How Learning Targets Can Save Your Time, Energy, and Sanity

Learning targets take some good-natured abuse these days on TikTok and Instagram reels. And hey, I can chuckle at some of the shots.

No, learning targets won’t save your life. They won’t solve your classroom management problems. Simply posting them on the wall won’t be enough to magically improve your students’ engagement and learning.

But I will absolutely insist that learning targets CAN save you time, mental energy, and sanity.

Here’s why and how in a nutshell. They can reduce, simplify, and focus your assessment activities.

Less is more.

You’re not a street sweeper, teachers. It’s not your job to inhale everything in sight.

No, you’re an eagle-eyed detective. Instead of grading everything and every part of what your students do, you’re only looking for particular pieces of evidence.

And that, my friends, can make all the difference in the world.

Let me show you what I mean.

Example 1: A sixth grade solar system activity

Let’s take this hypothetical learning activity for sixth grade Science students. I’ve asked students to 1) label each planet correctly and 2) use the text box feature to add one interesting fact about each planet, moon, and star.

Those are the activity instructions. But pay close attention to the learning target.

It’s taken from our sixth grade Science curriculum: 🎯 I can … identify the position and components of our solar system in our galaxy.

Now here’s the key. Does the learning standard require that students describe each major component of our solar system? Nope. That skill may appear elsewhere in the curricular documents, but not in this particular standard.

So am I going to take valuable minutes to verify each fact that my students decide to include for each celestial body? No, I am not.

All I need to do here is complete a quick scan to confirm that students have correctly identified the components of the solar system. That’s IT. That’s all the evidence I need.

So instead of taking 2–3 valuable minutes per student to carefully review (and research) each completed solar system poster, I’m taking about 5–10 seconds to verify that the names of the planets appear correctly.

I just cut my hour of assessment work down to two minutes, which may also mean that the assessment can be completed and recorded during class time (it depends on how you plan to use the data, of course).

Am I conning or cheating students by operating this way? Absolutely not. To suggest so is to suggest that asking my students to learn more about each planet is a waste of time.

It’s the old grades-as-wages mindset that says that students must be paid for any and every completed activity. It’s a terrible paradigm and it reinforces backward thinking about the value of learning.

Don’t fall for it.

Example 2: A fourth grade English activity

Let’s say that you’re teaching fourth grade English and you’ve just completed some learning around literary devices. You want to assess student learning against a classic learning target: 🎯I can … use similes properly in my writing.

Many kinds of learning activities would provide the evidence we need to assess student proficiency against this curricular standard. But let’s say that you choose to go with something quick and simple that requires students to do some writing: write three paragraphs about your family, using at least three similes effectively.

Students begin their writing, and — because you used the Google Classroom ‘Make a Copy for Every Student’ feature — you’re able to jump from one student’s work to the next in real time while they write, offering feedback and assessments of their learning as they write.

You read that correctly: you’re making assessments — not in the late hours of the evening after you’ve put your own kids to bed — but as they write. Here’s what I mean.

Let’s say I hop into Narissa’s Google Doc. She’s writing away, perhaps 1–2 paragraphs in. I’ll make sure to give her some quick encouragement. But I don’t have to stop there. If I can already spot three similes used effectively in context, I can assess her proficiency, record it, and move on.

Is Narissa’s third paragraph wasted if I don’t read it or never come back to it? Not at all. To suggest so is to suggest that students can’t benefit from writing by themselves, which is absurd.

Of course they can. Our students need to write so much more than they do today.

As teachers, we offer feedback, guidance, and encouragement when and where we’re able. But it’s silly to suggest that they can only grow when we’ve put their work in its entirety under our sacred magnifying glasses.

The big idea: learning targets tell us which evidence to examine

Remember: we’re not street sweepers, teachers. We’re detectives.

The next time you assess your students’ work, start with the learning target. Precisely which pieces of evidence do you need to examine carefully and thoughtfully?

