If you’ve worked superbly damn freaking hard this semester, but still got messed up results, don’t emo. There’s a perfectly logical explanation to why it happened.
—

A Guide to Grading Exams
by Daniel L. Solove

It’s that time of year again. Students have taken their finals, and now it is time to grade them. It is something professors have been looking forward to all semester. Exactness in grading is a well-honed skill, taking considerable expertise and years of practice to master. The purpose of this post is to serve as a guide to young professors about how to perfect their grading skills and as a way for students to learn the mysterious science of how their grades are determined.

Grading begins with the stack of exams, shown in Figure 1 below.

The next step is to use the most precise grading method possible. There never is 100% accuracy in grading essay exams, as subjective elements can never be eradicated from the process. Numerous methods have been proposed throughout history, but there is one method that has clearly been proven superior to the others. See Figure 2 below.

The key to this method is a good toss. Without a good toss, it is difficult to get a good spread for the grading curve. It is also important to get the toss correct on the first try. Exams can get crumpled if tossed too much. They begin to look as though the professor actually read them, and this is definitely to be avoided. Additional tosses are also inefficient and expend needless time and energy. Note the toss in Figure 3 below. This is an example of a toss of considerable skill — obviously the result of years of practice.

Note in Figure 3 above that the exams are evenly spread out, enabling application of the curve. Here, however, is where the experts diverge. Some contend that the curve ought to be applied as in Figure 4 below, with the exams at the bottom of the staircase to receive a lower grade than the ones higher up on the staircase.

According to this theory, quality is understood as a function of being toward the top, and thus the best exams clearly are to be found in this position. Others, however, propose an alternative theory (Figure 5 below).

They contend that that the exams at the bottom deserve higher grades than the ones at the top. While many professors still practice the top-higher-grade approach, the leading authorities subscribe to the bottom-higher-grade theory, despite its counterintuitive appearance. The rationale for this view is that the exams that fall lower on the staircase have more heft and have traveled farther. The greater distance traveled indicates greater knowledge of the subject matter. The bottom higher-grade approach is clearly the most logical and best-justified approach.

Even with the grade curve lines established, grading is far from completed. Several exams teeter between levels. The key is to measure the extent of what is referred to as “exam protrusion.” Exams that have small portions extending below the grade line should receive a minus; exams with protrusions above the grade lines receive a plus.

But what about exams that are right in the middle of a line. In Figure 6 below, this exam teeters between the A and B line. Should it receive and A- or a B+?

This is a difficult question, but I believe it is clearly an A-. The exam is already bending toward the next stair, and in the bottom-higher-grade approach, it is leaning toward the A-. Therefore, this student deserves the A- since momentum is clearly in that direction.

Finally, there are some finer points about grading that only true masters have understood. Consider the exam in Figure 7 below. Although it appears on the C stair and seems to be protruding onto the B stair, at first glance, one would think it should receive a grade of C+. But not so. A careful examination reveals that the exam is crumpled. Clearly this is an indication of a sloppy exam performance, and the grade must reflect this fact. The appropriate grade is C-.

One final example, consider in Figure 8 below the circled exam that is is very far away from the others at the bottom of the staircase. Is this an A+?

Novices would think so, as the exam has separated itself a considerable distance from the rest of the pack. However, the correct grade for this exam is a B. The exam has traveled too far away from the pack, and will lead to extra effort on the part of the grader to retrieve the exam. Therefore, the exam must be penalized for this obvious flaw.

As you can see, grading takes considerable time and effort. But students can be assured that modern grading techniques will produce the most precise and accurate grading possible, assuming professors have achieved mastery of the necessary grading skills.

DISCLAIMER FOR THE GULLIBLE: The author posted this as a joke. He doesn’t grade like this. Instead, he uses an even more advanced method — an eBay grade auctioning system.

The author is a professor of law at the George Washington University Law School.

The 18 Grams @ Old School

Everytime I walk up the flight of stairs to Sinema Old School, I know there’s always something different to look forward to. After all, it’s not your regular movie theater where you often have jostle with the crowd to get tickets at the box office, and then settle for some overpriced popcorn and nachos to munch throughout the film.

Old School’s located up at Mount Sophia alongside several contemporary studio apartments with see-through glass windows, flaunting their elaborately decorated interiors. But Old School doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb, it instead nicely blends into its surrounding structures with its retro architecture, with being it once occupied by the Methodist Girls’ School. For those who haven’t been to Sinema, you buy tickets from inside the humble snack shop through its little ‘box office’ window, and then head up to its cosy theatre to enjoy the film screening, most of them being local independent productions.

And my feet dragged my many kilograms of body mass up the flight of stairs up Mount Sophia to purchase 8 grams of paper (okay the tickets) in exchange for entry to watch a film called 18 Grams of Love. The film, which is about two buddies who suspect that their wives are having extramarital affairs and then conspire to try test if their wives are faithful by writing anonymous love letters to them, has won Public Awards in a couple of film festivals.

