How to Grade Essays during Vacation

Right now it's "ski week". I'm not entirely sure when Ski Week was officially birthed. I think Newport Mesa School District may have started it. You know how there's Presidents Day and Lincoln's Birthday in February? Well, some districts took a four-day weekend. Some took two three-day weekends. Some (like mine) got to vote on what they wanted. Back when I was working in an after-school program at NM, the quandry was solved with a full week off. I think the justification was that families just took the opportunity to go on vacation or whatever, and with all the absences the school lost a lot of money, so it made more sense to just take the week off. I think it was called President's Week or something. Since we're in Orange County, Land of Privilege and Disposable Income, a lot of people took that week to go skiing (which is probably why the vacation was forced anyway). I honestly thought it was just the one district, because when I started sub-ing at multiple districts, that was the only one that took "ski week" (which became it's unofficial nickname). I chalked it up to rich Newport folk who neeeeeded to go skiing. For a whole week. Of course the flip side to that was that three days were added on to the end of the year, so that district always got out later. But that was how it goes. You want to go skiing, you lose three beach days.

Anyway, eventually I landed my gig, where I've been for six years. We've never had ski week. We've always had either the four-day or two three-day weekends. This year we ended up with five furlough days. They tossed three of them amongst the Presidents, and now we have ski week. But unpaid, so....there's that.

At any rate, that means I'm home with my littles this week. Which is fantastic, because I love them so much. So I lined up nine days of adventures and playdates and all kinds of riotous fun. So obviously both felt a little warm to the touch yesterday. Happy and playful and acting normal. But warm. I finally took their temps at the end of the day, and sure enough, both had fevers. F#@$(@*%($@#. When will this end?!?!?!?!? Whatever. At least I don't have to get up before God and make sub plans. And they honestly don't even seem sick--they just have fevers. So maybe this will be mild and quick.

But that's not what this post is about. This post is to tell you about grading essays. See, I'm an English teacher. I teach history too, but that's just all fun and games. The English...that's a different beast. Because I hate myself, I got a credential in Spending All of your Life Grading Essays. I could, of course, assign very few essays. But then my kids would take the writing exam and fail because you can't achieve in something you don't practice. But this Being a Good Teacher thing is a double-edged sword. I take one for the team so that they can do well. This means I spend a lot of time grading.

(side note: to those who say, "It must be nice to be a teacher and have all that time off." That's so cute.)

So I just thought I'd let you peek into a typical essay-grading day. I usually beg and bribe Matt to hang out with the kids for several hours on a Saturday so I can go to Barnes and Noble and do it. First, I need coffee and treats and books to get me through. Second, I can't grade at home. There are too many shiny things to distract me. TV! The sewing machine! Knitting! I need to clean my bathroom! Hey, when was the last time I scrubbed the baseboards? You know, that kind of thing. So I hunker down at a table in the cafe with a) coffee, b) a treat, and c) reward books. Then it goes like this. I count the essays, and I break them up into chunks. And I'll make a deal with myself, like every ten essays I get to take a couple of bites of my treat then check facebook. After every class set I get to take a ten-minute break to read a chapter of a book or peruse a knitting or sewing pattern book. Then I dive in.

The state writing test is a week after we get back. So my kids have been writing a lot, and I have a lot to grade. I want to get them done so that the week we get back we can spend time going over all of their work and working out plans to improve. That means spending six hours of ski week grading essays. I wanted to get it done right away so I could focus on the fun-having. Since Matt was going to be gone most of the weekend playing guitar at church, I had a bargaining chip. Also, bridesmaid #2 had a baby on Friday, so I had a hospital visit I needed to do. My Saturday was all planned out. First, grade a little. Second, take a baby break. Third, more grading.

Me and my, I mean Melissa's, new baby man.

 So I went to Starbucks and knocked out almost a whole class set before my friend got there. We went to the hospital together to snuggle. Then I went to Barnes and Noble, which is where my story really begins.

This is how a round of essays goes:

The first set of ten, maybe even the first class set, goes pretty well. I'm going at a good pace, smiling at the good ones and shaking my head (with a smile) at the not-so-good ones. I take my breaks, but brief ones.

Somewhere around essay 30, things start to get fuzzy. I have to do some re-reading because I'm getting distracted thinking about my treat or the next chapter in my reward book, or "has anyone commented on my status in the last thirty seconds". But then I come across a great one that has me riveted. I remember that I love my job and my students. I come across a not-so-great one, and I think about how I can't wait to get back to work and show my students how to cite sources...again.

Then I do some refinancing on my pile. I change it to seven essays before I get to take a break. I start going faster through the essays. I start to hate my students, both the good ones (why are you making me suffer through several pages?) and the not-so-good ones (why are you wasting my time with one paragraph?). Don't worry, I have a rubric and anchor papers (examples), so the grades are fair. But Self-loathing sets in, usually around essay 75. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why do I keep assigning essays? Why didn't I become a math teacher? I could have. I'm really good at math. When is the next math CSET? I could probably pass it if I took it cold. But then I'd have to teach math. I hate my life. And oh my gosh, do you seriously not know that you have to capitalize the first letter of every sentence?!?!

I breathe. I take a break, get another treat, and read two chapters. I start a new pile. On top is a really good essay that makes me think and I learn something new. I'm smiling again.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

(In case you were dying to know, I did not finish my pile. I got through about 1/3, then I had to go home because it was Matt's turn to leave. Which means I need to find three more hours during my break without my children. Please, don't all volunteer at once.)