Spend your mental energy on that, and — at least for this particular learning activity — ignore the rest.

You’ll be saving your sanity in the process.

Even better? Your students will receive feedback and assessments that are actually helpful.

I call that a win-win.

Watch my latest YouTube interview with Laura Boyd

It’s Report Card Time and a Student’s Project Is Missing. Now What?

There are better ways to respond than assigning a zero.

When report card seasons roll around, it’s the responsibility of the teacher to report on student learning and progress as accurately as possible using the evidence at their disposal.

This is not the time to wield grades as currency, rewarding diligent workers with big paychecks and bonuses while fining the lazy workers.

That’s the grades-as-wages mindset.

Instead, what we’re actually interested in is clearly communicating student proficiency, skills, and understanding.

So for teachers committed to the true purpose of reporting, what should we do when key pieces of learning evidence are missing?

Why students miss assignments

First, let’s think about what’s going on when a learning activity is not completed or an assignment is not submitted.

Josh never did turn in that project in American History class. Why not?

There are lots of possible reasons:

He was highly engaged during class times and contributed to class activities, but his executive functioning skills were poor and he completely forgot about this due date, despite reminders.
His involvement on a sports team pulled him out of some classes and dominated his attention this term.
He’s an English language learner, and he couldn’t properly understand the project criteria.
His family went on a three-week vacation to Hawaii while this project was underway, and he completely missed all the related classes.
He’s addicted to video games and simply cannot bring himself to do any school work outside of school hours.
He’s been battling serious health issues which have taken him out of school for a number of days and taken away his ability to focus on school work.
He dislikes the course content and has no motivation to learn.
He was rocked by the death of a parent this term, and a lot of balls were dropped.

From a reporting standpoint, it doesn’t matter why the project was missed.

That statement is going to tick off a lot of teachers, but stay with me on this.

If our job as education professionals is to accurately report on a student’s learning against curricular standards, then an unsubmitted project is simply a missing piece of evidence.

If you’re still using your report card to reward or punish your workers, then you’re not really teaching skills or content — not primarily. What you’re actually doing is exacting compliance.

Listen. The unsubmitted project is a missing piece of evidence. The sprinter didn’t sprint.

So the first thing we need to do is detach emotionally from this problem. If you’re upset with the student or irritated that they’ve been irresponsible and you’re mad that they’re about to get away with it, you’re playing your own power game.

Re-focus on our mission: accurate reporting on learning.

So how should we proceed?

Helpful ways to respond to an unsubmitted project

There are plenty of positive steps available to teachers when a project goes unsubmitted. They include:

1. Have a private conversation with the student that is curious, not furious.

“Hey Josh, I noticed that you still haven’t turned in the project. Can you help me understand why that is? Is there anything I can do to support you and help you get it finished?”

Josh may need tutoring. Or counseling. Or more time. Or help with a home situation. Any number of things.

This is a great opportunity for you to learn more about a student’s needs and consider doing something to support them — something the just-give-him-a-zero crowd isn’t going to bother with.

2. Share concerns confidentially with teaching colleagues and your school-based team.

Reach out informally for collegial support or formally request back-up from your school-based team. If the student issue is acute enough, you may want to invite other specialists in your building to speak into this situation and support you.

3. Report on the student’s progress based on other available evidence of learning.

If you have enough other pieces of evidence (including observations, peer assessments, self-assessments, and conversations) at your disposal, you may be able to report with authority on the learning standards in question — even without seeing the project in question.

4. Write a clear course-specific comment in the report card that lets parents and student know that some work was not completed.

“Josh’s evidence of learning was limited by extended absences this term, making it difficult to accurately report proficiency on some learning standards.”

Gently flagging the missed work lets parents see the bigger picture of their child’s learning and gives them a chance to better support their child. This is a critical point and a professional obligation.

5. In extreme cases — or when several pieces of evidence of student learning are missing — it may be appropriate to record an IE designation for Insufficient Evidence.