Ong Sor Fern has reviewed the film, calling it a “clever script that offers witty insight into the gender gap, with the cast uniformly good and rises to the wacky and stylised presentation with verve.” To me, the film is just a mini lesson about humans and their tendency to misunderstand, misinterpret and jump into conclusions easily, presented in a quirky way. The premise of the film is just that simple. There are no moments that will sweep you off your feet, leaving you with a bittersweet feeling, or other mindblowing scenes typical of many films of the romance genre. Neither it’s the lovey dovey kind of film that runs on sensationalism. But every scene never fails to entertain, with the brilliant utilisation of causality to drive the story being at its best. The film just raises these issues in a very light hearted manner, but at the end of it will certainly set you thinking.

And so I wonder why are we getting ‘other stuff’ on the bigger screens where works like these are still reserved largely for the small but I believe, growing number of independent film lovers. While the standard of our local films has been going up, the majority are still stuck with the perception that there’s only one active filmmaker regularly making films. (lately, maybe got one more) These studios have probably got the marketing powerhouse for aggressive advertising, leaving independent productions with little room to shine in front of our mainstream audiences – at the moment. They’re still relying a lot on the word of mouth, from people who’ve seen the films and then recommending the films to them.

So now I’ve seen what I thought was a great production, especially for those who love Mandarin films, I think this will really be an awesome local film to end the year 2008 with.

The Distance

At the 21km mark, the run was reduced to a mindless activity that tried in vain to get attention from my stagnant brain.

With the blast of the air horn I was on the way down Collyer Quay along with 15,000 runners in the cool morning breeze while the rest of Singapore were still enjoying their beauty sleep. These runners who chose to spend $70 to torture themselves probably had earned laughter from a fraction of Singaporeans who still deem the act as a crazy one. Nevertheless, running the length of the PIE, which stretches from one end of the island to another, apparently generates immense satisfaction where only those people who have been through what some refer to as the “rite of passage..and the coolest test out there of fitness and health” can fathom. I officially became a member of the clan on Sunday.

The distance account began receiving deposits at 5:30 am, with the company of thousands of sticky bodies ferried from all over the island. Flatulence engulfed air in the area where I stood patiently for the crowd to move off, but didn’t seem to affect the couple of ladies who chatted incessantly before they started running. There were aunties and uncles who came armed with SBO-like straps which fastened muesli bars and water bottles that looked like mini-grenades to their waists – their very own ammunition to take down the 42.195 enemy. Me and my running companion sailed down the Coleman bridge, slow but steady, knowing in our little hearts that each and every small step we take will bring us closer to the finishing point.

Prior to this, I’ve never had much experience in conquering distances more than 10km, with my personal maximum covered being only 18km – and that was at the peak of my fitness level during National Service. Without devoting ample time for more challenging endeavors to condition the body,  I was in jeopardy of losing the 70 bucks I’ve paid for the run, with my main objective being to complete the run and get the finisher shirt I’ve been itching to get ever since I first saw it.

42km takes 31 mins to cover by car. – Google Maps

And true enough, despite the cool December weather that facilitated the somewhat smooth start for the first 10kms or so, the next few saw me struggling to make meaning out of the increasingly dull surroundings of the trees-lined East Coast Park. As we cruised on to the 21km mark, the run was reduced to a mindless activity that tried in vain to get attention from my stagnant brain. I couldn’t think anymore. I was just looking forward to increase the mileage gradually and aim for the refueling stations ahead, where they give you isotonic beverages, as target points to hit.

Soon after, I succumbed to the temptation of walking and gave no further thought on how to formulate any strategies to cover the rest of the distance. I went as far as my legs could take me to – the rest, I didn’t care anymore. Nobody else seemed to care either, with their hair all over the place, shirts tucked out and perspiration all over their forehead. Each stride I took, my thighs seem to have gained excessive weight I speculate could’ve been channeled downwards from all the fluids I’ve drank along the way.

And then I hit a brick wall.

At the 38km mark, my legs, which were already covered with deep heat lotion, almost refused to budge. Every kilometer became harder and harder to conquer, every drinking point became seemingly out of reach. The exasperation set in, knocking my head hard to get me back to reality.

“Hello Pang! Don’t gey kiang and be macho and torture yourself lah! Can means can, cannot means cannot!”

And fortunately, that inner voice of mine I was trying hard to prove wrong didn’t get the better of me. I walked on with bigger strides, together with my running companion who displayed impeccable fitness, pressed on. Under the cheers of the ‘runspiratiors’, who didn’t become ‘ruinspirators’ because they’ve come since early morning and almost started dozing off, we both advanced, relying purely on our sheer mental strength, going as far as my legs could take us to, determined to fight the 42.195 monster till the end.

My drool does not get credit for the safety pin rust.

When we reached the last kilometer, the familiar Singapore city skyline came into view. As we jogged past the Esplanade, ignoring all our cramps and discomfort,  we lunged forward to the finishing line situated in front of City Hall with grace. I pumped up my fist in the air for the cameras to capture my very own historic moment, and the 42.195 monster finally crumbled to its death.

And that’s it, the account of my first ever Singapore Standard Chartered Marathon completed in the year 2008, albeit with parts of it spiced up for dramatic purposes. Nevertheless, I see it as a personal milestone I’ve hit at the tender young age of 23, accomplishing one of the personal goals I’ve been bent on achieving before I return to the soil. Satisfied? On completing – YES! What about the time taken – NO!