During the last collaborative meeting in my school, we reviewed the year thus far; highs, lows, what worked, what didn’t. The teachers and I attempted to wrap our heads around student progress—or rather, the lack thereof. For many meetings, we have repeated numbers and data that prove that the students were not performing well, or at least well enough to meet certain standards. “Students are not coming to class!” “Students are performing the bare minimum, or even worse!” “Students just don’t care.”

Why?

In my observations of students—both based on my teaching experience and supporting data—the effort put into core classes decreased, specifically in the English department. Literacy among high school students continues to trend downward, comprehension skills have not been honed, and overall progress has not been made.

There was a commonality among teachers that I did not realize until it was mentioned at one of thee meetings: “Students simply need to pass the first two quarters in order to pass the entire class.”

“Pass”?

My eyes widened at that notion. I could not believe what I was hearing. Such a rule devalues education as a whole and implies that the bare minimum is the norm. I had to investigate it myself.

Now, when I went digging into this “policy,” I found nothing specific about it. I did, however, need to do some math to see if a student can get two D’s in two quarters and still pass a class. According to the current grading policy, the final grade for a class takes the grades of all four quarters and averages them for a final measure. So, I took the best worst-case scenario first (60-60-50-50) and it averaged out to a 55%, which is not passing according to the policy. Then, I thought “What if they were high D’s and high E’s?” So, I calculated another random scenario (68+64+53+57) and the average between them was 60.5% which, by this new policy, was a passing grade for a class. I had figured out certain students’ mentalities. As long as they were able to maintain a D average for the entire year, they were ready to graduate.

(I then, almost understandably, became jealous and terrified of students with ~1.0 GPAs graduating high school since my high school GPA, on average, was a 3.5.)

When I first started to teach in my county in 2020, there was indeed one grading policy that remains consistent to this day, and that is the “good faith” rule in which students were given a 50% on their assignment if they at least showed some sort of effort. (PGCPS, 2023) While it is noble to assist students in this regard, is it truly acceptable for students to be counted for what a teacher deems as effort? Curriculum and class assignments are put into place to assess students’ knowledge and growth. Effort, while valiant, is qualifiable rather than quantifiable, which the state of Maryland emphasizes so much with test scores and data. Teachers may have different measures of effort on an assignment—some may be more strict or more lenient. There are no established measures of what effort is.

There is another phrase of this protocol that raised my eyebrow: the students will get this good faith grade if they are also “trying an alternative method to solve a problem (which may not be accurate)” (PGCPS, 2023) Would we, as teachers, not expect accuracy, especially with subjects like math and applied sciences?

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Prince George’s County defines grades that are between 60% and 69% as “Below Average progress toward meeting course objectives and learning outcomes” (PGCPS, 2023) Would this imply that students are currently graduating “below average” levels of reading, comprehension, literacy, and other important skills needed to proceed to collegiate endeavors? Because of this specific wording and policy, students view their graded work not to receive the highest grade possible, but to make sure they are at least meeting these minimum standards.

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In an attempt to wrap my head around just how bizarre these grading policies were, I recalled my time in Prince George’s County as a student. Since I had attended the county from first grade to high school, I have a clear idea of how grading worked. Teachers held students to high standards, and, more often than not, D’s were considered failing, or below the requirements to move onto the next grade or course level. Honor Roll and Principal’s Honor Roll held minimums of B’s for each course—having anything lower than a B on your report card removed your name from the honor roll list, regardless of your overall GPA (to the detriment of myself and my parents). Schools were merciless when it came to students progressing with bad grades, and emphasized credit recovery and summer school in order to make those grades up or repeat the course in a timely manner.

The phrase I remember, even during high school, was “C’s get degrees.” This reigns true to this day. Colleges—for the most part—require a minimum grade of 70% in order to consider the course passed. Graduate schools have even higher expectations for students, requiring a minimum GPA of 3.0 (B-average) in most cases. By creating this precedence in high school for students to barely pass with D’s, we ultimately set them up for failure—both figuratively and literally. Students will see their 63% and think “well, that’s good enough,” especially students who are chronically late, absent, or lazy. This policy does not create future high-functioning members of society. Rather, it creates lethargic citizens who, while never realizing their full potential,

So, how is this problem to be fixed?

It’s difficult to say. Changing the grading policy overnight would seem drastic, especially for students who are already used to the current system. A review of the grading policy and the contemplation of the implications would be a good start. Administration can review existing data based on average grades in certain subjects to determine how students rely on the grading policy. There can also be an address or conversation with parents of students who accept their own bare minimum. How does the data look to them, and are they satisfied with these results?

I offer no true solutions to this predicament—to some, this may not even sound like a predicament. “Students are pressured too much in this day and age,” a parent may say in response to this article, “This sort of policy will be great for students who, while they put in ‘effort,’ they do not have the time (or urgency) to get at least a C!” Of course, many will understand this perspective for their own children, as they want the best for them.

Teachers—as much as one would not want to believe that—wish the same thing. If fact, we have standards of achievement that we would like to make for our students each year. When these standards are not met, we sit in meetings looking over data and wondering why the results are the way they are.