Overview:
Behavioral grading requires distinguishing between students who “can” do the work and those who “won’t,” advocating for grading practices that reflect effort and status rather than strict standards that may unfairly punish struggling students.
I wanted to take a break from my usual sarcastic story telling – don’t worry, I have plenty of that – and address a serious concern: the ethical question that, yes, exists (despite how overused that word is) about student grading.
I work as a special education teacher in an urban public high school in the Northeastern United States. I won’t say where I’m at, because even speaking well can sometimes land you in the principal’s office with a union lawyer breathing down your neck.
My experience and my opinion may be very different from yours, so think of this as a collaborative discussion, or at least a collaborative effort.
A little background: I was born in 1986, graduated high school in 2004, and have been in education almost my entire adult life. That “traditional” sense of grading that I grew up with – the commercial model – stuck with me for years: the teacher is the manager, the student is the employee, and the manager evaluates the work, assigns a grade, and locks in your fate with an incremental value.
I actually started teaching. The truth hits fast. My first-year mentor warned me that my self-doubt and lack of respect for work would hurt me in the long run. “Rethink teaching P–12,” she said. He was right to warn me.
Now, teaching in an urban setting, I live with three situations every day that shape my perspective on grading:
Scenario #1: Urban Realities
Nature brings elements that no teacher can prevent: crime, unstable employment, poverty ranging from mild to extreme.
Situation #2: Students Far Below Grade Level
Many students arrive years below grade level. The tenth grade class at my school does not read The Tale of Two Cities or Antigone. They read YA novels or graphic novels, usually for younger readers. This is a fact, not a choice.
Situation #3: Involvement and Motivation Issues
Marriage is low. Most students would rather calculate the street value of the C10H15N than budget for a job or read a novel. (An exaggeration, yes, but it shows the gap between curriculum and life.)
So, how do we grade students appropriately under these circumstances? Are special education students placed in general education settings?
What is this Essay – and what is not
This is a thought experiment. I leave out many details of law, policy, teacher intent, and differing opinions. Men may appear. The goal is conversation, not finger pointing.
I neither support nor suspect. We all work under circumstances beyond our control.
Students Who Must Fail
Let’s start simple. A student with a disability who does not complete work, does not attend class, and does not show up must fail. Full stop. This is the “no drive/no show” method — in the real world, disconnection. Summer school, night school, good. But they fail.
Problems start with students who try but struggle. Students who come, participate, and make an effort but cannot read the material well. How do we grade correctly? Let’s leave special education aside for a moment and look at general education students.
Problem: Students Below Grade Level
Some students in general education work in fifth grade while doing tenth grade work. Expecting them to perform to a standard is not only unfair; it doesn’t make sense.
Example: Chemistry and Moles
Can you ethically fail a student who struggles with two-step algebra but is expected to calculate moles for a chemical reaction? Or did you describe a mole (not the kind that comes out of the ground)? The failure of these students feels unfair, because the system’s expectations do not match their abilities.
Special education students face the same problem, they have been raised. Others work at second or third grade levels while sitting in regular education classrooms. They face cognitive, social, and emotional challenges simultaneously.
“I Can’t Do It” vs. “You Can’t Do It”
My first principal taught me this difference. “Can’t Dos” can’t do work – these students need freedom. “Dos will not” refuse the job – these students deserve to fail.
To use a chemistry example: a student who can’t really count shouldn’t automatically get zero. Instead, I give a low – the lowest grade is 50 if they attempt the job. “Won Do” gets zero. This allows students to keep playing without lying about their success.
Point of Clarity: No, This Is Not Grade Inflation
50 is still F. It’s not a cake, a sticker, or a hug. It prevents students from dying statistically in two weeks of the quarter. If the student refuses to do the work, he gets a zero. If the student tries, engages, and shows progress, he gets an F that can be saved.
A scale of 0–100 is misleading. Grades below 50 are all unsuccessful, but an attempt at 50 signals. A student who builds the scaffolding of a problem but misses the last step is not like a child who puts his head down and scrolls through TikTok. Treating them the same way is cruel and counterproductive.
Concrete Example:
Solve x + 2 = 5? Good.
Solve x − 3 + 2 = 5 and the equation? If they separate the variables, put the words together, and show good effort, that’s 50. Honest about failure, humane about recovery.
A quick rubric for “Trying”
Showed steps, stayed on task, tried all stages, made one correction after feedback → qualified for 50 floor.
Blank, copied, name only, upside down, remove wire → 0.
Dealing with Conflicts
“Carney, this is grade inflation. Accuracy is critical!”
Yes. We don’t give A’s for wrong answers. We separate rejection from effort. Transcripts full of 50s still tell the truth, and students are not buried in the middle of the semester for trying.
“Can’t the kids play the system?”
Some of them. Teenagers are champions of minimal effort. That’s why we keep 0 for “Will Not Do” and keep it clear in the rubric: show your work, or it doesn’t count.
“Does 50 masks have serious problems?”
Only when adults stop paying attention. 50s repeat flag: skills inventory, decoding support, language testing, SPED consultation. The floor keeps the students in the game while the adults get involved.
The conclusion
Grading is more than a number. It’s fair, it works, and it’s human. Grades should reflect effort and ability, not crush students due to circumstances beyond their control. Distinguishing between “I can’t” and “I won’t” allows us to speak the truth without cruelty.
Until we define what grade measures – accuracy, effort, growth, or some combination – we run the risk of pretending that a number is objective when it is not.
The question remains: How can we grade students appropriately, behaviorally in a system that often fails them? There is no perfect answer, but we can do better than pretending that a failing grade tells the whole story.
