A Detailed Account of My Attempt to Make My Classroom Reflect the Workplace

It's finally happened. I never thought it would, but I've been convinced: it's time to make school more like the work environment. 

I used to get annoyed when people (the ones who claim that no student can possibly be successful in life without reading every single classic from the canon, think social-emotional learning is a swear word, and whose profile pictures are usually a stock photo of a dog or a bookshelf) started critiquing my grading policies by saying things like "no one gets second chances in the real world" and "the world doesn't care about you as much as they care about your productivity" and "how are we going to prepare them for jobs if we keep telling them that their humanity matters" (I think I'm capturing the gist, but I can't remember the exact words). I used to dismiss them. I was such a fool. Hindsight's always 20-20, I guess.

But now, because of some well-crafted arguments with incredibly creative use of pUncTuAtion (sometimes even in all caps – the creative genius in that choice is staggering, every time), I've learned the error of my ways. How dare I think that because I'd spent hours and hours and hours researching, reading, experimenting, and reflecting on effective grading practices that my ideas were any better than their gut reactions and overgeneralized blanket statements about what the work world was like when they were growing up? How dare I think that there should be a human element involved in the assessment process, when everyone knows that the only point of school is to churn out machines capable of high amounts of factory-work-assembly-line productivity in a modern workplace? 

How dare I. 

Sincerely, very very genuinely and sincerely, I regret the egregious error of my previous ways. 

However, I have since learned, spent hours confessing to religious leaders of all factions, and to help other educators, am documenting the important changes I've made to my grading, assessment, and classroom practices to ensure our students are better-prepared for the realities they will face in the workplace. Because that is the only point of school. Full stop. Period. End of sentence. Exclamation point.

1. Preparation for Managers and Bosses

I realized that I've been way too soft. I've been smiling at students. Imagine that. Smiling. If only I had known what I was doing at the time. I'm trying to make up for it by making sure they are prepared for any and all bosses they will encounter in the modern workplace.

1. Forgetting Their Names - I'm routinely calling students by the wrong name or severely butchering the pronunciation. I want to make sure they are ready for the severely dehumanizing relationship they'll experience in the Fortune 500 companies they'll inevitably work for. They are going to be so thankful for me once they get there. They won't even notice the barrage of humiliation by then.
2. Screaming. Lots of Screaming - When kids used to ask for an extension for a legitimate reason [brace yourself], I would let them have it. I know, I know. Now? Oh man, they are too terrified to even try. Shows I'm on the right track. The last one who asked got a full on tirade that ended with a steaming hot cup of coffee dumped right on their head. (In my defense, for those of you softies claiming I was too harsh, I was aiming for the paper in their hand but got carried away.) I honestly can't believe how helpful I'm being in preparing them for the real world. I can't wait for the end-of-year thank you cards this year.
3. Intense Favoritism - You know what I used to think? I used to think it was important that all students felt valued in my classroom. What workplace am I preparing them for? One in a hippy commune? Get real. Now, I play it up as much as I can. I relabeled my front row the "LOSER cruisers," and I always give them a 79% just to watch them cry. The back row, with the kids who give the best high fives and talk to me about sports when I'm supposed to be teaching, they're "The Straight A's" because that's the grade I give them for being cool. The rest of the class hates it now, but it's just tough love. They'll understand someday.
   

Seriously, the work I'm doing to prepare them for the real world is incredible. I am changing so many lives. Like, so many. 

2. A Cutthroat Mentality

You know how you get ahead in the modern workplace? By building a stairway to the top out of the dead bodies of your "friends" and people who think they can stand in your way. You know who gets ahead? The ones who don't let silly things like "morality" or "friendship" slow them down. To think that I was viewing grades as a reporting tool for student learning and not a method of ranking students and creating the ever-so-important I'll-kill-you-and-your-puppy-for-an-A atmosphere. I'm so embarrassed. As such, I've enacted a few policies to help fix this this.

