If this feels like too big a project, read this first
I built the Civic Action Project because I was tired of watching students memorize government facts for a test and forget them by Friday. What stopped me for a long time was not the idea. It was the work: dozens of activities to write, a rubric for every one, instructions, deadlines, a way to track it all. That is the wall most of us hit, and it is the reason good assessment ideas die in a Google Doc.
An AI assistant does not solve the hard part. You still decide what students need to learn and what is worth academic credit in your field, and no chatbot can do that for you. What it does solve is the production work: the drafting, the formatting, the tenth rubric at 11 p.m. That is the wall it knocks down, and knocking it down is enough.
Before you start, four things that are probably worrying you:
You will type in a box and read what comes back. That is the entire technical requirement. If you can use email, you can do this.
Budget an hour, split across two sittings. And you do not have to replace a whole exam on the first try. One unit, or extra credit, is a real place to start.
Some of it, yes. I cut or rewrote about a third of what mine produced. You are the editor, and rejecting things is how the drafts get better. Expect that, and it stops feeling like failure.
It still is. Every decision stays yours, starting with the learning goals. This is closer to a research assistant who types fast than to a colleague handing you a finished syllabus.
No. The AI helps you build the assignment once. Students attend, interview, visit, and document. None of that requires AI, and most of it cannot be done with AI at all, which is rather the point.
Maybe not unilaterally. Many departments require coordinator sign-off for assessment changes, common finals complicate things, and dual-credit sections have their own rules. The pilot in the next section is designed to fit inside almost anyone's authority, and it comes with the two-line email to ask.
Three words this page uses, in plain English
- AI assistant (or chatbot):
- a website where you type a message and get a written reply. ChatGPT, Claude, and Microsoft Copilot are the big three. You do not install anything.
- Prompt:
- the message you send. That is all it is. The long block this page builds for you is one big prompt.
- Chat box:
- the typing area at the bottom of the chatbot's screen, like the message field in a text conversation.
What a project-based assessment actually looks like
The version I use is a menu, not a single big project. Students pick activities from a list until they reach a point total. Six design pieces make it work, and they carry over to any discipline.
This is backwards design: decide what students should know and be able to do, then build the work that gets them there. Every activity in the menu has to serve at least one of your learning goals, or it gets cut. This is also what makes the whole thing defensible to your department and your accreditor.
A list of authentic tasks students choose from. Choice is the engine: a student with a night shift and three kids builds a different path than a student with free afternoons, and both do real work.
Higher effort, medium effort, and quick engagement, each with a point range. Tiers let students mix one ambitious task with several small ones instead of facing an all-or-nothing project.
One number students must reach. Mine is 100 points at 40% of the grade, replacing the exams entirely. Yours can be any size, from a full exam replacement to a few-week project, as long as the stakes feel real.
Interim deadlines across the project window. This is the single most important piece for community college students, and the one I would defend hardest. Without it, everything lands in the final week and the quality collapses. Decide up front what a missed checkpoint means: I treat each one as a hard minimum with a small grade attached, so a miss costs something real that week without torpedoing the whole project.
Each activity gets a short checklist of specific criteria. Meet all of them, earn full points. Miss one, revise and resubmit. This is what keeps the model from eating your evenings: grading a submission takes about two minutes, and disputes mostly vanish, because the remedy is always the same. There is no partial credit to litigate when the answer to every complaint is "fix the missing criterion and send it back."
The real cost, the real payoff, and a decision
"An hour" is true of the design conversation and false of adoption, and you have been burned by that kind of arithmetic before. So here is the whole bill up front, next to the bill you are already paying.
What it costs to build
One hour of AI conversation. Two to three hours revising what comes back into your voice and your standards. An hour or two loading it into your LMS.
Call it one working day, best spent in a term break.What it costs to run
Thirty students reaching 100 points at 10–15 points per activity is roughly 250–300 submissions per section. At about two minutes each against a checklist rubric, that is 8–10 hours of grading per semester, arriving in four predictable checkpoint waves instead of three exam-week spikes.
Roughly 2–2.5 hours per checkpoint week.What your exams cost now
Test-bank upkeep, proctoring arrangements, integrity cases, grade disputes, and the great hidden tax of exam courses: makeup exams. If you grade written exams, this model is a wash or better. If you run scantrons, it is honestly more grading time, traded for assessment you believe and the end of the proctoring arms race.
Count last semester's makeups before deciding.What my students said after a semester without exams
Course-improvement feedback from my own government sections, not IRB-approved research. A formal study with a validated instrument is in development. Grades held, complaints did not spike, and colleagues' first reaction has been to ask for the materials.
Are you free to change your assessment?
Full-timers usually are. Adjuncts and instructors on shared courses often are not, and finding out in week one of the semester is the wrong time.
Do your exams cost more than you admit?
