Assessment Is What We Make of It

Abstract

As a trigger word among college history faculty members, assessment is remarkably potent. Skepticism arises not illogically and from many sources: concerns about broader centralizing agendas lying beneath the surface; disturbing trends in K–12 education that have tied testing regimes to excessive standardization and teacher bashing; and assumptions that assessment implies inappropriate application of quantified metrics to historical thinking. Moreover, individualistic teaching cultures in history, as in other disciplines, nurture mistrust of administrative incursions on classroom autonomy. And like many of our colleagues, historians do not rush eagerly into either the discourse or practice of assessment. But we should be eager, even if we move with the proverbial all deliberate speed. Historians need—and should want—to talk about what our students are learning and why we do what we do. The language of “authentic learning” and “communities of practice” might not be the best way to begin that conversation, but discussion must begin nevertheless. Most historians on college faculties care deeply about what their students learn and retain, and how effectively students apply that learning to the discipline of history and to their broader education. These teachers assume that they regularly assess the quantity and quality of that learning when they grade students’ work—a process that involves substantial time and effort that too often goes unappreciated. As the essays here demonstrate, these conversations require considerable investment and department-wide engagement, conditions quite difficult to achieve. Opposition to assessment has generally arisen in reflexive response to pressure from administrative units or outside forces seeking to assess the work of educators. The rhetoric and apparent agendas of accreditors, legislators, and advocates of “disruption” in higher education imply values ignorant of—even hostile to—the mission of a liberal education. Hence many faculty members tend to resist even qualitative data collection and analysis about student pathways, course sequences, and the overall effectiveness and impact of the major, let alone the relationship between our individual courses and broader institutional goals. To enter the thicket of student learning outcomes, mandatory and perhaps even standardized assessment frameworks and performance-based resource allocation seems just a first step away from the open spaces of scholarly inquiry and academic freedom. With no collaborative strategy for generating