If you’re a school administrator, chances are you have already started your teacher observations. And, you have a list of teachers you still need to observe, a few observations you need to write up, and a growing number of other things competing for your attention. I remember those days as a principal. I remember the satisfaction of checking another observation off my list and the frustration of realizing how quickly that list seemed to grow again.
In Michigan, the law requires us to do this work. Under MCL 380.1249, teachers must be observed at least twice in a year in which they are evaluated. Those observations must be followed by a conversation and written feedback within 30 calendar days. But the law also speaks to something more important than completing observations. It speaks to the fundamental leadership opportunity to develop teachers through constructive feedback, coaching, instructional support and professional development.
Here’s the question I think we need to ask ourselves: If we are already required to invest this much time and energy in observing teachers and providing feedback, how can we make that investment one of the most meaningful things we do as instructional leaders?
We can complete every observation, submit every evaluation, and meet every deadline without meaningfully improving teaching and learning in our schools. Compliance gets us into the classroom. What we do once we get there is up to us.
Position vs. Disposition
One of the things I often talk about with school leaders in our work around teacher growth and evaluation is the difference between position and disposition. As administrators, our position gives us the authority to observe, evaluate, and provide feedback to teachers. It also creates an inherent power dynamic. We have the ability to make consequential decisions about a teacher’s professional life, and teachers know that. Every time we walk into a classroom, our position walks in with us. But our position doesn’t have to define the nature of our relationship.
In his recent article, Confidence Has a Companion: Curiosity Makes Confidence Wiser, my colleague Colin Ripmaster explores how effective leaders balance confidence in their judgment with curiosity about what they might be missing. As we gain experience, he suggests, one of the greatest risks isn’t simply becoming overconfident. It’s becoming overly certain.
I think there is an important lesson in that for our work with teachers. Our knowledge of effective instruction and our experience observing classrooms give us confidence in our ability to recognize quality teaching. But that confidence can sometimes lead us to believe we understand more about a teacher’s practice than we actually do. We begin interpreting what we see before we have fully explored what it might mean.
Think about the difference between entering a classroom to determine how well a teacher is doing and entering that same classroom genuinely curious about their practice and invested in their growth. Our responsibilities haven’t changed, but the relationship we create can change considerably. When teachers see us as partners in their learning, they are more likely to share challenges, ask questions, and take the kinds of instructional risks that lead to growth. We can move from a relationship in which teachers feel the need to demonstrate their competence to one in which they feel empowered to develop it.
This doesn’t mean we relinquish our responsibilities as evaluators or lower our expectations for instructional practice. Quite the opposite. It means we recognize that our role isn’t simply to identify the gap between current practice and what we know is possible. Our role is to help teachers close that gap. Our position makes us the evaluator. Our disposition can make us a partner in learning.
Three Stances for Instructional Leadership
In our work with school leaders, we encourage teachers to identify a manageable set of three to five areas of instructional focus. These areas emerge from reflection on their practice, an understanding of their students’ learning needs, and the broader priorities of their school or district. Ideally, they connect to one another in service of a meaningful professional growth goal.
Consider a middle school science teacher who has identified three areas of focus: quality of questioning, design of performance tasks and use of formative assessment. The teacher wants students to move beyond providing correct answers to explaining their reasoning, supporting their thinking with evidence and developing a deeper understanding of the content. The teacher also wants to get better at using what students say, do and produce to make instructional decisions.
The teacher and principal have discussed these areas of focus, what growth might look like, and what evidence they might collect to understand progress over time. Now imagine the principal enters the classroom during a lesson in which students are examining data from an investigation about how the amount of light affects plant growth. The teacher asks students to make a claim, select evidence from the data and explain how that evidence supports their claim.
During a whole-class discussion, the teacher asks several questions that prompt students to explain their reasoning. Four students share their thinking, two referencing specific measurements from the investigation. As students move into independent work, the teacher circulates, looks at their responses, and asks several students to elaborate on their thinking. At the end of the lesson, students complete a short written explanation that the teacher collects.
