Fostering Resilience with Alternative Grading
How do we build a classroom that serves all of our students?
Christi Erba is an astronomer who studies the life cycles and evolution of massive stars. As a Research Assistant Professor in the Department of Physics & Astronomy at East Tennessee State University, she served as a McNair mentor and educator for 3 years. She will be joining the faculty at California State University, Fresno as an assistant professor and as the director of Downing Planetarium in Fall 2026.
As a (relatively) recent Physics student, I remember thinking that something was fundamentally broken in the way my classrooms attempted to inspire learning. Long, content-dense lectures, 20-hour problem sets with minimal feedback, and wild goose chases through the textbook left something to be desired. The syllabus outlined the topics I was supposed to absorb, but lacked specifics on the skill sets I would develop. Perhaps most significantly, everything was a test. As someone with diverse learning and support needs, I relied on homework assignments to offset the challenges I faced with traditional exams (2+ hours with a booklet and a pen, answering as many questions as possible before time ran out). There was no room to fail, since a certain GPA was required to keep my scholarship (undergrad) or my place in the program (grad school). What I learned, in addition to Maxwell’s Equations and the Laws of Thermodynamics, was that I was only as worthy as my grades purportedly represented. It did not matter how much of the material I mastered; if that was not reflected in my numerical grades, it didn’t count.
I first discovered alternative grading as a graduate student, when I dove into the world of pedagogy to prepare for a career in higher education. I was astounded to learn about the body of evidence supporting a framework for student learning and assessment that addressed many of the challenges I faced with my own coursework. The notion that a classroom could support, and indeed even encourage, unsuccessful attempts as a part of learning was novel. No longer was “failure” a terminal diagnosis; instead, it was one stop in the journey toward success.
Now on the other side of the desk, and after implementing alternative, specifications-based grading within my own classrooms, I have a more nuanced perspective. At its core, alternative grading cultivates resilience. Its four principal pillars – clearly defined standards, helpful feedback, marks that indicate progress, and reattempts without penalty – encourage students to approach academic challenges with the same resilience they have demonstrated elsewhere in their lives. Specific learning objectives set student expectations and act as a guide through scaffolded assignments. Constructive, non-judgemental feedback, with grades that measure progress (not perfection), refocus student learning on mastery of the core concepts instead of chasing points toward a “magic” number. Allowing reattempts without penalty, even if just one opportunity for revision per assignment, validates that mistakes are a key step in – and not an impediment to – the learning process. Together, these pillars reinforce resiliency through deliberate practice and constructive critique.
Teaching in East Tennessee
During my appointment as a Research Assistant Professor at East Tennessee State University (ETSU), I used specifications-based grading in the classes that I designed and taught with the University’s Ronald E. McNair Postbaccalaureate Achievement Program. The McNair internship provides career-focused training to a broad range of first-generation, under-resourced college students in anticipation of progression toward or through graduate-level degrees. The intern program can generally be divided into two parts: an 8-week summer program and a year-long “Advanced Research Internship” (ARI) to which students may be invited after successful completion of the summer pre-research internship. The summer student cohort is typically about 12 students with majors that span the social and natural sciences and liberal arts.
ETSU is nestled in the heart of Johnson City, on the eastern border of Tennessee, about 40 minutes from North Carolina’s western edge. The region is rich in history, culture, and natural beauty: the Blue Ridge Mountains, a sub-range of the Appalachians1, run through the town, and the Appalachian heritage remains an important part of the identity of many surrounding communities. However, as reflected in a recent regional economic report2, East Tennessee also has higher poverty and lower higher education rates than other sectors of the state. These demographics are reflected in ETSU’s student population, many of whom hold external jobs or help to support families while attending college. It is also not unusual to have students who are married, caring for young children, or who are returning to school after military service or starting another career. As educators with the McNair program, we sought to introduce interns to the ethos and etiquette of the professional sector while helping them discover their passion for a future career.