We simply do not have enough evidence at our disposal to report on the student’s learning with any sense of confidence. So that’s what we report.

6. Report on work habits elsewhere on the report card.

At my school, teachers report on intermediate student work habits in the following categories with either consistently, often, sometimes, or rarely:

Submits work on time
Uses class time effectively
Listens to and follows teacher instructions
Participates actively in class/small group discussions
Prepared for learning
Positively contributes to group/team activities
Completes work thoughtfully and with care

This is the place where we speak to the student’s holistic growth as a learner and a human being.

Final thoughts

When I entered the profession 20+ years ago, I likely believed that the lazy-teacher response to unsubmitted work was to not penalize the student on their report card.

To let the student get away with it and reward their laziness or lack of diligence? I would never be so irresponsible.

I see the purpose of reporting much differently today.

What learners need, what parents need, what other teachers and support staff need from a report card is an accurate picture of the student’s proficiency against curricular standards.

Before we know how to move forward, we need to know where we are.

So the purer that picture is, the better.

Simply filling in a cell with a zero, averaging the row into a percentage, and moving on? That’s actually the easy way out.

It’s not really interested in accurate reporting or teaching responsibility, despite protests to the contrary.

Maybe you’re reading this and you’re incensed. If that’s you, I’m sure you’re a passionate and principled educator. You love kids and are interested in supporting their growth in character.

But let me gently suggest that there are better ways to teach responsibility and support students who miss assignments than by handing them a zero.

According to the BC Ministry of Education,

“Assessment involves the wide variety of methods or tools that educators use to identify student learning needs, measure competency acquisition, and evaluate students’ progress toward meeting provincial learning standards.”

Identify needs. Measure competencies. Evaluate progress.

That’s the mission.

Here’s to powerful, meaningful, and supportive report cards.

*All images were sourced from the Canva stock library.

How Ryan Howard Exposed Traditional Assessment Practices

“I’d be stupid not to do it. Right?”

One of the greatest episodes from The Office — indisputably the funniest sitcom ever created — has a detail buried in it that says something profound about traditional assessment paradigms.

The episode, of course, features Michael Scott (Ryan’s office manager) as guest speaker for Ryan’s business school class. True to form, Michael launches into a confidently delivered but basically nonsensical lecture on what he considers the essential principles of business.

“There are four kinds of businesses,” he rants in front of a full college classroom. “Tourism, food service, railroads, and sales.”

Watching Ryan sit there mortified through it all is side-splitting stuff.

But the detail I find most significant in terms of our professional teaching practice is a quote that comes from Ryan early on in the episode, as he explains to the “documentary” film crew why he invited Michael to speak to his college business class in the first place.

“If you bring your boss to class, it automatically bumps you up a full letter grade. So … I’d be stupid not to do it, right?”

Of course, the comedic factor enjoyed by Office fans here is the knowledge that giving Michael this kind of stage is a recipe for disaster.

It’s a terrible deal, Ryan. Don’t do it!

But what most viewers miss is the ridiculous proposition made by the professor. Bring in someone from your work, and your grade goes up by a full letter.

What?

Looks like grades have more to do with hoops and compliance than actual abilities or skills in this course.

But of course Ryan isn’t objecting. He’s taking the invitation and playing along, because this is the system of assessment that America has accepted.

The traditional grades-as-wages paradigm

In traditional paradigms of assessment, grades aren’t necessarily about learning or evidence of proficiency. They’re as much about pleasing the person at the front of the room.

Grades are really just wages. Currency.

Do what I want, and you get paid, maybe even rewarded with a pay bonus.

Don’t do what I want, and you won’t get paid. Misbehave, and you’ll actually be fined.

I’ve seen a teacher offer students a percentage increase in their overall average in exchange for tidying up classroom shelves.

I’ve seen a band teacher require students to clean up chairs and equipment after a concert under threat of lost grades.

In possibly the funniest example ever, a veteran colleague recounted to me how when she was in high school, her PE teacher would award bonus points to students who had showers after PE classes.