There is a great deal here for an administrator to consider. But what happens next depends, in large part, on the leadership stances the principal brings to the work.
A Strength-Based Stance
When we talk about strength-based feedback, I sometimes worry that we confuse it with being overtly positive. We tell a teacher they did a great job, find something to compliment, and then move on to what we really want them to work on. It’s the old feedback sandwich. While there is nothing wrong with encouraging teachers, strength-based leadership is something more substantive. It begins with understanding what a teacher already knows and can do.
Think about what we expect of teachers in their work with students. We want them to understand their students as learners, recognize their strengths and identify the next steps that will move their learning forward. We understand the importance of the Zone of Proximal Development, that space between what learners can do independently and what they can do with appropriate support. Yet, in our work with adults, we sometimes jump from identifying what a teacher is currently doing to describing everything we want them to be doing.
In our science classroom, the principal has evidence of a teacher who has designed a task that requires students to engage in scientific reasoning. Students are making claims, examining data and explaining their thinking. The teacher is asking questions that encourage students to elaborate on their reasoning.
These are important strengths to recognize because they provide a foundation for what comes next. Rather than simply looking for what is missing, the principal can help the teacher recognize the practices they are developing and how those practices create opportunities for student learning. That strength-based affirmation isn’t a compliment. It’s confidence and competence building.
The teacher doesn’t need to start over. They need to build from what they can already do. And, importantly, they need to have ownership of that next step. Our job is to help teachers see what is possible, understand why it matters for students, and identify a path forward they can pursue with our support.
But before the principal can help our teacher determine that next step, there is more to understand.
An Inquiry-Based Stance
As a principal, I often felt that part of my job was to have answers. Teachers came to me with questions, challenges and problems to solve. Over time, however, I came to appreciate that some of the most valuable contributions I could make started with a question rather than an answer.
This is where Colin’s discussion of curiosity becomes particularly relevant. We can be confident in our understanding of effective instruction while remaining curious about a teacher’s practice.
Our principal has collected evidence from the observation. They might already have some initial impressions about what the teacher is doing well and where there might be opportunities for growth. But before analyzing that evidence and providing feedback, there is an important conversation to have with the teacher.
When we enter a classroom, we are entering a learning experience that is already underway. The teacher has made countless decisions about the content, their students, the design of the lesson and what they hope to accomplish. We see a portion of that experience. What we don’t necessarily see is the thinking behind those decisions.
In our work with school leaders, we talk about the importance of noticing and wondering. A noticing names something we observed, often connected to the teacher’s areas of focus. A wondering invites the teacher to help us understand what we observed.
Consider how that conversation might unfold with our science teacher.
“You created an opportunity for your students to share their thinking during the whole-class discussion, and two used specific data from the investigation to support their explanations. What were you hoping to learn about students’ understanding through that conversation? What informed your decision to have those students share?”
The teacher explains that students had discussed their claims in small groups earlier in the lesson and that these four students had been intentionally selected because their explanations represented different ways of interpreting the data.
The principal then asks about the independent work.
“As students were writing their explanations, I noticed you circulated, looked at their responses and asked several students to elaborate on their thinking. What were you noticing in their work that prompted those questions? What did their responses tell you about their understanding?”
The teacher shares that, while students were generally able to identify relevant data, many were struggling to explain why that data supported their claim. The questions were intended to help students make that connection. The written explanations collected at the end of the lesson were designed to determine whether students could do that independently.
The principal now has a more complete picture of the teacher’s practice. What might initially have appeared to be a concern about participation reflects an intentional instructional decision. What looked like a teacher circulating around the classroom reveals a teacher using evidence of student thinking to inform the questions they ask. Neither tells us everything we need to know about the impact of those practices, but both help us understand what to examine and why.
