Measuring Wrong
I was just wondering: during what year of my life did I improve most as a musician? Maybe the first year, when I went from zero to one, or in high school when I started playing with others, or when I started teaching music and had to shape up to ward off my impostor syndrome.
And then I wondered: what does that question even mean? "Good at music" isn't quantifiable. You can measure some specific skills, but that's essentially asking what year I matured the most, then checking the pencil marks on the door frame.
I think quantitatively by default. Maybe it's from my STEM background, or from my underlying disposition towards the same. Mostly, I just really don't jive with ambiguity.1 Quantitative analyses give definitive-feeling answers. Although I've grown into a lot more flexibility with practice, I crave certainty even where it cannot reasonably be expected.
It's like the old saying:
When all you're willing to use is a ruler, everything's a nail measurable to the nearest 1⁄16".
I just started working in public schools again filling a mid-year opening. Scary, because I was, well, uncertain how I'd do in this new workplace2. On day three, students are already asking about grades. "Is this graded?" "Does it matter how accurate my predictions are?" "Are you going to grade the packet or is the other teacher?" "Why didn't we have a test for the last unit?"
These are motivated students to be sure. I won't pretend to know exactly why they're motivated, but I do see how they're motivated. Success is whatever part is measurable. Can't blame 'em. But in an effot to help the kids value learning over evaluation, I'll be implementing as much standards-based grading as I can.