed for teachers to reflect on and journal about their actions and practices. I encourage you to take the time to pause and consider the process, progress, and products in your classroom. Not only should you use the questions for personal growth, I encourage you to apply them in broader settings—like in collaboration with other teachers on your team or in your department. Being reflective with other teachers is a critical part of your teaching practice; you grow when you learn from your peers and when you implement that growth for the sake of your students’ success (DuFour, DuFour, Eaker, Many, & Mattos, 2016).
Conclusion
The not-yet approach creates an authentic classroom experience where students value setbacks and obstacles as ways to grow, learn, and develop. Instead of allowing failure to define the student, the not-yet approach creates opportunities to normalize development and empowers students to realize learning takes time and that mastery isn’t the end of growth. The not-yet approach provides authentic classroom lenses that give teachers and students flexibility.
Note that, for the purposes of this book, I occasionally use the word failure, but most often, I concentrate on classrooms that utilize failure as an empowering opportunity to grow. The classroom themes that underpin each chapter topic in part 2 are meant to honor the not-yet approach and inspire student learning. Ultimately, Not Yet . . . And That’s OK: How Productive Struggle Fosters Student Learning celebrates the academic experience and all it has to offer both teachers and students. I encourage you to join together with your colleagues to move to a not-yet approach that better supports learning for all students!