authentic intellectual work involves original application of knowledge and skills, rather than just routine use of facts and procedures. It also entails careful study of the details of a particular problem and results in a product or presentation that has meaning beyond success in school.3
It is clearly the case that for decades social studies teachers have integrated some level of authentic assessment into their classrooms; almost any piece of writing is authentic to the discipline even if it is in a traditional essay format. However, it is my assertion that social studies teachers can and should do much more to increase the authenticity of our assessments both in terms of the various types of tasks we ask (or allow) students to do as well as the format and context in which they do them.
The term “authentic assessment” derives from the premise that most people in their careers, no matter what the field, do not take tests on a regular basis. Tests are artificial creations that exist almost solely in the classroom. Pope, Brown, and Miles provide a wonderful illustration of the absurdity of tests:
Imagine if, in the working world, your boss told you early in the week that you would have a test later that week. He couldn’t tell you exactly what would be on the test, but it would definitely be timed, and you would not be allowed to use any of the typical resources on which you were used to relying, such as your working notes, your colleagues, the Internet, and so on. He would be the sole designer and assessor of this test; there would be no ability to ask questions or retake the test, and your score would greatly impact your next pay bonus. Sounds crazy, right? But in schools, this scenario may take place multiple times per week, and the students are suffering because of it.5
In higher education and in the professional world, people produce real artifacts of far greater complexity than tests. They write, present, film, record, and create. Even in my graduate program in history, I never took a test. I wrote and I presented. As a teacher, I took a couple of exams for certification and the rest of my career has involved creating written artifacts (worksheets, PowerPoints, role-plays, mock trials, and lessons) and about five presentations a day. We know teaching is a challenging profession because no other job asks people to give five presentations a day to an audience that really doesn’t want to be there! Even my professional evaluations have been based on observations, conversations, and my portfolios. Thankfully, never on my capacity to keep my shirt tucked in. I hope.
The term “authentic” is useful as a barometer for valuable tasks. While I will continue to use the phrase “authentic assessment” throughout this book, given its wide acceptance in the field of education, I hope to expand our thinking around assessments to include the four main criteria of the acronym JADE: Joyful, Authentic, Dynamic, and Effective. When we connect students to tasks that are student-centered, interactive, fun, and real, then the end result is that we achieve that final criteria of effectiveness. Formal essay writing might be authentic, to some degree, but my claim is that poems, civic action, mock UN conferences, museum galleries, monument-building, and historical fiction are the types of assessments that truly shine like JADE.
Perhaps the educators whose work most closely aligns with my expanded notion of authentic assessment are Jal Mehta and Sarah Fine. Mehta is a professor of education at Harvard University and Sarah Fine runs a teacher preparation program in San Diego. Together, they authored the book In Search of Deeper Learning: The Quest to Remake the American High School. The concept of Deep Learning looks at six core competencies: content mastery, effective communication, critical thinking & problem solving, collaboration, self-directed learning, and academic mindset.6 In their New York Times article “High School Doesn’t Have to be Boring,” Mehta and Fine argue that in schools boredom is rampant and “in lower-level courses, students were often largely disengaged; in honors courses, students scrambled for grades at the expense of intellectual curiosity.”
Not surprisingly, they found core academic courses to be intellectually stultifying whereas “powerful learning was happening most often at the periphery – in electives, clubs and extracurriculars … [the] lively, productive places where teachers and students engaged together in consequential work.” Deeper learning asks us to invert our notion of authentic education. We need to look at clubs as the model for learning since, “the truly powerful core classes echoed what we saw in extracurriculars. Rather than touring students through the textbook, teachers invited students to participate in the authentic work of the field.” Instead of rote memorization and formulaic learning, Mehta and Fine recommend that schools deepen their attachment to the outside world and that “high school students need to be granted much more agency, responsibility and choice.” Assessments need to be authentic, but they also must fight the boredom and apathy by bringing joy, meaning, and leadership into the experience.7