1. Plagiarism Is Encouraged - Let's get real. The modern workforce doesn't care HOW you got it done. They only care that you got it done. I tell my students, "If you're going to plagiarize, I'm fine with that, but you'd better learn how to silence the person whose work you stole." There's nothing worse than some nerd trying to ruin your reputation by claiming "rightfully so" that the work you turned in was actually something they spent hours and hours working on. To help with this, I've even started a new club: Blackmail and Bank Rolls. It's just simulations for now, but it's going to make students turn into real winners in the workplace.
2. "If You're Not First, You're Last" - I've realized that in the current job market, speed matters more than anything else. I used to just use deadlines, but that was too laid back. Students need to learn that you're either first or you're forgotten. As such, I've adjusted how I distribute grades. Now, it's solely based on speed. I reserve three As for the first three students who complete a task. Then, a few Bs for the next ones, some Cs after that, etc. I want my students to learn the value of a quick and speedy work ethic above all else, and this method seemed like the best way to do it. The last kid who got an A put a hastily scribbled X on the name line, crumpled up the paper, and threw it right at my face before I'd even gotten to the next desk. That is going to be one successful kid.
3. The Cornucopia - I used to do these really detailed, personal grade conferences at the end of each term where students analyzed their progress and justified their grade, but then I realized that if everyone could potentially earn an A this way, it must be AWFUL in preparing them for the workplace. Thankfully, I have a much better idea. At the end of the term, I place a stack of papers in the middle of the football field, and on those papers are simple letter grades. The premise is so simple that I don't know how I missed it before. Everyone lines up in the end zones, and when I blow my whistle, they race to get the grades they want. No rules. I actually turn my back on the whole thing to make sure it's fair. Well, fair except for the fact that "The Straight A's" are given brass knuckles and baseball bats because what's favoritism even worth if it doesn't give you any advantages?

The hyper-productivity my students' future workplaces are going to get out of these competition-eating-machines will probably earn me a Nobel prize. I've already started drafting my speech for it. I haven't figured out who to thank besides myself yet, but maybe someone will come to mind.

3. Sexism. Let's Not Forget About Sexism.

I'll be honest. I forgot about this in my initial round of changes, but suddenly I realized that all my female-identifying students were doing just as well as the male-identifying students in my class instead of making 79% of what the rest of the class makes, and I was like, "WOAH. This is NOT getting them ready for the workplace." So, this change was super simple. I just subtract 20% from whatever grades all my female-identifying students get on every assignment. One of my students tried to complain about it, but fortunately a couple of other students were standing close enough that I could make a joke about how catty she was being. Really seemed to help her come around to what work will be like. 

I went home that night, poured myself some nice bourbon while my kids bothered my wife, and I thought to myself, "I wonder if other countries could use my expertise" and made a note to call a few Prime Ministers just to see if their country was worthy.

I'm kind of embarrassed that it's taken me this long to come around to some of these ideas. I think back to the days when students used to walk out of my class feeling like they were valued and successful, the days where students knew that they were more than just the sum of their met deadlines and completed tasks, and where they felt like I was someone who in their corner. I am so embarrassed when I look back on that. 

Now, my kids come in so afraid of me that they will do anything I say. They know that they have to please me and do my bidding if they ever hope to advance their grade even the teensiest bit. They know that the only way they can be successful is to sabotage, undermine, and fully destroy the success of others to ensure that they shine the brightest. 

Honestly, just writing that, I felt a tear start to rise up in one eye. It's so beautiful. Absolutely so beautiful. 

These are the students the workforce wants. These are the ones who are willing to sacrifice time with their family, their own mental health, and all of their previously-held passions because the best way to get ahead is to spend a weekend putting together a spending report to put onto a desk for the 9:00 AM deadline on Monday so that it can be read promptly at 3:00 PM on Thursday. These are the ones who understand that "culture" and "climate" are words HR throws around because someone's feelings got hurt when you stole their idea and pitched it to your boss during the weekly night at the bar for the select few who like to give high-fives and talk about sports. These are the ones who recognize that the surest way to stay at the bottom of the barrel is to advocate for yourself instead of simply submitting to the temporary pain of being devalued and dehumanized for years on the off-chance that those in power might let you sit at the table for one beautiful moment until they change their mind. 

When I think about everything I'm doing for these students, I can't help but smile and pat my own back. 

You're welcome, kids. You're welcome, economy. You're welcome, world. 

Ooh! I have to go write that down for the closing line of my awards acceptance speech. The nominations haven't started rolling in yet, but they will. 

Oh, they will. 

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Before someone Tweets this without realizing it's not 100% satirical, it is. Our kids deserve better than an education designed solely to turn them into machines in our economy. Yes, a lot of those skills – timeliness, drive, social intelligence, etc. – matter, but the way that those concepts are leveraged in schools often lead to harmful practices. We're better than that. We're better than the easy way out. 

Our kids deserve better.