

When a child comes home after a day of assessments, the most common question parents ask tends to be: "What grade did you get?" It is an understandable question — for a long time, the grade was the official thermometer of learning. But it leaves out something far more important: what the child thought, attempted, revised, and discovered along the way.
The conception of assessment that guides our work begins from a different premise. We believe that to assess is, above all, an act of listening. It means observing how a student reasons, how they face a problem they do not yet know how to solve, how they recognize their own mistakes, and what they do with them. This does not mean abandoning academic rigor — it means practicing it with depth.
"A child who knows they made a mistake, who understands why they made it, and who knows how to improve is far better prepared for the world than one who memorized the right answer."
There are two broad types of assessment in education. Summative assessment is the kind that takes place at the end of a period to record what has been learned — the end-of-term exam is the most classic example. Formative assessment, on the other hand, happens throughout the process, continuously, with the goal of informing and adjusting teaching while learning is still underway.
In our pedagogical model, formative assessment is not an instrument running alongside the lesson — it is part of the lesson. A teacher who moves around the room observing how each child is solving a problem, who asks open questions to understand a student's reasoning, or who asks students to explain in their own words what they have understood: all of this is assessment. Continuous, integrated, human.
SUMMATIVE ASSESSMENT
A photograph of learning at the end of a journey. It records the result.
FORMATIVE ASSESSMENT
A video of learning in motion. It accompanies and guides the process.
One of the greatest transformations this approach brings is the very nature of feedback. When assessment exists only to assign a grade, the response to the student tends to be a single word or a number — and the cycle ends right there. In the formative model, feedback is the beginning of a conversation between teaching and learning.
These three questions shape the way our teachers return students' work. The aim is not merely to tell students where they have arrived, but to help them see where they can go — and to develop the ability to read that for themselves over time.
This practice has a name in educational research: feedback as a process. And the studies are consistent: children who receive descriptive, improvement-oriented feedback learn more, engage more, and develop a healthier relationship with mistakes than those who receive only grades.
Another pillar of our model is what we call skill progression. Rather than assessing only whether a student does or does not know a given piece of content, we follow how their skills develop over time — with clear milestones, communicated transparently to families.
A six-year-old still building fluency in reading is not "behind" if they know exactly where they are and what the next step up is. The perspective shifts: instead of comparison with classmates, the point of reference is each student's own journey. This does not mean an absence of expectations — it means calibrated expectations, accompanied by real support so that they can be met.
In our progress records, families have access to a descriptive account of their child's development — not just what the child knows, but how they think, how they collaborate, how they persist in the face of challenges. It is a fuller and more useful picture than a column of grades.
This entire model only works when it is supported by a school culture that treats mistakes as natural. Not as failure, not as shame — but as data. As information about where thinking still needs to develop.
Researcher Carol Dweck, of Stanford University, devoted decades to studying what distinguishes students who persist in the face of difficulty from those who give up. The conclusion is well known: children who believe that intelligence is something that can grow — the so-called growth mindset — do better in the long run than those who believe that ability is fixed. And the school plays a central role in building that belief.
When a teacher says "you haven't gotten there yet, but look how far you've come" instead of "wrong again," they are planting something that goes far beyond the subject at hand. They are teaching the child how to relate to their own process of learning — a skill they will carry for the rest of their life.
"We don't just teach content. We teach children how to learn — and that begins with the way we respond to their mistakes."
Yes. Formal performance records are part of the school journey — not least because families have the right to know clearly how their children are progressing. What changes is not the existence of records, but what they communicate and how they are used.
Instead of a grade that closes a conversation, we seek records that open one. Records that say something true about what the child has achieved — and that point, with honesty and care, to what is still to come. This is our commitment to every family: not only to inform, but to follow.
Karin Sanches is the Director of Cultura Inglesa Bilingual School Mooca. An educator with 27 years of experience, she holds a degree in Pedagogy and a postgraduate qualification in Bilingual Education, is pursuing an MBA in School Management at USP/Esalq, and has completed training in educational leadership at the Harvard Graduate School of Education. Throughout her career, she has led teams, implemented international curricula, and developed pedagogical practices focused on meaningful learning, critical thinking, and the holistic development of students. Her work is guided by the building of collaborative, inclusive, and academically challenging educational environments, aligned with the principles of global education.