When students returned to the classroom following the COVID-19 lockdowns and online learning, I was acutely aware of the anxiety that many students were feeling. I revamped my entire practice, integrating new social-emotional strategies like morning check-ins and flexible due dates. Instead of pushing kids to learn, I endeavored to pull them into learning – to learn for the sake of learning. 

While this new approach proved transformative for many, it also presented challenges. Some students, perhaps accustomed to the flexibility of social-emotional practices, took advantage of the relaxed deadlines and modified expectations. 

It was annoying, but I totally get it. In a secondary school environment with multiple teachers and multiple expectations, students often find themselves navigating a complex landscape of assignments, deadlines, and varying levels of academic rigor. In such a setting where no single teacher is monitoring their overall workload, students may naturally gravitate towards the path of least resistance as a means of coping with the demands placed upon them. This behavior is driven by the instinct to manage time and energy efficiently, especially when facing competing priorities. As a result, students may choose less challenging or time-consuming behaviors, even if they don’t align with their overall educational goals. This approach allows them to meet immediate requirements without the perceived burden of more rigorous tasks. 

So, recently I decided to revisit some of the teaching and assessment strategies that I had left behind.

Here’s how it happened: my seventh graders were exploring the Mongol Empire. We were focusing on the empire’s succession problems that occurred after the death of Genghis Khan. From there we were going to connect to the modern concept of the succession plans of nations and organizations. 

One of my students pointed out a problem in my lesson structure: if we were exploring the Mongol Empire as a springboard to connect to succession planning today, couldn’t he simply focus his efforts on the end goal and ignore the actual context (the Mongols)? 

In other words, if I wasn’t assessing students about the Mongols, then why would a student bother reading our class materials for this topic? I was inadvertently making my course content – the context for our exploration of modern ideas – pointless. Literally: pointless. There was no graded assessment of our work exploring the past.

This lack of graded assessment was intentional. I’ve never been a fan of rote-memorization or comprehension-style quizzes, where students are forced to prove that they read class materials. To me, that isn’t intrinsic motivation – it’s more like compulsion – I would be compelling students to learn, rather than captivating them.

This belief of mine was reflected in a social media post of a teacher I began following during the COVID-19 lockdowns and online learning. Soon after kids began returning to the classroom, he Tweeted a photo of this anchor chart he used in his classroom:

Yes, I know there’s a chance that you won’t do the practice work. There are no points and no penalties.

But, there is also a chance that you will do it. 

And that is the bigger point. Learning is a commitment that begins with choice.

Choose to learn. For you.

While my exploratory process wasn’t graded, students were still expected to access the materials I provided. They demonstrated their knowledge and understanding in daily round-circle discussions and debates. My assumption was that students would intrinsically move through the resources I provided to prep themselves for these discussions. I also worked hard to hook my students by spicing up my readings with interesting and high-engagement ideas: romance, technology, cannibalism, royal intrigue, or mind-blowing psychological concepts.

But, participation in a discussion alone wasn’t enough. I came to understand that too many students were doing the bare minimum and either providing generic comments in the discussions, or simply waiting until another classmate stepped up to provide a response.

So, at the conclusion of one of our most recent explorations into the past, I had students write a content quiz. It was deliberately built for one purpose: to check that they had done the readings.

I hated the idea of it. There was no analysis or evaluation at all. Students weren’t being challenged to apply new knowledge in a novel situation. I was purely checking up on them.  

The results were not surprising. The students who were most active in our discussions aced the quiz. And, the kids who were phoning it in did not. 

My plan is to build in periodic checks in all my classes moving forward. While I feel like it’s still important to be mindful of the social-emotional needs of my students, I still need to include rigorous expectations in my program. 

Emphasizing academic rigor in the classroom does not negate the importance of meeting students’ social-emotional needs. On the contrary, it serves as a powerful complement to fostering a holistic and enriching learning environment. Rigor, when thoughtfully integrated, signifies a commitment to setting high expectations and challenging students to reach their full potential. The pursuit of rigor fosters resilience, critical thinking, and a love for learning. By maintaining high expectations, we can nurture the emotional well-being of students and prepare them for the demands of the future.

Ed X!