A version of this commentary appeared in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
Last week the Missouri House of Representatives passed a bill requiring the Department of Elementary and Secondary Education (DESE) to assign A–F letter grades to schools and districts statewide. The bill now heads to the Senate, which is considering its own version. The letter grades will be based entirely on student academic outcomes, primarily proficiency rates and growth in achievement. Districts and schools will be required to post their grades publicly.
The context for this legislation is Governor Kehoe’s executive order from January that mandates school and district A–F letter grades. The executive order ensures the grades are coming; the legislation is meant to refine the executive order and codify it.
All of this action signals considerable enthusiasm about school and district letter grades in the capital. Why? First, DESE’s current school report cards are difficult to interpret. They contain a mountain of data but fail to clearly indicate what matters most. For parents and taxpayers trying to understand how their local schools are performing, the information is overwhelming and comparisons across schools are difficult. Transparency that cannot be understood is not transparency at all.
Second, A–F letter grades are part of a small bundle of policies that other successful states are using to increase student learning. States with high national test scores (e.g., Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, Florida) assign A–F letter grades so parents and taxpayers can quickly understand how effective or ineffective their local schools are. The grades are a simple way to make schools accountable to the public. I wish Missouri were more of a leader; we’re not, but we can at least follow when other states blaze the trail.
Letter grades work because everyone understands what they mean. An “A” signals excellence. An “F” signals failure. And by making the grades based on proficiency and growth—rather than diluting them with peripheral and non-academic metrics—the new policy keeps attention where it belongs: on students’ academic outcomes.
Still, there are detractors. Critics worry the grades could stigmatize low-performing schools, which is an understandable concern. But at the end of the day, if we want real change, we must be willing to confront poor performance. Our schools are not fixing themselves. If we lack the courage to call out low performers, what hope is there for children trapped in the schools we’re so afraid to grade?
Another objection is that school grades are too simplistic—no single measure can capture everything a school does. Videos featuring students and teachers are circulating online cautioning that a letter grade doesn’t tell the whole story.
This is true—a letter grade doesn’t tell the whole story. However, academic achievement and growth are not minor details; they are central to a school’s mission. We must recognize that a letter grade based on these metrics tells a very important part of the story. To many, myself included, it is the most important part. Moreover, critics offer no compelling alternative, essentially responding with (my paraphrase) “trust us, we’re doing our best.”
The need to hold schools accountable might be less urgent if Missouri weren’t on a decade-long trajectory of declining academic achievement. We currently sit well below states like Mississippi and Louisiana—perpetual bottom-dwellers among states until relatively recently—in test score rankings based on the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP). And these rankings aren’t just numbers. A recent high-quality academic article shows that high NAEP scores correspond to higher incomes, improved educational attainment, and declines in teen motherhood, incarceration, and arrest rates.
I want these things for our children. And we can have them. This is not a zero-sum game. We just need to commit to success.
Opponents of letter grades don’t want us to put a label on failure. I understand. Acknowledging failure is uncomfortable and requires courage. But acknowledging failure is the first step in fixing anything, and our schools are no exception.
