This has happened more than a few times in the past couple of years, and every time, it makes me feel sad. A student receives a 94.5% on a piece of work, which at our school means the work is “Advanced.” It meets the highest benchmark on our rubric. And yet the first question is: “Why didn’t I get a 100%?” 

In some ways, I understand where the question is coming from. Students work hard; they want to do their best. And numbers carry weight. Maybe it’s natural to want the highest number possible (if that’s what 100 really is). But that question also tells me that we may not all share the same understanding of what grades are meant to communicate, especially in classes that challenge students to demonstrate understanding in ways that reach beyond just filling in the correct bubble.

The first thing to remember is that not all assessments work the same way. On a multiple-choice quiz, there are right answers. You can literally count them. If there are 20 questions and you get all 20 right, you earn 100%. That makes sense. The task is objective. But essays, projects, performances, and presentations are not the same. They ask you to make choices, to interpret, to build an argument, or to create something on your own. There isn’t a one-size-fits-all answer key. When I evaluate that kind of work, I’m not just counting errors. I’m looking at the overall quality of the thinking. Rubrics and shared standards help keep that process consistent, and teachers calibrate with colleagues so we’re aligned. But professional judgment is still part of it. That’s the nature of evaluating complex work.

At Chadwick we define performance levels explicitly. “Advanced” is 94.5%, “Proficient” is 84.5%, etc. Those numbers are intentional. That 94.5 is the exact midpoint of the A-range. In other words, we are suggesting that excellence can exist across a range. Advanced does not mean perfect. It’s a signal that the work demonstrates a high level of skill, depth, and understanding. 

I get it, the numbers matter. That’s why we’ve thought very deliberately about the grades scale we use at Chadwick. We believe there’s a difference between striving for excellence and wanting a perfect score. No essay, project, or performance is flawless. Award-winning authors revise their work many times before publication. Architects redraw models multiple times before construction. Elite athletes study film even after championship games. Excellence is the willingness to keep finding ways to stretch and improve and push the envelope.

So a 94.5% doesn’t mean that something was missing or taken away. It’s our professional judgment that your work shows advanced thinking. It may also suggest that there is still room to grow, because there is always room to grow. That is not a bug in our system, but rather an intentional feature. And it’s certainly not a statement about your worth as a human.

Perhaps the more productive response to a 94.5% is not “Why wasn’t this perfect?” but “What did I do well, and where can I push my thinking next?”