Common Questions About Grading
Q: I’ve heard that no one really gets an F in college. Is that true?
A: Sadly, that is absolutely untrue. F’s happen. I’ve had the unpleasant duty of administering some of them myself in my years of teaching.
Students in my classes can easily earn F’s for procedural reasons, such as non-attendance (or sporadic attendance), or through
constant underperformance.
Q: Well, then the other grading rumor that I’ve heard must be true – does anyone ever get
an A in a writing class?
A: Yes, students can and do earn A’s in my classes. I have never yet taught a class in which no one earned an A, and I usually have more
than one student at A level by the semester’s end. Does that mean an A is easy to earn? Far from it – this is a difficult mark to earn.
Q: I’ve never gotten less than an A, so I don’t have anything to worry about, right?
A: I hear this all too often from students who believe that past performance at the high school level serves as a definitive indicator of
performance in my class. The truth is that, for most people, college work is difficult. For an even larger number of students, writing well
is difficult. Having earned A’s in previous writing classes (high school or college) does not ensure that you will continue to earn A’s; I
can’t even promise that hard work alone will earn you an A.
After reading that, are you frightened or angry? Don’t be. Think about what a grade of A indicates: excellence. The state of being
excellent means that you are better at the task at hand than most people you will ever meet in the span of your life. A means excellent,
not adequate, not all right or good enough.
A grade of C, by the way, is not a bad grade. C means that you have sufficiently met the requirements of the assignment, and thus have
met average expectations. Average is what most people are at most things – that’s how the word average received its definition. A grade of C should not be construed as a source of shame by any means.
Q: I just got my first paper back – I thought that you liked me, so why do you hate me?
A: The first paper (or exam, or other graded activity) almost always causes more hurt feelings than any other. In the honeymoon period of
the first few weeks before the first grade comes back, you and I have fun in class, you think I’m a good-natured dork with a broad and
bad sense of humor. Then, after the first grade, you think that I’m a horrible and evil woman, power-mad and wicked with the desire to
crush the spirit right out of you. The truth is that I like teaching partly because I genuinely like my students. Another truth is that the
first grades are almost always the worst – not because I grade harder on that paper, but because you don’t yet know how my grading
works. This is why that first paper is worth a smaller percentage than the others in the calculation of your final grade. What’s more,
most people who genuinely try to improve their writing do so. Don’t view the first grade as the sealing of your fate in this class.
Q: Okay, you can believe all that if you want to, but you’re the teacher – how do you expect
us to feel after finding out that we’re “average” or “below average” – or, worse yet, a
“failure”?!
A: Ah, it sounds there as though you’re confusing your grade with your actual self; a grade of “D” on a paper does not mean you’re a
below average person, only that this piece of writing was below average. The distinction may sound small, but it is incredibly important.
If you never become an excellent writer, this doesn’t mean that you as a person are average; I know that every student in my class has
a number of strengths and talents, regardless of his or her writing skills.
To illustrate further, I’ll share with you a story about my own experience with a grade that I didn’t want. I will never pretend to possess
excellence in mathematics, and my undergraduate grades attest to my below-averageness in that area. To earn my bachelor’s
degree, I had to take a pre-calculus class. I really didn’t want to take that class, but I tried my hardest to do well. Not only did I tackle
every problem ever assigned in that class, I worked through extra problems to try to improve. I sought help from the instructor, and I
worked in study groups with my classmates. Despite all this work, the grade that I earned in that class was a D. I was very upset, but
that was truly the best that I could earn. Ultimately, that grade (and some other grades I might not have liked to receive) didn’t prevent
me from finding a job in a stockbroker’s office and, later, getting into a good graduate school. And while I didn’t enjoy working incredibly
hard for that D, at least I know that I did all that I could – and I’m proud that I at least earned an honest (if not necessarily impressive)
grade.
Q: All right, this will be difficult. But if I do everything that you say in your comments on
my paper, then I’ll get an A, right?
A: Well, one of the difficulties in writing is that it doesn’t work quite like math. There’s no set formula for excellent writing. You may make a
lot of revisions and progress from one paper to the next, but I can’t foresee other potential problems that you may encounter. If you
come to me and ask what you can do to get an A, I’ll very gently try to explain that I have no magical set of steps or golden formula to
give you. I wish that I did, since I teach in the hopes of helping people learn to write solidly and well.
Q: When I get my graded paper back, why won’t you talk to me about it right away?
A: First, let me elaborate for a moment on my waiting period: I have a policy about grading in which I refuse to discuss your paper grade
until the class period after I’ve returned the papers. This usually boils down to a 48-hour waiting period, but if you receive a paper back
on Friday, I won’t discuss it, even via e-mail, until Monday. Why? Well, I spend about half an hour grading each paper, and I comment
extensively on your draft. Since I put a good amount of time into grading, I want you to at least take the time to read and consider my
comments. If you haven’t read my commentary, you won’t know why I assigned the grade that you received. I also recommend that you
look at the rubric on pages 8-10 of your Course Handbook, and think about how your paper would fit into the assigned grade. Usually
this sort of thought and reflection makes further questions of me unnecessary.
Q: Well, if I really need a good grade, you’ll give me one … right, wink wink?
A: First, I have to correct your verb there – you earn a grade more than I give you one. You’ll come to be very familiar with the grading
rubric early in the semester, so you know what it takes to earn each grade. You grades are your responsibility; I’m not the evil jack-
booted fascist out to ruin everyone’s lives with F’s, I’m just here as a facilitator and a resource. I assume that each of my students want
a good grade, but I believe in grading fairly. So, if late in the semester you keep telling me, “gee, I really need a good grade in here
[hint, hint]”, I will tell you to visit the Writing Center and to make appointments to see me in my office hours. In short, I don’t give away
grades that students don’t earn. If that offends you, or if as an athlete or sorority member or person desperately needing to keep a
scholarship (or any other role that you feel entitles you to unearned good grades) you feel that you are above the rules to which
everyone else must adhere, I suggest that you not only drop class but leave college. If it’s so hard for you that you want someone else
to give you grades or do things for you, college is not where you should be.
Links
USC Writing Center Grading Rubric
