A Rubric for Rigor
by John Bartholomew
The Oxford English Dictionary has a strict view of what rigor is. “Severity,” “harshness,” “strict enforcement of rules,” it suggests—not an inviting prospect really for students and teachers. “Logical accuracy,” “exactitude,” it continues, edging closer to what I think the Cornerstone Literacy Initiative is heading for when it uses the word.
And use it, Cornerstone does. Many, even most, of our review reports include “rigor” among their recommendations. It is an exhortation to be dissatisfied with easier options. I dare say we could all be more rigorous in many aspects of our lives and work, so, speaking as a reviewer, it is a fairly safe bet that a recommendation to be more rigorous in the classroom is going to give the majority of teachers, even the best of them, something to work on. Five years ago, in 2005, I wrote the following notes on rigor as an appendix to a review report, and since then, I notice that it has sometimes been adopted as an appendix in other reviewers’ reports as well.
Our recommendations encourage greater rigor in the classroom, by which we mean not more work, but more thinking. Examples of things we observed in the school where greater rigor could have been introduced include the following:
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Coloring is an activity that lacks challenge. Rigor means instead of coloring in outline drawings on ditto sheets, younger students could do a freehand illustration for their writing, and then add details to their picture.
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Ditto sheets where the same answer is expected from everyone are dull and do not extend thinking. They imply the same expectation of every student. Rigor means that ditto sheets should only be used when they are open ended, and every child is expected to come up with something different.
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Silencing students who are talking to each other in the classroom discourages collaborative learning. Rigor means that time is allowed for children to question each other about their thinking, and the working noise generated by this ‘accountable talk’ should be welcomed, not disapproved.
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Telling students to “write about what you remember from the book” does not focus their thinking, or help them to improve their writing. Rigor means that teachers write interactively or model the writing technique they want the children to use, share vocabulary and ideas around the class, and expect individuality in the writing produced.
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Writing that is restricted to one or two sentences does not allow students to develop their writing skills. Rigor means that there is time given to write at length, and it is expected that details will be added that take the writing beyond the bare facts.
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Writing can be delayed because of lack of vocabulary, or poor spelling skills. Rigor means that students have developed independent self help, referring to word banks, dictionaries or other supports as they go.
- Questions during crafting sessions that require only single word answers are closed and do not encourage deep thought. Rigor means that both students and teachers frame questions that require a considered reply.
Reading it again, I find little to disagree with, except that I feel that Cornerstone, with most of its schools, has moved beyond this now. Many of the strictures would now be considered a “given” in most of our classrooms.
Recently, the principal of a school that I was about to review challenged me during my preliminary visit. ‘I have no problem with you recommending greater rigor,’ she said, before I had even raised the subject, ‘in fact I would welcome it. But you need to tell us what it looks like.’ Since the school’s previous report had included the very same five-year-old appendix I have quoted above, I realized that the time had come to go further.
The previous report had also included what I consider to have been a brilliant recommendation, that the staff should work together to “develop and implement elements of a staff rubric for rigor across the school.” Sadly, and for good and understandable reasons, it hadn’t happened. With the agreement of the principal, I repeated the recommendation. Now to respond to the challenge: What does it actually look like?
I decided to devote part of a review team meeting to devising our own “rubric for rigor.” This would enable us to make the recommendation with the enhanced authority of having experienced the activity. I knew this would be much stronger than just passing it on as a good idea. I devoted quite a lot of thought to this rubric, at moments across a whole day, jotting down ideas as they occurred to me on a whiteboard in our meeting room, and inviting the other team members to consider these. Some of them made additions. The rubric was to offer a four-point scale, similar to those commonly used in schools for student self-assessment. During our evening meeting, having arrived fairly quickly at a consensus regarding the strengths and needs of the school, we turned our attention to developing the rubric as a group. It was, I emphasize, a limited time, but it was enough to get us to the point where we had fairly full entries at point one (lack of rigor) and point four (very rigorous). Overnight, I spent more time graduating the rubric so that there was a logical progression through levels two and three. The next morning, I shared the result with the team, and we were pleased with our efforts, although conscious that it had been hastily prepared, and was open to improvement. You will find the rubric we made at the foot of this article. I also included as an appendix to the review report for the school, hoping that this met the principal’s initial challenge in a helpful way.
Subsequently I have been debating with myself the wisdom of including it in the report. The point about the recommendation was that the faculty should work together to develop their own rubric. It was made clear in the oral feedback that this should be so, but no doubt the temptation to adopt a ready-made one will have been quite potent. I do hope that the faculty, maybe after mining it for ideas, started with a blank flipchart page and debated each point for themselves.
Here is a process that I would recommend to schools:
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The literacy leadership teams identifies examples of lack of rigor, from their own observations an knowledge of the school. This will be the starting point for level 1 of your rubric;
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Pair these examples off with examples of very rigorous alternatives to the poor practice you have just listed;
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Present these lists to the faculty for discussion in small groups. Encourage additions and suggestions for rewording. Perhaps you will end up with the top and bottom for seven to ten strands. If you get too many, conduct a prioritization exercise;
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Allocate each of these strands to a group and ask them to develop the intermediate levels. You will end up with a full four point rubric.
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Invite all staff members to privately assess their personal overall level of classroom rigor, on the basis of a ‘best fit. To the rubric. Establish the expectation that all classrooms will be operating at least at level 3.
- Once a more rigorous ethos starts to be established in the school, use the rubric as an aide-memoire for observations, learning walks, and team meetings.
Now, here is the rubric we came up with (see next page). Do not show it to your faculty – at least, not until they have come up with their own!
A Rubric for Rigor
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Level 1 – Lack of Rigor
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Level 2 – Limited Rigor
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Level 3 – Rigorous
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Level 4 – Very Rigorous
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John Bartholomew is a senior reviewer for Cornerstone Literacy. The above rubric was devised by John, with assistance from Bob Purifico, education consultant; Rhonda Stowell, principal at Dorman school, Springfield, MA; JoAnn Trauschke, ILS at Milton Bradley School, Springfield, MA; and Patty Brunault, ILS at Dorman School School, Springfield, MA.