There is something strength-based about this conversation, too. We are creating opportunities for the teacher to articulate the thinking behind their practice and recognize their developing expertise. We are not asking questions because we want the teacher to arrive at our conclusion. We are asking because their answers might change ours.
An inquiry-based stance isn’t about withholding our expertise or turning every recommendation into a question. Sometimes teachers need us to provide direction, share a resource, or model a practice. But the better we understand the teacher’s thinking, the more likely we are to provide feedback that is relevant and useful.
An Equity-Based Stance
Equity in instructional leadership requires us to think about both the teachers we support and the students they serve. Just as students enter classrooms with different strengths, experiences, and learning needs, so do teachers. An equity-based stance means maintaining high expectations for all teachers while recognizing that the support each teacher needs to meet those expectations may look different.
It also requires us to examine our own assumptions. Are we evaluating the quality of instructional practice or how closely a teacher’s approach aligns with our preferences? Do we approach the teacher we consider highly effective with the same curiosity and attention to evidence as the teacher we believe is struggling? Seeking to understand a teacher’s thinking before analyzing their practice helps us guard against those assumptions.
Equity also challenges us to consider whose learning we are paying attention to. In our science classroom, we heard four students share their thinking and learned why the teacher selected them. But what do we know about the students whose thinking we didn’t hear?
The teacher and principal examine the written explanations collected at the end of the lesson. They discover that most students can make a claim about plant growth and identify relevant data, but only some can explain how that data supports their claim. Interestingly, several students who contributed little during the discussion produced thoughtful written explanations, while some of the most vocal students are still struggling to connect their evidence to their claims.
This is an important distinction. The students who were most visible during the lesson were not necessarily the students who demonstrated the greatest understanding.
Now the teacher and principal have a more meaningful question to explore. How can the teacher make more students’ reasoning visible during instruction and use that evidence to address individual learning needs before the lesson ends?
Notice how the conversation has evolved. We haven’t simply identified a strategy to increase participation. We have identified an opportunity to build on the teacher’s existing practices in questioning, performance tasks, and formative assessment to better understand and support the learning of all students.
An equity stance challenges us to see the potential in every teacher and to consider the learning experiences of every student. Ultimately, our commitment to teacher growth is a commitment to expanding opportunities for the children in their classrooms.
Let the Evidence Do the Work
Having collected evidence from the observation, engaged in a conversation to understand the teacher’s thinking, and examined additional evidence of student learning, the principal is now in a position to analyze the teacher’s practice.
This is where our instructional framework or rubric becomes particularly valuable. A quality framework provides a shared understanding of effective instruction and a continuum along which instructional practice can develop. It gives us a common lens through which we examine evidence together, understand current practice, and consider what growth might look like.
In this case, the principal returns to the teacher’s three areas of focus. The performance task requires students to apply scientific concepts and engage in reasoning. The teacher’s questions probe student thinking and uncover gaps in understanding. And the teacher is beginning to use evidence of that thinking to inform instructional decisions. The students’ written explanations help identify where those practices might develop next.
Think about how different the feedback could have been if the principal had simply returned to their office after the observation and written:
You did a great job engaging students in a rigorous learning task. I loved your questioning and the way you circulated around the classroom. As you continue to grow, consider involving more students in the discussion and using formative assessment to guide your instruction.
It’s positive. It’s connected to the teacher’s areas of focus. It even offers some direction for improvement. But what does the teacher actually learn from it? Compare that with feedback informed by the evidence, the conversation with the teacher and the analysis of practice:
During the lesson, you asked students to make a claim about plant growth and use data to explain their reasoning. When you asked, “What in your data makes you say that?” two students referenced specific measurements from the investigation. In our conversation, you shared how you used students’ independent work to determine what questions to ask next. The task you designed and the questions you asked created opportunities for students to make their scientific thinking visible.
