What Does "Rigor" Look Like in an English Classroom?

[Jennifer Smyth]

I've been frustrated lately by the way we use the word "rigor." It seems to be a buzzword right now (my state is focused on "Rigor, Relevance, and Relationships" as the three Rs), but I'm having trouble finding a good definition. I know that rigor means challenge, but what does that challenge look like? How do I know that what I think is challenging is truly rigorous? What if I'm wrong? Policy-makers seem to be setting this as the "new" standard for instruction without clearly defining it, and that feels like being set up for failure. I'm even having trouble defining my frustrations with the term, and part of that comes from the ambiguity of the term (or the way we use it).

So, here's my attempt to resolve some of that ambiguity:

To me, rigor means activities, rather than worksheets. Rigor means creativity.
To me, rigor means paperbacks, photocopies, and the internet, not textbooks.
To me, rigor means reading, writing, thinking, and talking. Every day.
To me, rigor means using technology. Every day.
To me, rigor means reading challenging texts. Texts that do more than tell a story. Texts that do it with style, structure, and meaning. Texts that force us to re-examine the meanings we make for ourselves.
Rigor means analyzing texts for more than plot, character, theme, and symbol. It means looking at style and structure, and analyzing their effects on meaning. When I really want to be rigorous, we analyze diction.
To me, rigor means reading texts in a variety of genres. And, yeah, to me, rigor means arranging those texts by theme, rather than genre.
To me, rigor means reading critical texts too, instead of relying solely on informational and argumentative texts for nonfiction. And by the way, this goes beyond book reviews, though they're a nice place to start.
To me, rigor means writing about what we read. Rigor requires analysis. It also means writing about what we see, what we live, and what we imagine. But for me, analysis comes first, if I'm looking for rigor. For me, rigor might be more important than authenticity.
To me, rigor means writing for style, not just correctness or completeness. It's about going beyond subject-verb agreement and comma rules, and learning how to add variety. It's about linking the structure and stylistic devices we read to the way we write. Sometimes, it's about mimesis.
To me, rigor means being uncomfortable. That's when we learn the most.
To me, rigor means preparation for college. Yeah, I said it. The way we use the word "rigor" includes implications about class.
To me, rigor means scaffolding. Rigor requires differentiation.
To me, rigor means students talk more than I do, so that I'm not doing all the work. Ideally, they're working harder than I am, at least during the day. Rigor means I have more work to do at home.

So, now I have a clear definition for myself, but the nagging question remains: What if I'm wrong?

[Paul W. Hankins]

Teaching What Matters published by the Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development offers a lot of information, even by way of attempting to define rigor and its place within instruction. As I look through the text quickly, the authors cite: complexity, ambiguity, the provocative nature of the lesson, and the emotional challenge of a lesson. I will post more later. I am really enjoying this book and what it has to say on the topic.

[Tamara Doehring]

All great points. Great question.
Mark really nails it with the difference between the teachers and the powers that be. I have recently found that many in power have made rigor to be (in essence) what the teacher can do to improve the student learning. I have redefined it for myself as simply...what can the student do to improve their learning.

[Kate Thomas]

Fabulous list! I am an advocate and implement everything on your list- wait, let me look at it again before I make promises! Academic rigor is also a concept promoted at my school, and we often wonder what does that look like? I have something for you to consider adding to your list, which may seem trivial, but "free time" occurs all too often in classrooms. My school promotes "bell to bell instruction;" therefore, students must be working the entire class period. If they finish the assignment/lesson early, the teacher should have an extension/independent assignment prepared like independent reading. I know it seems obvious to most because who has time for free time, really, but apparently, plenty of classes find time for that.
Oh, and I think rigor means meaningful homework, as well. I know there are cases against homework, if you will, but I don't have time for everything to be accomplished in class.

[Megan Kelly]

I'm so happy I read this blog. I printed out what you wrote because I want to be able to look at it as I plan my lessons. I really agree with you.

[Suzanne Rogers]

Rigor must have relevance. How do you prove Rigor? Grades in the gradebook show parents that you are doing something. AP courses imply that your are offering rigor. Test scores show that you have met the state minimums....not that there is rigor in the classroom.
Rigor for me means challenging the students daily. Challenging them to achieve more, to think more, to read more, to write more and to ultimately be successful in college. Rigor is then relevant to college success.

[Mark Gardner]

I agree. BUT, to my bosses...

Rigor means more homework, more entries in the gradebook to show you've done more.
Rigor means more AP offerings than the school down the road.
Rigor means more kids who pass the state test than in that school down the road.

You see the problem: to you and me, rigor is quality. To them (in my neck of the woods, at least), it is quantity. Sometimes an excess of quantity does nothing but erode quality.

[Valerie A. Person]

Jenn,

Your blog speaks loudly to me. I, too, feel like I'm in this quest to discover what "authentic rigor" is as well as what it is not. One of the struggles I have regularly is trying to balance quality with quantity. To me, rigor is about quality, but there's still a lot of ambiguity on where the line is between quantity and quality. In recent years, I've focused on going deeper in my curriculum as opposed to going wider. But, there's still a dissonance (which according to your blog is a good thing, and I happen to agree with that). That dissonance keeps me on the Goldilocks journey to find the "just right" balance. Lest I settle and begin to feel that I've finally found it, here comes along an article on "Teaching content is teaching reading" to make me once again go and question my curriculum goals and instruction. I used to think that the year or now even semester I could finish and feel like I had done a great job overall with everything would be the year I "deserved" an award like the school's TOY. Yes, I'll confess that I yearn to be recognized in that way. But, the longer I teach, the more elusive that euphoria becomes. While in the mode of confession, I'll share another sidebar. Two years ago, I was nominated for NCETA's TOY and I was honored to have been nominated. I even began the application process, going so far as to secure recommendation letters, but then I shopped short. I grappled with feeling "worthy" enough to submit the application because I didn't feel like I was coming off a great year. Maybe I'm misguided, but I'm striving for the day when what my colleagues and students' think about my teaching matches what I personally feel about my teaching. I think I'm my toughest critic and I haven't yet reached the bar I've set for myself. (Not sure I will ever, ironically.) All this to say that the nagging question is what goads me on my journey; a journey that has led to more questions than answers, but one I pursue nevertheless. So, here's to continued dialogue on this question of rigor. I may not have the answers but I'm more than willing to share my discoveries.