We were sitting together, teachers gathered around student work from a newly designed performance assessment.

The task asked students to engage in a deep study of character in literature. Instead of a single written response, students were given multiple pathways to show their thinking through a multimedia performance assessment. Students could write, speak, design, create, and connect ideas in ways that reflected how they make meaning.

I invite you to read more about the assessment itself in a previous blog post titled When Assessment Becomes Learning.

As we began looking at the work, something unexpected happened.

Teachers started noticing patterns they hadn’t anticipated.

Students who typically do well with traditional tasks, clear directions, familiar structures, and conventional grading were struggling. They were careful. They followed the steps. But they wrestled with making meaning in this more open space. At the same time, students who don’t always shine on traditional assignments were doing something different. They were making connections. They were explaining their thinking out loud. Some even stepped into leadership roles, supporting their peers and helping them clarify ideas.

The room shifted.

These observations were eye-opening, not because one group of students performed “better” than another, but because the assessment revealed thinking we don’t always get to see. Sitting with the work reminded me of something I wrote in my book The Leader Inside: Every interaction is a learning experience that enhances your leadership lens. This was one of those moments. The interaction with student work changed how we were seeing learning unfold.

What made this moment even more powerful was pairing the student work with student feedback. When we listened and read closely to how students described these performance assessments, their reflections echoed what teachers were already noticing. Students shared that these tasks felt less stressful than traditional tests, but not less rigorous. They allowed for creativity and choice and helped students explain their thinking more clearly.

At the same time, students named their obstacles—planning, organizing ideas, managing time, and synthesizing information. Looking inside the student work meant listening not only to what students produced, but to how they experienced the learning itself.

We laid the work out along a continuum.

Some students demonstrated a deep understanding of theme, articulating how a character’s actions reflected broader ideas across the text. Others focused on selecting a significant event, staying anchored in what happened rather than what it meant.

That’s when the real questions surfaced.

If this is what students produced, what does it tell us about the design of the assessment itself?

What do we need to reflect on in terms of clarity, specificity, and alignment between our expectations, the directions we gave, and the materials we provided?

How do we ensure that the multiple pathways we offer actually support students in reaching the intended depth of thinking?

This is where the shift lives.

Not as a failure.
Not as a misstep.
But as feedback.

George Couros reminds us in his newest book Forward Together that “Some of the most important lessons we teach in education do not always stick with our students the moment they are given, but rather, they may resonate at the point in life when they are most needed.” The same is true for us as educators. Sometimes the learning doesn’t happen in the planning. It happens in the reflecting.

Couros goes on to share that the steps backward and the corrections we make to move forward are paramount to how we model leadership. Sitting with student work, honestly, collaboratively, without defensiveness is one of those moments. It shows students and teachers alike that growth is iterative, not linear.

That idea connects deeply to a line from The Pivot Year by Brianna Wiest that keeps coming back to me:

What feels on the surface like rejection is often redirection.

Not every outcome is confirmation. Some outcomes are invitations to adjust.

Another reminder feels especially relevant when we talk about assessment design:

Little by little, you will begin to see that life can only grow outward in proportion to how stable it is inward.

If we want students to demonstrate deep thinking outwardly, the inner structure of our assessments has to be strong. Clear expectations. Thoughtful models. Aligned materials. Depth doesn’t happen by accident. It’s cultivated.

And maybe this is the most important takeaway:

Decide what’s worth your energy, because what you engage with is what you empower.

When we choose to engage deeply inside the student work, we empower better instruction. When we shift based on what students show us, not just what we intended, we honor learning as a responsive, human process.

We started that conversation surprised by what we saw.
We ended it clearer about what comes next.

Because how many times do we have to shift to meet the needs of students?

As many times as it takes.

And if that shift is going to lead somewhere meaningful, it has to be grounded in what we do next,not someday, but tomorrow.

Because more often than not, the direction forward is already there—quietly waiting inside the work our students place in front of us.

Three Actionable Ideas Leaders Can Implement Tomorrow

1. Lay student work on a continuum, together.
Bring a small set of student work into a team meeting or coaching conversation and place it on a continuum, from surface understanding to deeper meaning-making. Begin with noticing, not judging. Ask teachers to describe what they see before naming strengths or next steps. Patterns emerge quickly when the focus shifts from grades to learning.

2. Walk the task as a learner before changing instruction.
Before adjusting instruction, revisit the assessment itself. Complete the task using only the directions and materials students were given. Notice where clarity fades, where assumptions exist, or where the cognitive demand may be unclear. Often, what students produce is a reflection of the task design, not student ability.

3. Name one shift out loud.
Close the conversation by naming one small adjustment the team is willing to try next. Keep it narrow. Keep it intentional. Say it explicitly: Based on what we noticed, here’s the shift we’re going to make. Revisit it soon. This models that reflection and correction are not setbacks, but leadership in action.