Weird. And a little creepy.

The saddest part of all of this is that like Ryan Howard, the students caught up in the middle of these arrangements generally accept them.

They’ve been conditioned to do so. They’ve learned that education is really just a big game to understand, a set of hoops to jump through, a case of pleasing and impressing the right people.

I once asked a class of 8th graders which they would value more: a straight-A report card or more learning? Results were split.

Friends. School is about learning. Assessments should support the learning — not the other way around.

Every bit of assessment we collect, document, share, and report should reflect student learning against curricular standards. Nothing else.

When we hold up grades as wages to be paid to students, we’re leveraging our gradebooks for compliance and making up our own weird version of education.

How do I feel about that?

Well, in the words of Michael Scott, “I don’t hate it. I just don’t like it at all and it’s terrible.”

Should Teachers Use This New Google Classroom Feature?

Does ‘Close submissions after due date’ support student learning and development?

Google Classroom recently introduced a new feature in assignment settings. Teachers can now select ‘Close submissions after due date.’

I have no doubt that some teachers reacted warmly to this development. Late assignment submissions drive some teachers mad. They cost time and energy.

So the ability to shut the door on late submissions is an appealing option.

But just because the option is there doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the right course for student learning.

Whenever it comes to tricky pedagogical, policy, or program decisions, I like to fall back on these two questions:

Is this good for kids?
Is this good for student learning?

Guided by this simple filter and after giving this some serious thought, here’s where I’m landing on Google Classroom’s newest feature for now.

Four thoughts on the ‘Close submissions after due date’ option

1. If our number one mission is student learning, I would hope that our posture is that whenever students want to submit evidence of their learning, we want to accept it.

We can’t always, but we want to or we wish we could, right?

That’s a very general principle that requires qualifications (see points 3–4 regarding teacher limitations and sustainability), but I think if our mission is truly student learning, it’s important to at least aim for that posture as a starting point.

If students want to show us evidence of their learning, as a general default we’d like to see it, or at the very least have access to it.

2. I sure hope we’re not leveraging that feature in order to scare students into assignment completion and submission.

Please, no.

If we’re checking the box beside this option, we’d better be thinking through our policy carefully. If an assignment was due on Tuesday and the student wants to submit it on Wednesday but is shut out by this setting, what happens next?

Because I’ll tell you one thing we’re definitely NOT doing.

We’re not recording zeros for unsubmitted work. Zeros obliterate any remnants of possible meaning or significance from report cards.

As Tom Schimmer says, if an athlete doesn’t show up for a 100 meter dash, we don’t assume they have zero running ability.

That would be intellectual laziness. No one in the track world would treat that as a serious conclusion.

If an athlete doesn’t show up for a race, it means that we simply don’t have the evidence that we need to properly assess their running ability.

Unless we have access to other data, their ability to run 100 meters remains completely unknown.

In my proficiency scale (standards-based grading) context, we’re also not going to record a student’s learning as Emerging. That would be the same idea as a zero.

Remember, if we’re recording zeroes or assessments of Emerging proficiency, we’re no longer trying to honestly measure learning against curricular standards.

All we’re doing is leveraging grades as punishment and rewards.

And that makes our gradebooks a joke, because now the grade says more about compliance than ability.

3. I would hope that if we use this feature, we use it in a way that opens the door to student conversations and growth.

Maybe there’s a simple conversation or appeal or application process that the student must complete in order to be allowed to submit their assignment.

Whatever this looks like, I can see some positive potential here. Some character and regulation formation in the student. Some deepening of the teacher-student relationship.

Note that this will actually require more time and energy from the teacher than if the feature was not turned on. But if a teacher is willing to go this path, I applaud them.

Seriously, they’re a rock star. They’re deeply invested.

Student learning, development, and self-regulation skills could win as a result of this kind of policy.

4. The reality we can all agree on: teachers are limited by time and human capacity.

Teachers already cannot assess every piece of work that students touch.