I have found there can be a kind of siren song in the educational reverie of the capsule classroom, a place where ideas are exchanged and knowledge is transmitted absent of the distractions of everyday life. In this dream, students come in well-prepared, with an understanding of professional standards and an open schedule for diving deeper into classroom topics outside of class hours. For our students from varied (and often non-traditional) backgrounds, this phantasm is aspirational at best: the world outside the classroom is ever-present, and its realities and responsibilities cannot be ignored. Homework and grades may be important, but not as critical as making sure the kids are fed and the dog is walked. The essay may have been assigned a week ago, but this is the first night off from work since then, so there was no choice but to “start late.” Students may be digitally connected enough to use social media as a second income stream, but a lack of funding to the local middle school meant that the computer applications course got cut, so they lack functional proficiency with “standard” office word processing and spreadsheet software.
Our McNair interns didn’t lack resilience; indeed, many had overcome significant challenges in their personal lives and in their educational programs. But as I learned from my own story, it can be challenging to transfer those hard-earned skills into an unfamiliar setting, especially when that setting wasn’t built to accommodate your circumstances. My role as a McNair mentor was to construct a safe and supportive environment where all of my students could thrive.
A case study: building resilience through Presentation Skills
Over two summers, I restructured and taught the McNair program’s required Presentation Skills course, in which students learned how to give oral presentations in their chosen disciplines. The syllabus incorporated ways to build the technical skills needed to construct a slide-based presentation and develop a research narrative that could connect with both general and expert audiences. We also included topics such as “how to conduct yourself professionally” and “how to introduce yourself via email” to strengthen the cohort’s professional skill set.
Incoming McNair interns often have limited experience with public speaking, and understandably, many approached the task with sheer panic. The challenge, therefore, was to use the framework of the class to deescalate common fear triggers associated with public speaking through repeated, deliberate practice. On in-class presentation days, I provided silly costumes (like feather boas, Mardi Gras beads, and comically large sunglasses) to break the tension. During instruction-focused periods, we analyzed creative TED talks to explore and evaluate the efficacy of different presentation styles. Laughter was indeed the best medicine.
Throughout the semester, students prepared a series of five-minute “mini-talks” using artificial presentation formats that isolated individual components of a complete conference presentation. For example, one prompt asked students to, “Create a 5-7 slide, 5-minute oral presentation on a topic of your choice using only images.” A later assignment repeated the exercise using only text. Each of these assignments included both a take-home component (slide design) and an in-class component (presentation delivery), which were graded separately. Slide designs could be revised and resubmitted, but due to practical constraints, presentations could not.
Presentation Skills was built around clearly defined learning objectives supported by a specifications-based grading framework. With the exception of the final exam, assignments were evaluated using a modified four-point Likert scale modeled after the feedback style used in academic peer review:
3: No revisions required: the assignment is complete and reasonably accurate, with minor comments only.
2: Minor revisions required: assignment is complete, but contains several minor errors that require correction.
1: Major revisions required: assignment is complete, but contains a number of serious errors that require correction.
0: Assignment not acceptable for credit: assignment was not turned in, is not complete, or violates student codes of conduct (e.g., plagiarized).
Interns could revise and resubmit applicable assignments once after receiving their “referee’s report.” This gave them an opportunity to review and implement feedback and improve their submissions while keeping the grading manageable for my one-woman team.
The alternative grading framework helped students recognize and apply resilience throughout the semester:
Clearly defined standards: Homework prompts were paired with each week’s learning objective, and assignments were intentionally simplified to focus on a single presentation skill. This allowed students to practice one aspect of presenting at a time rather than splitting focus between multiple topics. The streamlined formats (such as “text only” or “image only” presentations) encouraged creativity and challenged students to think of new ways to engage with their audience. The grading standards accompanied every prompt, so expectations were transparent from the start.
Helpful feedback: Students received individualized comments on both their slide designs and presentations. Wherever an opportunity for growth existed, comments included specific suggestions for improvement. Even those earning the highest mark (“3”), indicating they had met the assignment standards, still received constructive feedback. Over the course of the semester, this iterative process helped interns earn increasingly higher grades on their initial submissions.
