Here be monsters

In the mi(d)st of the background reading for my Masters, I stumbled across an article (http://www.livescience.com/18678-incompetent-people-ignorant.html) that suggested that the less intelligent you are, the less intelligent you realise you are and, as a result, when asked to adjudge how you have fared in a piece of work, your lack of intelligence leads you to believe that you've got everything right.  Those with a modicum of nous will recognise that they can't possibly have got everything right and so will demonstrate said knowledge by giving themselves less than full marks. 

In the dog eat dog world of primary state education, pupil voice is one of a multitude of buzzwords currently swarming in, on and around every classroom.  Involve them in the planning, the marking, the feedback, running the class, running the school and choosing the headteacher.  As a teacher I can just sit back with my feet up, dunking chocolate Hobnobs (other brands of chocolate coated oaty biscuits are available) into mugs of freshly brewed tea.

Or not.

The fact remains that however much voice we give our charges, the above appears to hold exponentially true for them ... And even for those deemed to be more able.

Self-assessment in the primary classroom - below a certain age, perhaps - is an exercise in futility.  Their naive self-belief is unfathomably brilliant but we shouldn't try and convince ourselves that it's doing anyone any favours.  If they think they've done amazing work then that's great until such time as they get feedback that underscores their entirely understandable mediocrity.  Is that of their peers any more valid?  I'd be inclined to say no; it's as unintentionally misguided as their own and similarly blind to said mediocrity.

Should we celebrate mediocrity?  Of course not but I think that there's a threat that, at times, we do.  All with the best intentions, of course: the hallowed Grail of increased self-esteem and/or confidence.  As mentioned herein -  http://www.opencolleges.edu.au/informed/features/self-efficacy-and-learning/ - monsters lurk in the shallows of well-meaning praise; the depths are a different matter entirely in this world of ever increasing accountability.

I'll continue to seek the assessment views of my class as I'm hoping that practice, on their part, makes perfect, but I'm not going to be holding my breath or basing any judgements on what they tell me.

Dig, if you will, a picture ...

Yestereve, at the tail end of a CAT session in which we had shared some good practice, sought pupil voice in the white noise of the feedback cycle and generally patted ourselves on the back for what we are doing well and skulked - like a shamefaced pooch accused of raiding the dustbin while pleading innocence despite the tinfoil blizzard that has beset the kitchen - in the face of indepth scrutiny that might reveal us for the charlatans we really are, we cast a weary eye over a chapter or two of a book in which it was mentioned that, if learning is to happen, volition and motivation need to converge.

This got me thinking ...

I've always said, somewhat facetiously, that when I was at school my teachers would try and goad me into action by suggesting that if I didn't extract my proverbial finger, I'd be lumbered with a B for my efforts.  

My silent but subconscious retort was always - contrary to that which I outwardly displayed to my concerned parents, academic tutors and anyone else with a vested interest in my education - "What's wrong with a B?"  I almost wonder whether I'd have accepted the B then in return for fewer classroom hours and less agro on the homework front.

Through every exam I ever did, up to and including my undergraduate degree, I coasted.  I did what I had to and no more.

Aged 32 I signed up to do my PGCE and there and then it was that the volition/motivation lines crossed.  I loved what I was doing, I wanted to do well.

32.

Thirty two.

I have 26 children in my class at present.  

Since qualifying as a teacher I have taught upwards of 200 primary aged children.  Some of them will undoubtedly follow the same trajectory as I did and for some it will take even longer.  Some will have peaked already and others will peak just when current assessment strategies demand that they should.

What does it all mean?  No idea.

As I said, it made me think.