Celebrate the Gains: What the First Semester Really Shows Us About Growth

“The December spiral … prevents us from seeing the slow, meaningful gains our students are actually making.”

Every year around mid-December, I find myself slipping into the same familiar pattern of thought—whether I’m teaching my own classes or working with teachers across districts and states. In my own classroom, I used to look at the calendar and suddenly hear an internal list begin to rattle off: We didn’t quite finish that lesson. The mini-unit on commentary never fully took off. Too many still struggle with their thesis statements. My students still hesitate to take interpretive risks. We didn’t get as far as I’d hoped.

I’ve realized that this instinct is so common among English teachers that it almost feels like part of the rhythm of the profession—plan, teach, assess, PANIC. But over time—after teaching, coaching, observing, and reading what the research actually says about learning—I’ve come to believe the December spiral is not only unnecessary but counterproductive. It prevents us from seeing the slow, meaningful gains our students are actually making.

This is not about being “Pollyanna-ish.” I’ve never believed in sugarcoating the work, and I’ve seen enough classrooms to know that real challenges demand real attention. But facing those challenges is easier—and far more accurate—when we ground ourselves in the truth: students grow more than we give them credit for, especially when we slow down long enough to notice the gains.

Why We Fixate on What’s Missing

English teachers are planners, organizers, anticipators. We’re constantly charting and revising a course for learning that is layered, recursive, and targeted. So when December arrives, it’s easy to measure our semester by what remains undone.

I’ve worked with teachers who felt discouraged because they “only” got through three major writing assignments—or who worried they hadn’t addressed vocabulary or grammar as systematically as planned. I have felt this too. But when I look at the actual work students produce, another story emerges.

Students who struggled to write three coherent sentences in August are now crafting paragraphs with an identifiable internal logic. Readers who skimmed everything for plot now ask questions, make predictions, and pull on thematic threads. Writers who refused revision in September are now making intentional changes based on peer and teacher feedback.

These gains are easy to miss if we focus solely on coverage or completion. Yet as Linda Darling-Hammond and her colleagues remind us, learning is not linear, and deep skills do not develop in tidy increments. Literacy is a “slow thinking” discipline; growth accumulates through repeated engagement, not one-and-done mastery.

When we evaluate our semester only by what we didn’t complete, we fall into what Carol Dweck would call a fixed mindset about teaching—a belief that success equals perfection, coverage, or flawless execution. But the research—and our lived practice—tells us something much different.

Growth in ELA Is Slow, Complex, and Often Invisible Until We Name It

Some of the most important gains students make in our classrooms cannot be seen on a pacing guide or an assessment report (though those things are important and necessary). They appear in the margins of their writing, in the questions they begin to ask, in the confidence that slowly builds as they discover they can read complex texts and contribute meaningfully to discussion.

Over the years, I’ve come to trust that progress often looks like:

• A student moving from summary toward interpretation.
• A hesitant writer taking a risk with commentary even if it isn’t perfect.
• A struggling reader annotating with intention instead of decoration.
• A disengaged student suddenly raising a hand when a text resonates.
• A writer attempting a more complex sentence structure after weeks of scaffolding.

Anders Ericsson’s research on deliberate practice reinforces what we see in these moments: improvement comes from sustained, purposeful work—not from speed or “getting through” content. When students read, write, revise, and talk regularly—even if imperfectly—they grow.

But they can’t recognize that growth unless we help them see it.

And we can’t honor it unless we stop—ourselves—long enough to name it.

Celebrating Growth Is Not Patronizing—It’s Pedagogically Responsible

I’ve heard teachers say, “I don’t want to offer praise that feels fake or soft.” I understand that instinct; students know when we’re patronizing them and such praise can even have the opposite effect of what we want and they need it to. But celebrating growth doesn’t mean saying “good job” for minimal effort. It means identifying real, specific, observable gains:

• “Your commentary now explains rather than restates the evidence.”
• “You’re sustaining your argument across the full paragraph.”
• “You’re noticing rhetorical moves you missed earlier in the year.”
• “Your annotations now reflect thinking, not just highlighting.”
  
