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A graphic on assessing conceptual understanding caught my attention this week because it asks a question that is bigger than assessment design. What are we really trying to know about what students have learned? For a long time, schools have been very good at measuring what is easy to measure. Did the student remember the vocabulary? Did they complete the assignment? Did they get the correct answer? Did they meet the deadline? Did they earn enough points? Those things can tel

“I know who I am, I know what I can and can’t do, and I know what I will and won’t do.” ~Dolly Parton There is a lot of confidence packed into this one sentence. Not the kind of confidence that says, I can do everything. The kind that comes from knowing yourself well enough to understand your strengths, your limits, your values, and your boundaries. That matters in education. It matters for teachers who are constantly being asked to take on one more thing. It matters for lead

My daughter is a newly minted high school freshman, which means we are entering that season of welcome emails, syllabi, expectations, routines, and introductions to the people who will help shape the next four years. This week, I received a welcome email from her Global History teacher that made me stop for a moment. It was honest. It was refreshing. It sounded like a real educator talking to families about what students were actually going to experience in the classroom, not

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” ~ Zora Neale Hurston At the start of a new school year, we tend to think about what the year will bring. What if the more important question is what kind of year we will help create? Will this be a year that asks students to stretch, wonder, struggle productively, and discover what they are capable of? Will it be a year that gives them answers, not simply in the form of content, but in the form of confidence, belongi

Helping Families Understand the Portrait of a Graduate and Outcomes-Based Education For generations, families have understood school through a familiar set of structures. Students attend school for a certain number of days, complete a prescribed collection of courses, earn credits, take required examinations, and, if they meet those requirements, receive a diploma. That system is familiar. Familiar does not always mean sufficient. A diploma indicates that a student has comple

Agricultural education is sometimes treated as a specialized opportunity reserved for rural schools, career and technical education programs, or communities surrounded by farmland. In reality, every community is connected to agriculture through its food systems, land use, environmental conditions, local businesses, cultural traditions, workforce needs, and patterns of access. For school and district leaders, fostering agricultural education does not necessarily require buildi

When we hear “agricultural education,” we may picture high school electives, large school gardens, barns, or students preparing for careers in farming. But agriculture is already woven into nearly every part of the traditional Pre-K–12 curriculum, from the food students eat and the clothes they wear to science, economics, technology, history, environmental responsibility, and community life. Including agricultural education does not require classroom teachers to abandon exist

In my presentations about teacher leadership, I often return to the idea that strong schools do not grow from leadership that sits in one office. They grow when leadership is intentionally cultivated, shared, supported, and sustained throughout the organization. I have also asked participants to consider whether we are truly creating more leadership or simply distributing more work. That distinction matters. Teacher leadership should not be about extracting more from capable

A student completes a lesson successfully. They answer the questions, participate in the activity, and demonstrate the skill on the assessment. Then, a few days later, they encounter the same idea in a slightly different situation and seem unable to recognize it. Teachers are often left wondering: But we just learned this. The challenge may not be that the student failed to learn the skill. The challenge may be that the student has not yet learned how to transfer it. Transfer

The other day, someone walked past me wearing a T-shirt that read, “No Risk, No Story.” It was one of those simple statements that stays with you long after the person wearing it has disappeared into the crowd. I immediately thought about classrooms. Every day, students are asked to take risks. They raise their hands without knowing whether their answer is correct. They read aloud when they are unsure of a word. They share an idea that may be different from everyone else’s. T

As we celebrate the Fourth of July and look toward the 250th anniversary of the United States, it is worth pausing to think about what freedom really asks of us. Independence is not only a historical event, a fireworks display, or a long weekend. It is an ongoing responsibility to participate, to listen, to learn, to question, and to help build a country that lives closer to its ideals. The story of America has never been simple. It is a story of courage and contradiction, sa

When I used to observe sample lessons from teacher candidates, I always watched for something that was not written into the lesson plan. I watched for presence. Not performance. Not volume. Not charisma in the showy sense. Presence. Sometimes the lesson itself was not the strongest part of the interview. The objective might have needed tightening. The pacing might have been uneven. The materials might have been ordinary. Yet, there were moments when a candidate walked into th

Glitter. Say the word out loud and watch what happens. People flinch. They laugh nervously. They immediately picture the aftermath instead of the moment. Flour. Put it in the hands of a child, or even a teenager, and suddenly the kitchen is alive. Hands move, laughter builds, and yes, flour flies. Counters are dusted. Floors are coated. The experience expands beyond the recipe, becoming something shared, remembered, and deeply human. Somewhere along the way, we began to equat

There Is No Such Thing as a "Curricular Disability" I have heard educators say, “I taught it, they didn’t learn it.” Let’s pause here. If...