Retaining students through labor-based grading and dual modality

Abstract

In response to a series of enrollment challenges, I have developed online sections for all German courses, usually offered simultaneously with synchronous instruction within a single course, as well as introduced labor-based grading, eschewing summative performance assessments. This Forum article outlines these efforts and describes how they are fostering program gains. For a decade, my small program at a Midwestern metropolitan university has been under pressure to grow in a difficult environment. In 2018, the board of the largest suburban school district in the region ended middle-school German. Disciplines that have historically awarded the bachelor of arts have begun to offer the bachelor of science to circumvent the four-semester language requirement. Dual enrollment options for high school students have increased, which promotes undergraduate recruitment but automatically shrinks introductory and intermediate courses. Finally, an ongoing budget crisis in our university system has threatened small programs. Meanwhile, as the sole full-time professor in a language program that includes both a major and a minor, I develop and maintain the dual-mode curriculum—both in-person and online—for a regular rotation of 14 courses, as well as providing all the student support required for program upkeep, such as advising and rapport- and community-building. These circumstances have made it impossible to launch the high school outreach to which I aspire.

Enrollment began to plummet in the 2010s. After years of having up to 30 students every fall in our third-semester course, only 17 enrolled in fall 2016, an abrupt and marked decline. We had gained a third section of first-semester German only to watch enrollment dive so quickly that we finally had only one. Upper-division courses, which had historically been small but usually still met the 10-student minimum and often rose to the mid- to high teens, soon shrunk to anxiety-provoking lows of four to seven. However, in the last 2 years, despite continued lower enrollment at the intermediate level primarily attributable to fewer new students from high schools, we have re-established a second section of introductory German in fall semesters, and upper-division courses are beginning to climb again. Most importantly, more students are pursuing majors and minors: after a combined low of nine in spring 2020, there are currently 19 four years later (see Table 1). I credit two fundamental changes for this momentum: the development of online modes for every course and the rejection of performance-based summative assessments in favor of labor-based grading (Inoue, 2019; Tobin & Behling, 2018).

Since fall 2021, I have been creating online sections for each course so that students can opt to participate in person or asynchronously. Although we encourage synchronous instruction, we make a small number of online “seats” available to those with temporal or spatial restrictions. All students follow the identical curriculum via materials on Canvas. Additionally, asynchronous students regularly practice oral proficiency in small groups via Zoom, complete additional exercises, and interact on a digital discussion board weekly to approximate the classroom work. The global pandemic of 2020 highlighted the benefits of flexibility in instructional delivery, but the set of limitations and opportunities at my institution makes adaptability especially attractive to students. About 40% of our undergraduates are first-generation learners, and we serve many fully employed people, as well as older students who often also care for family members. In addition, our university prides itself on being one of the United States's most supportive institutions for military-connected students, who comprise almost 12% of the student body and who sometimes deploy midsemester (University of Nebraska at Omaha, 2022–2023). Although an urban campus, we are a public institution in a large, sparsely populated state, and an online option makes education more attainable for rural students. Finally, some undergraduate disciplines that encourage students to learn languages—political science and sociology, for instance—guarantee the possibility to earn a degree fully online; in order to continue offering the bachelor of arts, they require online access at minimum to the first four semesters of a language. For all these reasons, providing flexibility in instructional modality promotes language education for all.

Furthermore, in online courses, we can incorporate the universal design that makes our courses more accessible to students with learning, physical, medical, and mental health disabilities, as well as those experiencing emergencies. A well-designed course can offer deadline variability for students in crisis or better opportunities to pursue a degree while caretaking. Equally important, merging online and in-person sections in a learning management system ensures this flexibility not only for online students but also for their in-person peers, who benefit from additional online materials and can switch modalities temporarily if needed. Indeed, I have had soldiers complete work during brief deployments, hospitalized students return to thrive after a short pause, and students prioritize studying for finals in another course while utilizing the online materials to stay current in mine. Asynchronous courses do seem especially to attract some who expect a less challenging course and lack the motivation or time to participate fully. However, I have had exceptional asynchronous students who have passionately learned the materials at an equal or even faster pace than their synchronous peers, a number of whom have declared majors or minors. In a myriad of ways, focusing on universal accessibility via online course delivery helps all committed students achieve despite life burdens that could otherwise become obstacles.

No less beneficial has been a shift to exclusively formative assessments. Students sign contracts at the beginning of the semester agreeing to base their final grade on the time and effort spent learning the material rather than on their performance on tests or assignments. For years I had bristled at the drawbacks of grading. An inconsistent and often punitive system, it turns education into a game of hurdles, undermining curiosity, provoking anxiety and competition among students, and exacerbating the power imbalance between learner and instructor (Blum, 2020; Eyler, 2022; Lang, 2013; Pulfrey et al., 2019; Strommel, 2020). Performance assessments drive students to pursue the most direct route to the desired grade, promoting cheating and leading some to choose courses below an appropriate proficiency level in hopes of an easy A. In this way, conventional grading discourages risk-taking and creativity and rewards those with prior experience, while dissuading those who find the content challenging (Kohn, 2011).

For years, I have aimed to reward curiosity, risk-taking, and creativity. To achieve this, I have incorporated two crucial changes. First, I eliminated all tests. Initially, I simply wanted to reclaim the hours lost to testing that could instead be devoted to learning. Not only did this yield approximately five additional hours of instruction per semester per course, but I also found that I did not lose the ability to assess. In a small program, I have the privilege of watching my students develop as individuals over multiple semesters. I no longer require tests for assurance that they make progress: I witness first-hand the improvement of their writing and speaking, as well as the maturation of their cultural analysis.

More recently, I moved to eliminate all grades until their required submission at the end of the semester in favor of assessing students’ labor with the course materials, which are varied, differentiated by skill level, proficiency-oriented, and primarily formative: structured conversations and discussion boards, homework assignments that include reading, writing, and listening assignments as well as context-driven vocabulary practice, traditional vocabulary drilling via digital flashcards, drafted compositions for intermediate and advanced students, formal presentations, self-reflections, and so forth. I record completion, provide substantive feedback, and encourage augmentation through cooperation with peers, attendance at our weekly Stammtisch and my office hours, and repetition of challenging assignments. The contract students sign outlines the philosophy behind the method:

The results have thus far been overwhelmingly positive. A minority of students fails to complete the assignments, misses frequent classes, and shows little effort toward developing their skills. This minority has existed at approximately the same percentage for the entirety of my employment at this institution, however, and while I have not managed to improve this situation, my approach to grading appears to make learning German more enjoyable for the majority who does devote the time and effort to learn. I will soon be implementing a qualitative assessment to test my anecdotal observations: My classroom atmosphere is more relaxed and buoyant. Almost never do I have to field frustrating conversations about grades anymore. I notice fewer violations of academic integrity, and usually a single reminder of policy sufficiently curbs the behavior. My retention from semester to semester has increased, particularly among enthusiastic students who find learning a language difficult. No longer do grades discourage them; they put in the time, they learn—maybe not as swiftly as others, but they learn—and their grades reflect this progress. My strongest students are beginning to shed the perfectionism that years of seeking the highest grade had trained in them and are taking more risks to make the errors through which we learn. And in an atmosphere that celebrates the joy in curiosity, the excitement of acquiring language, and the power of working hard at something one enjoys, our German program has gained in energy, comradery, and student numbers.