Working to See the Full Picture

Early in my teaching career, I was consistently thrown by a disconnect that seemed to come out of nowhere. Some of my most verbally engaged students would eagerly raise their hand to discuss a text or debate a concept, which gave me the impression that they were accessing the learning at a deep cognitive level. However, when I read their written work or graded an assessment, these same students would sometimes perform so poorly that I was flummoxed. Perhaps they kept having an off day, or maybe they weren’t great test-takers?

I came up with explanations that might make sense, but it took a few years for me to realize that while class discussions could create an impression of student understanding, these moments alone didn’t accurately reveal students’ depth of understanding because speaking up doesn’t necessarily equal cognitive engagement. I was leaning too heavily on participation to tell me whether students understood the concepts.

Anecdotal data gets us only so far, and when we rely on it to judge the validity of a curriculum, the quality of an assessment, or the depth of student comprehension, anecdotal data can be misleading. Our instructional decisions are strongest when they are informed by multiple data points: what students both say and write, how they apply ideas over time, what formative assessments reveal, and how learning transfers beyond a single activity. Looking across these sources allows us to see not just whether students are engaged but also whether they actually understand course content.

Over-Reliance on Limited Prior Experience

I sometimes work with teachers who are convinced that their students will never voluntarily take the lead in a class discussion because they’ve tried before with lackluster results. Just recently one told me, “No matter what I do, it’s always radio silence with the exception of the same three kids. I don’t want to go through that again.” These teachers will sometimes grudgingly admit that changing the structure or approach of discourse might be helpful, but they’re still usually skeptical that students will change their behavior.

Prior experience can skew our perspectives significantly, which limits future growth. In a famous TED Talk, novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie addresses what she refers to as the “danger of a single story,” which is what happens when people believe that their perspective is the only one that carries truth. Instead of relying on experience alone to develop next steps, a more informed approach would be to test new structures in low-stakes ways and gather fresh evidence.

When teachers I coach report low student participation, for example, I guide them to try a structured protocol such as an elevated turn-and-talk, or suggest that they assign roles like facilitator and summarizer before asking students to lead a discussion. When I meet with these teachers a few class periods later to debrief how the new approach is going, they usually report improvements that they credit to having a plan to address any ongoing challenge. In other words, the problem wasn’t students’ lack of engagement—it was that they needed support to manage their discussions. When we revisit a classroom strategy with intentional scaffolds and then reflect on what actually happened as part of the plan-teach-reflect cycle, we expand the story we tell ourselves about what students can do.

The Problem With First Impressions

Recently, a teacher on social media anonymously posted a question about the new district curriculum: “Is it just me, or does this product provide a complete lack of creativity and zero opportunities for critical thinking? I can’t explain what makes me feel that way, but it’s a strong impression.” While the teacher’s intuition may have been correct, going with feelings only rather than supporting data can be misleading or even harmful.

Instinct might serve as an important early signal, but it should be a starting point rather than a conclusion. When we experience a strong reaction, it’s important to pause to gather specific evidence that either supports or challenges that initial impression. For instance, the teacher above might review the curriculum guide in an effort to find tasks that elevate student choice, locate open-ended prompts that can push student thinking forward, and seek out opportunities for learners to generate original questions, products, or solutions. The curriculum might include those opportunities even if it also has uninspired worksheets. Inviting colleagues to examine the same materials can also surface patterns we might miss on our own. In doing so, we move from an impression to a clear, evidence-based understanding that can guide action.

Looking for Patterns

It is common to think that having numerical data will prevent snap judgments about student performance, but isolated or fuzzy data points can also tell the wrong story. As a literacy specialist, I often work with schools that use one reading screen as a determining factor for placing a student in a Tier 3 intervention for decoding or comprehension. Teachers may see a test score on that screen that is a red flag and decide that a student has a specific set of needs, but adding more data points, like an oral reading fluency measure, might support a more nuanced approach. Furthermore, we often lack pieces of the puzzle at the start of the year, so it helps to start building grade book data within the first two weeks to give us more information to go on, and we can also look at student history where possible—longitudinal data from prior years of schooling—as it can be very telling.

Getting a clear picture of a student can take a month or two, so those early weeks of the year should ideally incorporate developing a plan to gather what we need. Balancing varying sources of data will ultimately produce more informed results than a single screen. Over time, teachers might look across student work samples, conference notes, formative assessments, and standardized measures before making a decision about intervention. If those sources tell a consistent story, we can act with confidence, but if they don’t, the discrepancy becomes a cue to dig deeper rather than rush to label or place the student.

Keeping an Open Mind

Every human being has confirmation bias; it feels affirming to think that what we believe is correct and just. However, when we actively seek out unbiased evidence, we create space for more accurate and equitable decisions. This process might look like intentionally asking, “What would I need to see to prove myself wrong?” and then examining student work or classroom interactions through that lens. For example, if a teacher believes a student is disengaged, it can be illuminating to track when that student participates across different contexts or solicit their perspective about the class experience. By remaining open to revising assumptions, we position ourselves to respond to students as they are rather than as we expect them to be.

When we rely too heavily on a single experience, an initial impression, or an isolated data point, we risk making decisions that limit rather than expand opportunities for our students. By intentionally seeking multiple perspectives, testing assumptions, and remaining open to being wrong, we position ourselves to respond with greater precision and care. In doing so, we move beyond instinct alone and toward a more thoughtful, evidence-informed practice that better reflects the depth of student learning we hope to cultivate.