Count last semester honestly: hours writing and updating tests, makeup sessions scheduled, integrity cases filed, grade disputes fielded. Most people who do this arithmetic stop defending the exam on workload grounds and start defending it on habit grounds, which is at least an honest place to decide from.
Would you rather test-drive than commit?
Then do not replace anything yet. The pilot below is the recommended first move for almost everyone, and it produces the one thing no webpage can: evidence from your own students.
Convinced already? Skip straight to Step One.Pilot three activities. Don't replace your exam yet.
Pick three activities, run them as extra credit this semester, and look hard at what students turn in. That is the whole pilot. It risks nothing, it fits inside almost any adjunct's authority, and it converts skeptics, including you, with your own students' work instead of my numbers.
When you reach Step One, choose "An optional extra-credit project" and "A few weeks" and the prompt automatically shrinks to pilot size. One more thing that costs nothing: recruit a colleague to build alongside you. A two-person pilot survives the semester in a way a solo one often does not.
Tell the AI about your course, learning goals first
Rough answers are fine everywhere below; a sentence or two each is plenty. The AI knows nothing about your course except what you write here, so this is the highest-value ten minutes on the page.
Copy this prompt into any AI assistant
Claude, ChatGPT, and Microsoft Copilot all work, and the free versions are fine. Copy the whole block, paste it into the chat box, and send it. That is the entire operation.
To paste it: click inside the chatbot's chat box, then press Ctrl+V (or Cmd+V on a Mac), then press Enter or the send arrow. You can also edit anything in the box above before copying; it is a starting point, not a spell.
One honest expectation before you send it
This prompt gets the conversation started on the right structure, and that is all a prompt can do. What comes back depends on which AI you use, the day you use it, and most of all on what you say next. The same prompt gives different results to different people, because the people steer differently. Your judgment in the follow-up replies, cutting weak ideas, correcting time estimates, demanding specifics, is what turns a decent draft into your assessment. The next section shows you exactly how to steer.
Have the conversation, and steer it
The prompt tells the AI to work in five stages and to stop after each one. That structure is deliberate: it keeps you from getting a wall of text you did not ask for, and it keeps you in the driver's seat. Here is what each stage looks like, what to do, and, because the steering is the part nobody shows you, what you might literally type.
It asks you questions
Before designing anything, it will ask a few short questions about your course, your students, or your goals.
Your move: answer casually, the way you would talk to a colleague in the hallway. Complete sentences are not required, and you can volunteer anything it did not think to ask.It proposes a skeleton
Effort tiers, a point target, checkpoint deadlines, and a short list of candidate activities, each mapped to one of your learning goals.
Your move: be opinionated. Cut anything that would not work for your students and say why. This is the single highest-leverage moment in the whole conversation, because every later draft inherits what you rejected here. And check the goal mapping: if an activity does not clearly serve a learning goal, it is decoration. Try typing: "Cut activities 2 and 6; my students can't travel on weekdays. Give me two replacements they can do entirely online, and tell me which learning goal each one serves."It builds the menu
Your approved activities, fully written out: title, student-facing description, point value, time estimate, the learning goal it serves, and what students have to turn in as evidence.
Your move: check the time estimates against your real students, not ideal ones. AI is consistently optimistic here. If something says two hours and you know it is four, say so. Try typing: "Double the time estimate on the interview activity, and change the evidence to something I can actually verify from my desk."It writes the rubrics
A short complete/incomplete checklist for each activity: three to five specific criteria, no partial credit, no judgment calls.
Your move: spend your revision energy here. Vague criteria are what generate grade disputes at 10 p.m., and a criterion you cannot verify from the submission is not a criterion. Try typing: "Criterion 2 is too vague. Rewrite it so I could check it in under a minute from what the student submits."It packages everything
A one-page student-facing assignment sheet explaining the system, including what students will learn in plain language, plus a short planning activity where students map out what they intend to do and when.
Your move: read the student handout out loud. If a sentence sounds like an administrator wrote it, rewrite it in your own voice before it goes anywhere near a student. Try typing: "Rewrite the handout at a plainer reading level, cut it to one page, and make the first paragraph explain why I ditched the exam."At the end you have an activity menu mapped to your learning goals, rubrics, a student handout, and a planning activity. All drafts. All yours. Then the real work starts, which is running it once and fixing what breaks.
Eight sentences that do most of the work
A prompt starts a conversation. These finish it. Every one of them works at any point, with any AI, in any discipline. If you remember nothing else from this page, remember that steering the conversation is the actual skill, and that it is made of ordinary sentences like these.
“That's too generic. Make it specific to my field and my students.”
The single most useful sentence in AI-assisted design. Vagueness is the default failure mode, and this is the cure. Say it as often as you need to.
“Which of my learning goals does this serve? If none, cut it.”