When we do find the time and priority to assess student work, it needs to be done as much as possible in one chunk, one session.

What I’m getting at here is that teachers simply cannot sit down to assess 15 submissions, then a few days later assess three more, then a few days later one more, then a few days later three more.

Extrapolate that kind of ridiculousness across dozens of students and learning activities and you’ve got a great recipe for teacher insanity or depression or both.

We also quite literally cannot accept submissions forever.

The end of term or semester is generally a hard cap, but even within the term, it’s not reasonable for teachers to assess submissions in November that were due in September.

So for that reason I think there’s at least an argument to be made for closing the door on learning activities and moving on at some point.

Privately, I would hope that the door on submissions doesn’t slam shut at midnight on the due date. Google Classroom does offer a switch that blocks future submissions at any arbitrary time, so teachers could do this manually a week or so after due dates if they chose.

But let’s be real and say that ultimately, the door on submissions does have to close at some point.

Will I use this feature?

No.

One of my core values as a teacher has long been this: late is better than never. As long as the assignment submission is there for me by the time I assess it, we’re good.

For me to shut the door quickly on assignment submissions, I have to be able to make the reverse case: never is better than late.

That’s a very, very tough position to defend pedagogically.

But should all teachers go my way? Not necessarily.

As I wrote in point 3 (above), I can see a best use case for this feature that results in increased learning, character formation, and self-regulation skills in students.

It would take a serious commitment on the part of teachers. It would cost them more time and energy, and as a part-time administrator I worry about that.

But for teachers willing to take this strategy seriously, I can see the potential wins. And I’ll cheer you on as you do it.

The Magic and Misery of Student Video Submissions

Allowing students to represent their learning through video creates exciting possibilities and serious challenges to our sanity at the same time.

Image Source: Apple

I’m a big believer in allowing our students to represent their learning in as many different ways as possible.

Writing is the conventional means for this, and don’t dump on it. Effective writing is as powerful and important as ever, says this English major.

The keyboard is still mightier than the sword, notwithstanding the trolls.

But students can also represent their learning through drawings, posters, brochures, magazines, slideshows, animations, group presentations, speeches, plays, audio recordings, and a host of other expressions.

They can also use video recordings.

The magic of video submissions

When I started teaching in 2001, there was no way for students to represent their learning through video and share it effectively.

We didn’t have iPads or Chromebooks back then. We didn’t even have wifi.

By comparison, students and teachers of today have an embarrassment of riches at our disposal. Using tools like Seesaw and Canva, students can record picture-in-picture videos or screencasts that include explanations and demonstrations of their learning.

There are probably hundreds of specific applications of video in the classroom, but here are three of my current favorites:

1. Writing piece read-alouds

Any time my English students complete a piece of writing of any significance, I ask them to read it aloud on Seesaw in the form of a screen recording. By zooming in on their text (usually a Google Doc) as they read, students allow their parents to follow along on their own devices while they listen to their child.

This practice is such a no-brainer for any middle school language classroom. It positions students to truly own their writing, refine and revise their texts (they always discover mistakes when they read them aloud), and strengthen their oral communication skills — another important curricular standard.

2. Video reflections after independent reading

Our students sometimes feel like every time they turn around, they’re writing another reflection. I think reflections are good practice for lots of reasons, but we can also mix it up a little bit. They don’t always need to be typed or written, and students generally appreciate the change-up.

Here’s an activity from my Seesaw library that I can re-post in a few clicks after any independent reading period. It meets curricular standards, requires critical thinking, strengthens oral communication skills, and provides some gentle accountability.

Wins all around.

3. Math solution demonstrations as screencasts

When I’m teaching Math, I like to ask students to demonstrate their solution to a problem as a narrated screen recording.

This gives me so much more information than simply “Did they find the right answer?” I can watch, listen, track their understanding and observe their whole process. Depth of proficiency is all right there.

