When SMART Goals Aren’t That Smart
Continuing our Fall Book Study with a reflection on Chapter 3
Today I want to reflect a bit about SMART goals—and why I don’t think they’re always that smart as far as the impact they have on our classrooms.
Before I dive in, however, just a quick reminder that this post continues our Fall Book Study of
’s Becoming an Everyday Changemaker: Healing and Justice at School.In each post, you’ll find a brief summary of the week’s chapter, a reflection, and then a series of discussion questions for everyone to engage with in the comments. You can follow along with our journey through this incredible book here, too, with links to each week’s post and conversation. (Link to
’s Chapter 2 reflection here, too, in case you missed it!)And while we definitely encourage you to read this phenomenal book, these reflections are written to be meaningful even if you haven’t got to it yet—and please feel free to join in the discussion regardless!
I think we all have something to say about SMART goals, after all…
A Brief Summary of Chapter 3
Chapter 3 of Becoming an Everyday Changemaker very much takes an asset lens into the process of change, especially the opportunities that can be found within it. As Venet asks on page 60, “[w]hat if we framed school change as a way to build more connections and care? To move closer together as a community?”
From embracing uncertainty and adaptability to more-intentionally “centering those on the margins” (66), Venet offers several ways to consider what change can be in a school community with more curiosity and hope. And, ultimately, Venet lays out a vision of “reclaim[ing] our agency” as educators through the process of change, not just as a result of it (70).
If you walk into my classroom and look at the walls, you will see many things: a very-large octopus poster; a bulletin board covered with brilliant quotes from student writing; a listing of our classroom core beliefs; as well as your typical grab bag of posted agendas, skills and essential questions for each course I teach.
You’ll also see some prominent posters with student learning graphs like this:
I definitely recognize that this goes against the stereotype of ELA teachers, but I’m actually someone who loves data. Spreadsheets and statistics are my jam—don’t even get me started about conditional formatting!—and, as I’ve reflected on before, I’m a big believer that as a teacher I’m responsible for being able to provide evidence of student learning in my classroom.
So yes, you’ll find these graphs on the walls of my classroom.
But. (You knew there was a “but” coming, right?)
I found myself nodding enthusiastically in Chapter 3 when I came across this mic-drop line from Venet:
If you’re in education, you more than likely not only know what a SMART goal is—you also likely can recite the acronym’s meanings from memory:
Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, and Time-bound.
Seems like a logical thing to prioritize, right, as a classroom teacher?
What may look “smart” on paper, however, rarely meets the complex reality of our various classrooms and myriad student learning experiences within each of them. Just like in the graphs pictured above that offer visuals of class averages, the story being told by most spreadsheets of student data is only the tip of the iceberg of the actual experience of each individual student.
Toss in that many schools end up centering SMART goals relying upon standardized testing results that arrive after students have already moved on to a different classroom and teacher, and I think a lot of us teachers reading Chapter 3 feel very spoken to when Venet admits, “I can’t even tell you how many SMART goals I have written and immediately abandoned, never to revisit again” (62).
Yep.
And here’s my “hot take” today: I think that’s okay.
Something worth noting is that SMART goals originate from a corporate lens, not an organic, time-proven educational philosophy or pedagogy. There is not consensus that SMART goals have been proven to work in any sector, business or education, and the positive indicators are nowhere near to the point of justifying the gospel-like pedestal the practice holds in education quite frequently.
Now, I don’t think starting the year with a thoughtful consideration of what a SMART goal would look like for a given classroom is inherently harmful, yet the complicated reality of the classroom means that we need to avoid and resist any confinements placed on our classroom that limit our ability as teachers to meet the ongoing, ever-changing needs of our students.
And a SMART goal can be one of those confinements, unfortunately.
The needs of our students are not always measurable and, at least within our classroom, they may not be achievable. (Don’t get even get me started on “time-bound.”) It’s okay and even important to have the humility to name that.
As teachers we are too often confronted with the challenge of those outside the classroom trying to limit our ability to be flexible and embrace change within the classroom. Not just with SMART goals, either, but also with scripted curricula and mandated use of purchased online programs and over-allocation of instructional time to standardized test prep—which together can quickly make our classroom walls feel like they are closing in on us and limiting what our already-challenging classrooms can become rather than elevating them.
Which brings me back to what Venet wrote earlier in Chapter 3:
The certainty of a fixed path forward may be comfortable, and even pragmatic, but it is also a forfeiture of where we can go and what the classroom can be for students.
There are some white flags that should never be waved.
So let’s return to my aforementioned classroom walls and the “data” that I have posted to track student learning across class periods over the year.
Yes, it is a good thing to know what students have learned. Yes, it is a good thing to be share that data with students and families whenever you can. And yes, it can be healthy to set goals as a teacher for individual students and the classroom as a whole.
But (here we go again!) if you feel those SMART goals starting to become limitations on your classroom that impede your ability to respond authentically to the needs of your students and stifle your flexibility and creativity as a teacher?
Then those goals aren’t that smart after all, are they?
What did everyone else think about Chapter 3?
If you’re reading along with us, we highly encourage you to jump into the comments to share your own reaction—what did you think of the third chapter of this book and how did it resonate with your own experience?
Feel free to respond to the discussion questions above, or to pose your own questions, too! (Reminder: you do not need to have a Substack account or subscribe to join the conversation.) You also have full, enthusiastic permission to go ahead and share this post out to anyone else you think might enjoy the conversation!
See you in the comments—and then next week at Adrian’s Newsletter to talk about the fourth chapter of this book!
As a Special Education teacher this section of the book really challenged me and I’m still grappling with because so much of my work focuses on goal-setting and measuring progress. I agree with Venet that SMART goals stem from a corporate mindset and yet I also have seen students make progress when the student, family, and teachers understand and agree on the specific goals they’re working toward. Now that I’m thinking about it, to be honest, I think SMART goals can work as long as there’s student agency and voice in choosing their goals. The part of SMART that I’ve always had difficulty with is the T - there are just so many factors with humans - let alone children - to make every goal “time-bound” especially guaranteeing it within one school year…this gave me a lot to think about! Looking forward to reading others’ thoughts
I really resonated with Venet's change process opportunities. Each of her opportunities are things I deeply care about. I'm most hopeful about using the change process to "practice care and be more human together." As Venet states on page 60, "care happens in community." My classroom community is something I unapologetically put above everything else; even academics.