Marks that indicate progress & Reattempts without penalty: The grading scale described above was designed to encourage progress rather than perfection. Students who revised their work and incorporated feedback consistently improved both their overall performance and their scores. More importantly, the ability to resubmit work after reviewing feedback encouraged students to experiment with bold, new ideas. As the semester progressed, their work became noticeably more creative and personally expressive, while still adhering to professional standards.
Using alternative grading in Presentation Skills allowed me to meet each student’s individual needs without compromising instructional quality or overburdening myself with extra meetings and grading. Although numerical marks were still assigned on a 0-3 point scale, the how and why grades were earned, and the path for improving those grades, were transparently defined and clearly communicated. This system doesn’t penalize students for not knowing. Instead, it encourages originality while supporting skill-building, which ultimately translates resilience into the classroom. By emphasizing “what did you learn?” rather than “how many mistakes did you make?”, we redefined what success in class could mean.
Resilience beyond the classroom
At the end of the semester, interns presented their summer research at the annual ETSU McNair Research Conference. Drawing on the toolkit developed in Presentation Skills, they prepared research conference-style presentations and delivered them to a broad audience of friends, family, professional mentors, and a panel of judges who awarded prizes for the strongest presentations. This first “real world” conference showcased what students had learned over the short summer semester, not just in terms of balanced slides or a concise narrative, but in how to grow through their fear and discomfort of public speaking to deliver a compelling presentation.
During the following academic year, many students also presented their work at regional undergraduate research conferences, national society meetings, or local public outreach events, demonstrating their preparedness to communicate professionally within their disciplines. It would be disingenuous to claim that Presentation Skills taught students to overcome their apprehension; indeed, in many cases, it did not! Instead, what we hoped students would take away from the course, to borrow the words of Dr. Brené Brown, is that “Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.”3 Perhaps the best measurable outcome of the course’s success was seeing the resilience that our students developed as they continued to show up and engage with professional challenges.
Overall, the ETSU McNair internship program has been highly successful in supporting its students. Most participants earn the program’s premier Scholar designation at the conclusion of the Summer internship, and several receive invitations to participate in the ARI, which boosts them into the world of academic research. Among my ARI advisees, students have published papers in professional journals, secured competitive external internships and career placements, won presentation awards, and received university-sponsored travel grants to present their work. They have also become elected community leaders, contributors, and innovators through discipline-specific organizations such as the Society of Physics Students or the Sigma Pi Sigma Honor Society.
I am now an unapologetic apologist for alternative grading because I have seen its tremendous success in supporting students from all walks of life. Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math (STEM) fields like Physics and Astronomy face challenges in retaining students from diverse backgrounds. The reasons for such attrition are complex, but the absence of constructive support and the need for “a more ‘human’ approach to mentorship” have been identified as reasonable causes. The good news is that we have tools like alternative grading to promote positive learning environments. All of our students, regardless of their circumstances, deserve our time, attention, and an excellent education; alternative grading can help make that possible. Through fostering resilience in the classroom, we teach our students how to take ownership of their own education.
As I quickly learned upon landing, “Appalachian” is pronounced with a short “a” like in “cat”, but slurring through the “t” sound: Apple-atch-ins. The term “Appalachian” refers to an incredibly diverse ethnographic region and cultural heritage. You can read more from the Appalachian Regional Commission or in the Foxfire magazine and book series.
See the Tennessee’s Economy 2024-2025 - Section 2: Regional Economic Analysis. The national poverty average estimate comes from the U.S. Census Bureau’s QuickFacts page.
This quote is taken from Chapter 1: “The Physics of Vulnerability” in Brown, Brené. Rising Strong: How the Ability to Reset Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead. New York: Random House, 2017.
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This is all well and good, but the big question is how this will translate into the professional world following graduation. STEM fields don't take kindly to mistakes.