Keeps the backwards design honest. Ask it at every stage and watch decorative busywork disappear on its own.
“Would my students actually be able to do this in one week?”
AI is relentlessly optimistic about student time. Naming the real window forces it to shrink the task to something people with jobs can finish.
“Give me three options instead of one.”
Options cost the AI nothing and they make you the chooser rather than the receiver. Use it whenever a single suggestion feels close but wrong.
“I don't like this. Try a completely different approach.”
You will not hurt its feelings, and hedging wastes your time. Blunt gets you a genuinely new direction instead of a lightly reworded one.
“Ask me one question at a time.”
For when it fires off four questions at once and you lose your footing. It will slow down and wait, which makes the whole thing feel like a conversation again.
“Stop and summarize everything we've decided so far.”
Do this every so often. It stops a long conversation from drifting, gives you a snapshot to paste into your notes, and rescues you if a free-tier chat cuts off.
“Put the whole final version in one message so I can copy it.”
Use this at the end of every stage you approve. It saves you from stitching a menu together out of nine scattered replies.
Say these in your own words. The AI is not grading your phrasing, and there is no magic wording to get right. Being direct about what you do not like is the whole technique, and it is the same instinct you already use when a colleague hands you a draft that is not quite there yet. This section also prints cleanly, if you want the list living on paper next to your keyboard.
Your first two weeks, honestly
Change does not die in the design phase. It dies at rollout, usually quietly, in the first two weeks. Here is what mine actually looked like, so yours has fewer surprises.
Tell them why, out loud: "I replaced the exam because I want you able to do something, not recite something." Show the whole menu, then run the planning activity in class so every student leaves with a route picked. Students take the work seriously in almost exact proportion to how seriously you explain the reasoning.
"Can I just take a test instead?" The answer is no, and the reason is fairness: everyone is graded against the same published criteria, and running two parallel assessment systems is how instructors drown. Say it kindly on day one and it never comes up again. The student asking is usually the one who is good at tests, and they will be fine.
Verifying attendance evidence took more time than I planned, students under-planned week one even with the planning quiz, a few activities drew zero takers, and my checkpoint pacing was wrong for 8-week sections. None of it was fatal. All of it was fixable by week three.
I tightened the evidence requirements to things I could check from my desk, added a nudge email the day after each checkpoint, cut the dead activities without ceremony, and rebuilt the checkpoint calendar for compressed terms. Expect to make three or four changes like these. Budget the patience for them up front and the first semester goes from stressful to merely interesting.
The questions I actually get asked
Which AI should I use, and do I have to pay?
Claude, ChatGPT, and Microsoft Copilot all handle this well, and the free tiers are enough for a conversation this size. If your college already licenses one, use that one, since it likely comes with institutional data protections that consumer accounts do not.
One practical note: free tiers sometimes cut off long conversations. If that happens partway through, paste the last thing it produced into a fresh chat along with the original prompt, and pick up where you left off. The "stop and summarize" phrase above makes this painless.
Is it ethical for me to use AI to build my own course materials?
You are the author of record, and you are responsible for everything you assign. That does not change here. What changes is who does the typing on the first draft.
Two things I would do anyway. Check your institution's AI policy, since some require disclosure for instructional materials. And be candid with colleagues about how you built it, because the specifics are useful to them and hiding it makes it look shadier than it is.
Can I paste student work or grades into a chatbot?
No. Keep student names, grades, submissions, and anything else from your gradebook out of consumer AI tools entirely. Under FERPA those are education records, and pasting them into a service your institution has not vetted is exactly the kind of disclosure the law is about.
You do not need any of it for this task. You are designing an assignment, not analyzing students. If you later want AI help with something involving real student data, that conversation goes through your institution's approved tools and your registrar.
The AI stated something false, or invented a source. Is that normal?
Yes, and it is the most important limitation to know about. AI assistants sometimes state wrong things with complete confidence, and they are notorious for inventing citations, statistics, and quotations that look real and are not. The industry calls this "hallucination."
For this task it is mostly harmless, because you are asking for structures and drafts, not facts. But treat any factual claim, any citation, and any statistic it produces as unverified until you check it yourself. If it names a study or a source, assume it is made up unless you can find it. And never let an AI-drafted factual claim reach a student handout without your own verification. The rule of thumb: trust it with the typing, never with the truth.
What stops students from using AI to fake the work?
The design does, and this turned out to be the unplanned benefit of the whole approach. Authentic tasks require presence and evidence: attending something, interviewing someone, visiting a place, building a physical thing, documenting a process with original photographs. A chatbot can write a competent paragraph about federalism. It cannot sit through a zoning hearing.
Require evidence that would be a real hassle to fabricate: a photo of the agenda with a timestamp, a recording of the interview, a signature from the office they visited. That is cheaper and more pleasant than escalating proctoring, and it makes the assignment better rather than more adversarial.
