Grading

I'm sitting at Starbucks, grading papers (and surfing the Internet, which is much more fun), and I wish I didn't have to assign grades. It's painful grading a student with learning differences, tallying the total, and writing "F" at the top of the paper. I don't think my students often realize the struggle I endure to give them the grade they deserve. Instead, the complaint is "Mrs. Bird grades too hard." At moments like this (midterm time), I wish I taught in a world where students were so eager to learn that grading became a frivolous, meaningless activity. A world in which students read Austen and Dumas (or any author!) for fun and wrote their thoughts daily. A world in which math didn't exists. (Sorry, math-friends.)

All this teacher-introspection and evaluation of my students causes me to think about my little girl. Will she be a brainiac? An avid reader? A bit on the slow side? Lacking common sense? A music prodigy? A gal who can't hit a note if her life depended on it? A fan of chic lit or sci-fi? A movie-reviewer? Possess a sense of direction? Get lost from the door to the driveway? Right now, all the many pieces of her are unknown, and the reality of the possibilities excites my heart. I will have the opportunity to know a whole new little person while she discovers her likes and dislikes, her strengths and weaknesses. My hope, my plan, and my expectation is to take her as she is--learning differences, an IQ of 180, or just an average girl. I'm so glad that I don't have to grade her on a scale of 1-100. I'm sure I couldn't be fair at all.