Real Talk
This scenario I am about to describe will seem familiar to most teachers. If not, you are one of the lucky ones:
It’s 7:30 a.m. My coffee is sitting on my desk, lukewarm and untouched, in my favorite Eeyore teacher mug. After blasting my before-school pep up playlist in the car, which features songs like “Don’t Stop Believing” (Journey), “Whatever It Takes” (Imagine Dragons), and “Happy” (Pharrell), I walk into my classroom with illusions of starting the day on a productive and joyful note. Instead, I’m greeted by a whiteboard—blank, ominous, and waiting to be scribbled all over with the glorious “Standards of the Day.”
I take out my trusty dry-erase marker. I start to write: “Today we will identify the main idea and key details in a literary text.” Except—Aaaarrrggghh—my marker dies halfway through the word “identify.” It’s a metaphor for my soul at this point — dead inside.
After a few other trials, I finally find another working marker that hasn’t succumbed to The Standards. I continue writing. Another standard and another. Because someone, somewhere in an office far, far away believes young children will enter the room, gaze up at this magical assembly of words, and exclaim, “Ah, yes! So, that’s what I’m learning. It all makes sense now.”
But here’s the sad reality about writing standards on the board day after day after day:
1. Students do not read them.
Let me be clear: my students can’t even read. A few of them think the glue is Chapstick, and one still cries every day because he misses his mommy. And yet here I am, diligently writing standards-based objectives as if I’m leading a seminar at an Ivy League university.
Even my teacher friends who teach upper grades feel the same. No one is reading one word, nor are they curious about how the standards relate to what is being taught. These are not children who care if today’s lesson is aligned with CCSS.ELA-LITERACY.RF.K.2.D.
2. Standards on the board do not improve learning.
They do not improve reading skills, help with test scores, or transform chaos into comprehension. They don’t inspire creativity, problem-solving skills, or turn a student into a scholar magically.
What do they do? They sit there for a while, taking up much-needed whiteboard space, slowly fading as the day goes by, being ignored by students and despised by teachers. And I mean really despised by teachers. The kind of dislike that bubbles up inside and creates burnout and anger, resulting in a poor school climate and morale. Hey admin, are they really worth it?
3. Standards on the board do not improve teaching.
If you’ve been in the classroom for more than a few years, like I have, you’ve probably noticed the ever-changing expectations around what we’re supposed to write on the board. We’ve seen it all: learning objectives, success criteria, student-friendly language, “I can” statements, learning intentions, standards, and now some hybrid mix of all of the above.
Has any of this ever actually improved our teaching? Have we ever walked into a team meeting and said, “You know what really boosted my students’ academic success? It was all the time we spent gazing at the whiteboard, soaking in the standards. In all of their glory. That’s when I really remembered my why!”
Let’s be real—Heck, NO!
We all know what truly improves teaching: being inspired by our curriculum, feeling excited to connect with our students, and—perhaps most importantly—having the time and space to plan meaningful, creative lessons. Writing standards on the board doesn’t support that process. In fact, it often takes time away from it.
We are not becoming better teachers; we are just becoming more compliant.
4. Writing standards wastes precious time.
Let’s be honest, we have about a million things to do that matter: preparing materials, meeting with parents, copying homework, grading papers, planning lessons, brainstorming with colleagues, analyzing data, putting up a bulletin board… and oh yeah, actually teaching a bit.
In the middle of all that, we’re expected to stop and carefully copy, word for freaking word, the standards from our scripted curriculum onto the whiteboard—standards we’re already reading aloud, teaching through, and weaving into every lesson. Does anyone else see the redundancy here? It’s like narrating a movie while it’s playing. Who is this for?
Yes, it’s for administrators who walk into your room during observation time and check a box to confirm that you have them there. I have heard of teachers being docked points because they were missing one word. True story.
Here’s the thing: the absolute worst thing you can ask a teacher to do is something they see no value in. Not only is it frustrating, but it also chips away at the already limited time we have to do the real work—the kind that actually helps students learn and grow.
Let’s focus on what is truly important.
In the end, teaching and learning are not improved by words that are ignored on the board. It is the passion, the purpose, and the preparation that teachers bring with them to the classroom. Mandating the posting of standards may check a box, but it doesn’t fill the heart.
Academic success doesn’t come from reading a bunch of words scribbled on the board. It comes from a teacher’s inspiration meeting a child’s motivation. It happens when students and teachers feel safe enough to take risks and explore the excitement of learning.
If we truly care about meaningful academic growth, let’s invest our energy in what matters most: building relationships, creating engaging lessons, and giving teachers the time and trust to do what they do best—teach.
