Teachers don’t generally like to come down to the office. In fact, most people (even as adults!) still have negative feelings about seeing the principal. They believe they must be “in trouble.” This is a large reason why I like to engage with students and staff in their spaces as opposed to mine, and why I have attempted to make my office be more like a place to relax and hang out (treats, comfy chairs, kids’ artwork) than the seat of discipline.

However, there is always one point in the year that I have a steady parade of teachers, educational assistants, and early childhood educators waiting to see me: the week before parent/teacher conferences in the fall. Invariably, they want to talk about what and how to share with parents with regard to student progress and achievement.

I always begin with the same question: what do you know about the student?

The answers to this question tend to emphasize grades. Sometimes there is a reference to specific skills in core areas like Language Arts and Math, and then there are usually some comments about skills, behavior, effort, and attendance, which might also include some speculation about home support for the work being done in class.

I always listen to the entire description without interruption or clarification. When they are finished, I ask them: what else do you know about the student?

I usually get puzzled looks the first time I have this conversation with a teacher. Looks that say, What do you mean? What else is there? We have become accustomed to equating the student with the grade itself. Consequently, when we utter a number or letter, we believe have adequately defined human being who sits in our classroom.

If the teacher has children, I ask the teacher to describe them. Sometimes I describe my own children. (I am proud chauffeur and chef to 3 teenagers!) The difference between the descriptions is striking, in that grades do not feature significantly (if at all) into the picture. There is also a marked difference in the variety, quality, and depth of the observations.

I finish by asking them which answer they would be more comfortable with as a parent in a conference. As you might imagine, it is almost always the second version of describing a child.

Why is this? When did we become a system that was more interested in what arbitrary age-defined standard a child could demonstrate, than in the child herself? Or, perhaps more precisely, when did teachers become more concerned with the curriculum than with the learner?

I don’t for one minute think there are a significant number of teachers who would say that they value content over children, so how did we get here?

Let’s be honest, there is a great deal of pressure placed on teachers, and it comes from a number of sources. The government, local boards, school administrators, parents, outside agencies, and even students all have expectations of teachers. Teachers, too, have not discovered how to cram more than 24 hours into any given day, and time, or the lack of it, influences teacher stress and decision-making. Because of this pressure, teachers often choose a model of assessment and accountability that privileges standardization, limits choice, and conforms to a narrow definition of what is observable.

And so it is with a great deal of compassion and understanding that I have these conversations with teachers. I know these teachers have worked very hard to prepare lessons, support student success, provide extra-curricular opportunities, and engage with families in the best interests of the children they teach. Their stress and anxiety levels are understandable.

But why do we maintain this cycle? Who is it benefiting? And perhaps most importantly, is there a better way?

In simple terms, the teacher’s role is to get the student from point A to point B in their skill level. A teacher does this through their pedagogy, through the mechanisms that inform their assessment, and through the feedback they provide to bridge the gap between where students are and where they want to go.

Good pedagogy is that which engages students authentically and enables them to show us what they know and what they can do with this knowledge. It is flexible and adaptable, and it flows from our knowledge of and relationship with our students.

Good assessment is a set of practices that allows us to see all of the elements generated by good pedagogy: what students know, what they can do, and where they need to grow. It is the triangulation of observations, conversations, and products, in which no one side of the triangle is privileged. Finished products should not, for example, be more valuable than a student conference.

Good feedback is that which connects task and assessment. Feedback is what creates growth. It supports, challenges, refines, and enhances learning. It must be ongoing, timely, and relevant to students.

Oh, and we know that good feedback has absolutely nothing to do with grades.

But this is where you tell me that your principal doesn’t think the same way, and how could you possibly make the switch to a classroom where feedback and not grades are the norm? Your parents would go ballistic! Your students wouldn’t know what to do without grades to motivate them! You couldn’t write report cards! You wouldn’t survive parent-teacher conferences!

And here is where we return to my original question: what do you know about the student? I guarantee that if you allow assessment and feedback to inform what you do you will have a richer and more holistic understanding of who your students are, what they can do, and where they need to do to improve. I also promise you that you will make better pedagogical decisions because you will better understand what motivates, engages, and inspires your students.

Because you know your students better, students, families, and colleagues will be able to have more positive, precise, and practical conversations with you. It will be easier to complete summative reports and to describe the growth and achievement of students. And students will pay more attention to what you say because they know you are attuned to their own personal learning journey.

I said earlier, the vast majority of teachers do not believe that content is more important than students, and I truly believe the same is true of administrators. If you can explain how your triangulation of products, conversations, observations inform your conclusions, we will support you.

Shifting to a gradeless classroom that emphasizes growth and feedback can be scary for some, and it may feel as if you are alone in your practice. Know that nothing could be further from the truth. The TG2 community is made up of educators from all levels of education, from all over the globe, and in all different roles. We are here to support, share, and celebrate. We work hard to model the kind of practices we want to see in our classrooms, and we all recognize that we are on a journey ourselves. There is no finish line in our work, just like there is no end point for student learning.

Mark Sonnemann is principal of Holy Name Catholic School in Kingston, Ontario. You can follow him on Twitter @MarkSonnemann and find more of his writing on Medium.