It’s generally assumed that we have to provide consistency for students so that everything is fair, and students are consistently evaluated with regard to their achievements, no matter what school they attend. The fact is that this is pretend. Consistency is illusory.

This little tweak has led to profound changes in the way I talk to students about their writing and the way they respond to my feedback.

Grades undergird nearly everything we do in education. By threatening late penalties and administering one-shot assessments, we focus our famously distracted students on the task at hand.

Finding ways to save time and practice self-care are important as we move away from grades. But community care is where we move beyond self-care into caring for each other.

I was never quite certain if my students actually took the time to read or if they understood my comments. I didn't know if they had questions or concerns. Assessing in isolation seems empty.

The maxim “If you can’t measure it, you can’t manage it” sums up the continued belief in the necessity and power of accountability. A lack of accountability is seen as a sure path to lawlessness...

Many teachers are implementing genius hour, defined as time given during the school day where students can learn about their interests and pursue projects they are passionate about. It's an inherently student-centered and messy undertaking to be sure, but many teachers testify to its power to unleash student passion, creativity, and concern for the community.

Does going gradeless automatically guarantee an equitable classroom? Could gradelessness produce inequitable outcomes?

If you're wondering about benefits or pitfalls of extra credit, consider these situations and reflection questions. Feel free to add your own in the comments below.

It’s not about grades. It’s about learning. We need to take grades out of the equation. Forcing students to jump through our hoops doesn’t cut it. We need to meet them where they are. Grades, schmades.

Eliminating toxic grading practices, going gradeless, even providing effective feedback—none of this says much about what we plan to plant. And if we think this isn’t contested ground, we’re kidding ourselves.

Wherever you fall on the love-hate continuum of grammar, we can all probably find common ground in at least one belief: writing loses power without the strong, intentional use of grammar.