What if my department or accreditor pushes back?
Come with three things. First, the alignment: because you built this backwards from your learning goals, every activity already names the outcome it serves. That mapping is the language departments and accreditors speak, and it is usually cleaner than anything a multiple-choice exam can show.
Second, the rubrics, because a published checklist is more defensible under scrutiny than an answer key nobody outside your course has seen. Third, run it as a pilot in one section and collect student feedback. Data from your own students ends most of these conversations.
My discipline doesn't have "civic activities." Does this still work?
Yes, and the translation is usually obvious once you look for it. Nursing students shadow a clinic and document a workflow. Business students interview a small-business owner about a real regulatory headache. Biology students survey a local habitat. Art history students visit a collection and write about one object. Composition students report a story that requires talking to a stranger.
The test is not "is it civic." The test is whether a student has to leave the browser tab and come back with something only they could have produced.
My course is fully online or asynchronous. Does this still work?
Yes, with one honest adjustment: "leave the browser tab" becomes "leave this tab." City councils and school boards stream their meetings, interviews happen over Zoom or a phone call, and plenty of real civic and professional interactions now run through official portals. The test stays the same: did the student interact with something real and come back with evidence only they could have produced?
For online sections, lean on evidence that is hard to fake remotely: a recording of the interview, a confirmation email from the office they contacted, a timestamped screenshot of the live stream with the agenda item visible. Say so in your constraints in Step One and the AI will build the menu online-first.
What about students with accommodation letters?
The menu is structurally friendlier than an exam, because multiple routes to the same points is exactly what universal design asks for. A student who cannot attend an evening meeting picks the interview; a student with a processing accommodation is not racing a clock. When you build the menu, make sure every in-person activity has a remote or asynchronous equivalent, and the prompt on this page already tells the AI to flag accessibility concerns.
Formal accommodations still run through your disability services office, same as always. The difference is that most of them now require no special arrangement, because flexibility is the design rather than the exception.
How does this sit in my gradebook?
One assignment group, weighted at whatever the project is worth. In Canvas: create a group called, say, "Project" at 40%, put each activity inside it as an assignment worth its point value, and set the group to total against your point target. Checkpoints go in as small milestone assignments or zero-point reminders, whichever matches the policy you chose.
The pleasant surprise is transparency: students can see exactly where their points stand at any moment, which kills the "what's my grade" email almost entirely.
How do I grade this without losing my weekends?
Complete/incomplete against a published checklist. That one decision is what makes the model survivable. There is no partial credit to calculate, no rubric row to agonize over, and no negotiation, because the criteria were public before the student started. Grade disputes mostly vanish for the same reason: the remedy is always "fix the missing criterion and resubmit," so there is nothing to argue and no discretion to appeal to.
It took me three rounds of rubric revision to get there. The first versions had criteria I could not actually verify from what students submitted, which is the mistake to watch for.
What if it does not work?
Parts of it will not, the first time. My checkpoint pacing was wrong for 8-week sections, verifying attendance took more of my time than I planned for, and a few activities drew almost no takers.
None of that is a reason to go back to the exam. Keep what worked, cut what did not, and run it again. That is not a flaw in the method. That is the method.
Three things I wish I had known
Start smaller than you think
Eight to twelve activities is plenty for a first semester, and for a few-week project, six is fine. I have 39 now, and I did not start with 39. A short menu you actually launch beats a long one you never finish.
The rubrics are the whole ballgame
Everything else is adjustable. If your criteria are specific and checkable, this model is sustainable across five sections. If they are vague, it will bury you by week six.
Build it during a break
The design conversation takes an hour, but the revision pass wants a quiet afternoon and a clear head. December and May exist for a reason. Week 12 does not.
Tell your students why
Say out loud that you designed this from what you want them to learn, not from what is easy to grade. Students take the work more seriously when they know the reasoning, and they will tell you what to fix.
Two working examples you can pull apart
Both of these are live, in use, and free to copy. Looking at a finished menu and rubric set is the fastest way to understand what you are aiming at, so borrow the structure and swap in your own discipline.
The Civic Action Project
39 activities, three tiers, complete instructor resources, rubrics, tracking tools, and student outcome data from my own sections. Built for federal government, structured to be stolen.
Open the CAP →Texas In Action
The same framework rebuilt for Texas Government, with 39 distinct state and local activities. A useful look at how the model adapts to a different course without starting over.
Open the TIA →Stuck anywhere in this? Write to me.
I would rather answer a question than have you abandon a good idea at step three. If you want to talk through your learning-goal mapping, see the outcome data before pitching this to your department, or just have someone tell you your rubric is fine, I am genuinely happy to help.
And if you are still on the fence, run the three-activity pilot this semester and write to me with what your students turn in. I mean that literally.
Email me about your project