  

Dylan Wiliam’s work on formative assessment is clear: students need not just feedback but evidence of their own progress. When students can see they are improving, they are more willing to endure struggle, take risks, and engage deeply.

I’ve watched students transform when they realize they are not the same readers and writers they were in August. The shift is visible—shoulders drop, confidence lifts, and learning becomes something they believe they can shape rather than something being done to them.

This brings me to what can sometimes be a contentious subject when I am working with schools or teachers… Holiday/Winter Break homework.

Don’t Assign Homework Over the Holiday Break 

This might be the place where my experience diverges from some long-held traditions, but I’ll say it plainly: I stopped assigning homework over the holiday break years ago, and my students—and I—were better for it. I continue advocating against this in my consulting and coaching work. 

Not assigning homework is not about being “soft” or lowering expectations. In fact, it’s the opposite: it’s about honoring the conditions that actually support growth.

Here’s what I’ve learned—and what the research supports:

1. Growth Requires Rest (Not More Tasks)

Students cannot reflect on or consolidate their learning if they never get a cognitive pause. Neuroscientists like Matthew Walker note that rest and reduced cognitive load strengthen long-term retention and creative problem-solving.

If we claim to value a growth mindset, we must also value the rest that makes growth possible.

2. Break Homework Creates Pressure, Not Progress

Nothing undermines a celebration of learning faster than turning it into a chore students must carry through a family-packed or emotionally complicated break. When students associate English class with ongoing demands during a time meant for renewal, we unintentionally weaken the motivation we need from them in January.

A student who returns rested comes back ready for rigor.

A student who returns resentful comes back resistant to it.

3. Equity Matters Even When We’re Tired

Over the break, some students will travel, some will work, some will care for siblings, and some will navigate instability. Homework widens gaps. Break widens none.

4. Restored Teachers Teach Better

When I return from break having actually stepped away—no essays to grade, no packets to check—I teach with more creativity, more perspective, and more energy. My students feel that. The growth mindset is not just theirs to cultivate; it’s ours.

When teachers and students return rested, we are more likely to notice, build on, and accelerate the growth that began in the fall. Rest, in this sense, is not a break from learning—it is an essential part of learning.

Starting January with Clarity and Celebration

When the second semester begins, always take time to show students how far they’ve come. Look at writing samples from August. Reread a text (or part of one) from September and show them what they can do now. Compare old annotations to new ones. Reflect on how their thinking has changed.

These acts—simple but profound—reframe the entire semester ahead. Instead of beginning January with the weight of what they haven’t mastered, students begin with a sense of momentum. And momentum breeds motivation.

A culture rooted in a growth mindset is not naïve, soft, or unrealistic. It is honest. It is research-informed. It honors the actual arc of learning. And it empowers students and teachers to face challenges with energy instead of dread.

When we celebrate growth, we create the conditions for even more of it.

References

Bransford, J. D., Brown, A. L., & Cocking, R. R. (Eds.). (2000). How people learn: Brain, mind, experience, and school. National Academies Press.

Darling-Hammond, L., Austin, K., Cheung, M., & Martin, D. (2003). Thinking about thinking: Metacognition. Stanford University School of Education.

Deci, E. L., & Ryan, R. M. (2000). The “what” and “why” of goal pursuits: Human needs and the self-determination of behavior. Psychological Inquiry, 11(4), 227–268.

Dweck, C. S. (2006). Mindset: The new psychology of success. Random House.

Ericsson, K. A., & Pool, R. (2016). Peak: Secrets from the new science of expertise. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Walker, M. (2017). Why we sleep: Unlocking the power of sleep and dreams. Scribner.

Wiliam, D. (2011). Embedded formative assessment. Solution Tree Press.