Cheating

Today, almost every class had their semester final exam. At the mid-morning break, I left my classroom to talk to another teacher. As I walked past two students sitting on chairs by my classroom, I noticed that one of them was copying answers from a folded-up packet of papers onto a piece of loose-leaf paper. I slowed down and turned back toward my classroom, and the student who wasn’t copying immediately stood up and walked away. This seemed like odd behavior to me, so I asked the remaining student what he was holding, to which he replied, “It’s a practice test.” I noticed that it was some sort of math test with “ID: A” typed in the header, as if it were Test A and there was a possible Test B, so I asked, “Why would a practice exam have a letter like that at the top?” The student repeated that it was a practice test, and started folding it up so I couldn’t really see what was written on it anymore. I said, “That’s fine, I was just checking,” and walked away. In the next hallway, I saw a teacher holding some exams, so I asked if she was a math teacher. When she said yes, I mentioned that I had just seen a student writing down answers from what looked like a math test, but it could have easily been a practice test instead.

When I had been a student in grade school, and even at university, I witnessed a fair amount of cheating, from writing formulas in the brim of a hat to passed notes with answer keys. While I never chose to cheat in school, I never thought about why other students may choose to cheat. However, this was my first experience with a case of potential cheating as an authority figure. During my entire interaction with these students, I could not stop thinking about my peers who cheated in school and the way they would act before getting in trouble: making weird excuses, hiding what they were doing, even running away from the situation. Even so, I did not let myself accuse the students of anything. Because almost every teacher in my summer school is encouraged to give a practice test similar to what is on the final exam, it is a definite possibility that the student was telling the truth. Even though the students’ behaviors seemed out of the ordinary to me—for example, what is the benefit in copying answers off of something meant to help you succeed on a final?—without hard evidence, I could not bring myself to antagonize him. Besides mentioning the situation to the teacher in passing in case she recognized the papers as part of the final, I was in no situation to take action.

Overall, I think that my reaction to this situation was appropriate. I would much rather let a student get away with cheating if I do not have evidence than accuse a student of misconduct when he or she is actually innocent. These events, though, have made me think about how much I should address cheating and other moral issues, such as stealing or plagiarism, in my classroom in the fall. Just as most programs, academic or not, distribute handbooks that detail all the set rules and punishments, I think that I should be specific in what acts are unacceptable in my classroom. Instead of issuing set protocols, however, I would like to have a discussion about classroom norms and potential consequences that both the students and I can deem as reasonable. In addition, I feel comfortable continuing to give students the benefit of the doubt when questions of conduct do arise; I think this policy will lead to students have more respect for me and the rules we set together.