Four "L"s of My Assessment Project

You may ask yourself, "Am I right, am I wrong?"

Another moment of reflection – time that some would like to spend with tea and chocolate, I personally prefer something more substantial. Ok, recently, I wrapped up (or, more accurately, attempted to wrap up) an assessment pilot with one lovely Russian School, “Mnogoznaika” (name changed per request from the school staff), a weekend program for heritage and foreign Russian language learners. Think: small classes, various levels of language proficiency, big enthusiasm, and, perhaps most notably, a series of significant surprises.

Here’s my look back at the experience through the classic 4Ls: Loved, Loathed, Learned, and Longed For.

Loved: The Bright Spots (Yes, there were some!)

Let’s start with the good news because optimism is essential for morale. I loved how well the idea of formative portfolios was received. I had been worried that everything I proposed would be rejected or met with disapproval. However, the program director, the curriculum specialist, and the teachers seemed to be excited at first: there were rubrics, sample tasks, and the whole thing looked like “Yes, we can totally do this!” Students could not care less about the rubrics themselves but especially enjoyed listening to their own recordings and realizing that they sounded slightly more grown-up than they did last month.

The pilot portfolios we did manage to collect were incredibly insightful. The reading samples showed how most first graders could read pretty well, but couldn’t remember what they read, which honestly reminded me of myself reading IKEA instructions or lists of class assignments.

Writing samples revealed predictable heritage vs. foreign learner differences. The spelling was hilarious! And the oral narration? Pure gold – full of fluent storytelling, mixing up English, Russian (often with the addition of other languages, like French, German, or Hebrew), missing case endings ALL THE TIME, and the occasional heroic attempt at sentence construction. Everything sounded just great. Need to remind: I am not a language teacher, and my sometimes hysterical (in the sense of hysterically laughing) reaction by no means was a criticism of the kids' knowledge of Russian or the way they were taught at school or in their families. I am just a mom of three bilingual kids, bless their hearts…

And let’s not forget: the school leadership was supportive and genuinely appreciative of the process. Always a plus.

Loathed: The “Oh No, WTH (Why Is This Happening)?” Moments

Ah yes. That was inevitable. First, the unexpected staffing drama. Two part-time teachers reduced their hours without warning. Teaching assistants were willing, but… let's just say they deserved their own training workshop before being thrown into the assessment. And thankfully, they did not even mention that they were not paid for the additional work. Suddenly, everyone was juggling, improvising, and likely questioning their life choices.

Then came the cultural events (don’t ask about the details): rehearsals, costumes, poetry recitations, etc., etc. Was that compatible with a structured 4-week assessment cycle? Absolutely not. Assessment tasks just dissolved like blintzes from a plate.

Technology didn’t help, either. Teachers resorted to personal phones and old-fashioned paper worksheets, as school-provided devices were not available when they were mostly needed, or just refused to work.

And of course, some teachers eventually decided the whole thing “showed no results” and might even upset parents. Which it did, I am sure.

Learned: The “Reality Check” Moments

Despite the chaos, I learned a lot, and more than I expected.

implementation must match reality, not wishful thinking. A four-week cycle sounds lovely on paper, but not when half the staff is juggling two jobs and the school is hosting Chekhov readings.

Heritage and foreign learners really do need different paths, and the data we gathered – although limited – made that painfully obvious. Heritage learners sounded confident but dropped grammatical endings like hot potatoes. Foreign learners wrote neatly but cautiously, using sentences about as structurally exciting as IKEA furniture descriptions.

Students can be engaged in seeing their progress. They enjoyed comparing their recordings, which tells me the portfolio system has huge potential for motivation. If kids are excited to hear themselves and see themselves on video speaking Russian, that’s a win. 

And maybe the most significant lesson: teachers need ongoing, bite-sized support, not one big (long and extremely boring) training and a “Good luck out there!” wave.

Longed For: What I Wish We Could Change Next Time

If I had a magic wand (or at least a reliable budget and calendar), here’s what I’d do differently:

• Start smaller. One skill per cycle. 

• Create micro-training sessions/presentations instead of a single big kickoff. Preferably, the kind teachers can watch at their own pace.

• Schedule “portfolio days” right into the school calendar so that events and holidays don’t eat them up.

• Pick ONE simple tech tool, not a bring-your-own-device scavenger hunt for teachers.

And one final note. We needed more coffee and chocolate in staff meetings. A final informal gathering with teachers and assistants to celebrate the end of the project with something stronger than just coffee would also be appreciated. It boosts morale and supports formative assessment resilience. (Probably. I hope so.)

PS: I created the illustrations above specifically for this blog post, and plan on drawing more to illustrate different crazy states of mind that are so familiar to everyone who had ever worked at school.