The video becomes another helpful artifact in their learning journal. And the student’s parents can see precisely where their child’s learning is, too.

It’s a thing of beauty.

The misery of video submissions

Now it’s time to face the bitter truth about video submissions.

They take forever to fully review.

FOREVER.

I taught 160 unique middle school students each semester this year as part of my 60% teaching time. (We’ll stay focused today and ignore the fact that my 40% admin time took up about 80% of my energy.)

Let’s say that in the course of one week, I assigned each of my 160 students a learning activity that required submission of a video. (I know the UDL advocates will speak up to say that I should be offering more choices for means of representation, but work with me, folks.)

Let’s say that each of those 160 students submits a video that averages three minutes in length. That’s eight hours of viewing.

Now I know I don’t have to watch every single video in its entirety, but you see my point. When you put those hours beside all my other teaching and administrative duties, the time quickly becomes impossible. Absurd, even.

Some of my dear students sincerely expect me to watch every second of everything they post. Bless their hearts, but I can’t meet that demand and stay sane at the same time.

What are we to do?

Should we just give up and avoid video submissions altogether?

The good news about video activities

Thankfully, I bring you glad tidings of great joy, tired teacher. We don’t have to grade everything. We don’t have to offer feedback on everything, either.

I first encountered this word of hope from Dylan Wiliam and Siobhan Leahy in Embedding Formative Assessment:

“The most important takeaway from the research is that the shorter the time interval between eliciting the evidence and using it to improve instruction, the bigger the likely impact on learning.”

I draw three conclusions from this quote, and friend, they are important.

1. The feedback I offer my students in real time has the greatest impact of any feedback they receive.

This is as true on the basketball court or in the band room as it is in my English classroom. So I engage, interact, look over shoulders, sit with students, observe what they’re doing, ask questions, offer feedback, and support their learning whenever and wherever I can during class time.

2. The feedback I offer my students hours or days or even weeks after the fact isn’t too valuable.

You know those five hours you spent last Saturday posting feedback on student work? Not a great return on your investment, research suggests.

That’s not to say that we should never offer feedback or grade student work long after the time of completion. I do so when it seems important to, especially when I’m relying on particular pieces of evidence of learning to construct an accurate picture of a student’s progress.

But I weigh my investment of attention and energy against the time that has elapsed since the student completed the work. The greater the gap, the less impact my feedback or assessment is likely to have on their learning.

3. Learning activities can often support student learning, even without feedback or assessment from the teacher.

Look at the three examples of video submissions that I listed above. I would argue that each and every one is valuable for the student to complete, whether or not I offer feedback or assess the activity.

Yes, sometimes I will offer feedback during class or after it. But other times I can’t and won’t. And that’s okay, because the student is still winning.

They’re still thinking critically.

They’re still demonstrating their knowledge and understanding.

They’re still strengthening their oral communication skills.

They’re still reflecting on their learning.

My students don’t receive points or percentages for anything they do, so I hardly ever hear “Is this for marks?” or “Will this be graded?”

For the most part, they just do it. Because that’s the culture we’ve built.

And I sleep with the satisfaction of knowing they are moving their own learning forward.

Learning can happen without us, not to mention the possibilities afforded by peer- and self-assessment. Sometimes we need to drop the hero complex and remember that the children in our care have the capacity to learn and grow on their own.

Even if we don’t always see their finished product? (Gasp.)

Yes.

That’s not an abdication. It’s a recognition of student agency.

Dig it or ditch it? The final verdict on video representations of learning.

I’ve shown you the magic.

I’ve detailed the misery of the time it takes to actually review every video submission.

And I’ve assured you that by opening the door to these representations of learning, you’re not actually kissing your sanity goodbye.

So I say dig it.

Offer feedback and coaching in the moment. Offer likes and encouragement whenever you can. Grade work and provide assessment when you must.

Don’t drive yourself crazy, but take this tool out of the toolbox.

What happens next just might bring back some of your fire for learning.

And your community will be better for it.