--------------------------------------
What happened when I stopped returning tests
-Ken Rideout
Years ago, I used to cobble tests together anew each year. I had some question banks provided by various companies to draw from. I wrote some from scratch. I “borrowed” some from other physics teachers. It was fine. Kids learned physics; the tests sorted them into A’s, B’s, and C’s.
These tests, however, were never satisfying to me. Sometimes I would miscalculate the time it would take the students to complete it, or I would underestimate the subtle difficulties of a new problem I had just written. As a result, it was not unusual for me to have to scale a test by as much as 20%. Other times, I realized too late that the test was heavily geared towards certain topics in the unit and didn’t reflect other topics that we had spent an entire day or two on simply because certain types of questions are easier to write or are easier to find in test banks.
Here’s a specific example: Good questions about Newton’s third law are really hard to come by. Almost all test bank questions related to Newton’s third law involve simply being able to recite the words. I happen to think Newton’s third law is a subtle, powerful principle of how the universe works, and I spend a fair amount of time in class unpacking it and exploring the misconceptions around it. So, of course, I tried my hand at writing a test question that would reflect these subtleties. The first couple of attempts were pretty terrible. Students asked for clarification during the test (“What are you looking for here? What do you mean?”). Students answered the open-response question in such a way that made it very hard for me to grade. Eventually, the question evolved into a multiple-choice question and, after a few more years of refinements, I now have a really strong question that precisely gets at the underlying concept that we spend so much time on in class. Recalling and citing examples used in class is a great first step, but a true testimony to a student’s abiding understanding of fundamental issues only comes by applying them to novel situations. The student that gets this question right has demonstrated this deeper level of understanding.
Upon self-reflection, it’s clear that the kind of test question evolution described above only came about after I stopped returning tests. If teachers return tests and allow the students to keep them, they may circulate in the community and wind up in the hands of future generations of students. I have seen previous years’ tests spill out of a current student’s folder (an older sibling’s name on the papers). I have had students ask me to go over specific questions during review that sound exactly like last year’s test question. I would never have taken the time to refine that Newton’s third law question year after year if I knew that it would just devolve into a memorized, recall-style answer for the students.
Some surprising things happened along the way once I started to have these authentic, customized, highly evolved tests: I started changing my exposition of Newton’s third law in class from “There will be a question on Newton’s third law on the test” to “There will be a question where you will have to differentiate equal and opposite forces that happen to cancel out from equal and opposite action-reaction forces.” Also, when returning the tests and asking “Any questions?”, I now get a deluge of questions because the students know that this is their best window of opportunity to clarify their mistakes as I will be collecting their tests at the end of the block. Previously, they would toss the test in their backpack or folder and promise themselves they would look at it “later” – the test review would be over in five minutes. Also, now I run little experiments from year to year like, “What difference will it make in the percentage of students that get this question correct on the test this year because I did the Newton’s third law lab as an introductory, exploratory-style lab rather than a confirmation-after-the-lecture lab?” This type of scientific pedagogical exploration would not be possible without using the same test question year after year.
What about students not having access to their tests at home when they are studying for the mid-year or final? My observation here is the same one I had after I stopped giving them a review packet for the mid-year or final: They do just fine or even better. Students can and occasionally do come by the science office to consult a copy of the test questions, but a focus on just those few questions on the unit tests does not represent the true scope of the course. Going back to the homeworks, the notes, the handouts, the textbook itself, etc. obliges the student to synthesize the entirety of the course. Reviewing specific test questions offers an illusion of fluency: “I know how to answer #5 so I’m good!” rather than, “Gee, how did that Newton’s third law work again?” My only caveat here is that when I first stopped giving review packets, some students simply did not study for the mid-year or final, and they certainly did worse. I’ve subsequently become very explicit about giving them a speech about their responsibilities in the lack of such a packet.
In short, in my search for a better test, I found myself with better pedagogy overall.
Note from the author: I’ve formulated these thoughts about my own personal journey in teaching Honors Physics through the years. I know that every course and every teacher has their own emphasis and their own focus, and I hope it goes without saying that my own reflections should in no way be construed as a judgement or even advice to other teachers. I couldn’t be prouder of working shoulder to shoulder with so many talented and dedicated professionals as I do here at Wayland High School.
No comments:
Post a Comment