As we examined their written explanations together, we noticed that most students could make a claim and identify relevant data, but several were still struggling to explain how that evidence supported their claim. Building on your work in questioning, performance tasks, and formative assessment, how might you gather evidence of more students’ reasoning during the lesson and use it to make instructional adjustments before they complete their independent explanations?
The difference between these two pieces of feedback isn’t that one is positive and the other is critical. It’s that one tells the teacher what the principal thought, while the other helps the teacher understand something about their practice. Rather than relying on opinions or superlatives, it names what the teacher can do, connects that practice to evidence of student learning and helps the teacher identify a meaningful next step. The evidence should drive the conversation. The framework should inform our interpretation. Our opinions, preferences and impressions should not substitute for either.
That doesn’t mean we eliminate professional judgment from the process. It means we exercise that judgment responsibly, grounded in evidence and shared expectations. There is something powerful about sitting next to a teacher and examining evidence of their practice together. The conversation becomes less about whether the teacher agrees with the principal and more about what we can learn together about teaching and learning. When we let the evidence do the work, we create space for collaboration rather than compliance.
Making Feedback Part of the Learning Process
Our science teacher now has an opportunity to build on the practices they have already developed. After reflecting on the feedback, the teacher decides to introduce a short written response before the whole-class discussion. Each student will make a claim, select evidence and begin explaining their reasoning. The teacher plans to review those responses, identify common gaps in understanding, and use that information to determine the questions they ask and the additional support students need.
The principal helps the teacher think through some of those questions and connects them with a colleague who is doing similar work. Together, they determine what evidence would help them understand whether the adjustment is making a difference.
Notice that the teacher’s three areas of focus aren’t three separate things to check off a list. They are interconnected. A performance task that requires students to explain their reasoning creates opportunities for more meaningful questioning. The responses to those questions provide evidence of student thinking. And that evidence, when used formatively, helps the teacher make instructional decisions that move student learning forward.
When the principal returns to the classroom, the observation has a purpose that extends beyond completing another requirement. The teacher and principal can examine how the practice has evolved, what the teacher is learning about students, and whether more students are developing the ability to explain their reasoning.
Perhaps they discover that the written responses are helping the teacher better understand students’ thinking, but the questions still aren’t pushing students to explain the relationship between their evidence and their claims. That becomes the next opportunity for learning. Or perhaps students are producing more sophisticated explanations, and the teacher is ready to explore how students might begin evaluating and refining their own reasoning.
Once again, the principal collects evidence, seeks to understand the teacher’s thinking, and uses that understanding to inform analysis and feedback. The teacher has another opportunity to reflect, learn and determine what comes next. This is what turns a series of observations into a process for professional growth.
Consider what we expect of teachers when they provide feedback to students. We want students to know what they are working toward, understand their current level of performance, identify their next steps, and have opportunities to use feedback to improve. We want teachers to monitor that progress and adjust their instruction and support accordingly. Are we creating those same conditions for the teachers we lead?
A Leadership Practice
Before your next classroom observation, take a few minutes to revisit the teacher’s areas of focus. What are they working to improve, and why does it matter for their students? As you observe, challenge yourself to separate what you see and hear from what you think it means.
Then, before analyzing the evidence and providing feedback, have a conversation with the teacher. Share something you noticed and ask a genuine question about their practice. Listen for something that might expand your understanding or challenge your initial interpretation.
Consider what you have learned alongside the evidence you collected, and use your instructional framework to help you understand what that evidence reveals. Name a strength the teacher can build upon, help them identify and take ownership of a meaningful next step, and determine how you will support their continued growth.
We all have that list of observations to complete. We have deadlines to meet, evaluations to conduct and responsibilities we can’t simply set aside. But we also have a choice in how we approach that work.
We don’t need a different evaluation framework to begin doing this work differently. We need to be more intentional about the work we are already doing. Our position requires us to observe and evaluate teachers. Our disposition shapes what that work becomes. The measure of our success as instructional leaders isn’t the number of observations we complete. It’s what our teachers and students are able to do as a result of our work.