Act Your Age Mitchell: The Power of Fairness in Grading Mitchell’s Work

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for showing up today with open hearts and open minds, ready to talk about something that matters deeply—not just for one boy named Mitchell, but for every single person who walks this Earth with different abilities, different challenges, and different ways of showing the world who they are.

Mitchell. Just his name puts a picture in your mind, doesn’t it? Maybe you’re thinking of a boy with a kind smile, with eyes that light up when you hand him a crayon or piece of clay. And you’d be right. Mitchell is in preschool. He’s a little older than the children sitting next to him—some might say far older for that classroom. He works slowly, carefully, a little differently than other kids. But this? This is where the magic lies. Mitchell isn’t just special needs. Mitchell isn’t just his diagnosis. He is a tapestry of potential. He’s here for a reason, and the things he creates, the way he learns—they matter. They matter in the way all of us matter.

Now, here’s the catch—a real one we’ve got to face head-on. Mitchell’s artwork, his handiwork, his little pencil-strokes and finger-paintings, don’t always look “like they should.” When he does activities like puzzles or letters, his work doesn’t fit into neat lines or lovely boxes. It’s not what you’d expect from a student in preschool—or second grade—or third grade, or wherever in your mind you think he “should” be. And that’s where the challenge begins, isn’t it? How do we grade his work? How do we evaluate Mitchell?

Here’s the answer you’ve been waiting for. Are you ready?

Fairly. No more. No less.

Fairly doesn’t mean easier. Fairly doesn’t mean harsher. Fairly means truly seeing Mitchell's work for what it is, not comparing him to what it isn’t. It means stepping out of the trap of looking at educational outcomes through a one-size-fits-all lens. Fair means asking the right questions. Questions like, “What does progress look like for Mitchell? What does success look like in his world? How do we credit his effort, his determination, his growth, his growth on his terms?”

Because effort counts. Growth counts. The smallest step forward for Mitchell might represent the kind of courage or willpower we couldn’t measure with traditional tools if our lives depended on it. And I’ll tell you something—I know this world doesn’t just hand out gold stars for effort. It’s a world where people sometimes need to produce results. I get it. But those results? They look different depending on who’s producing them. If you only measure the fish by its ability to climb a tree, you’re going to think the fish is failing. Wildly failing. And that’s on you, not the fish.

Mitchell’s work—his crayon marks, his scribbles that might not stay inside the lines—they speak volumes. That crumpled piece of paper in front of you might shout about his patience that day. Maybe what looks like messy handwriting was actually his strongest attempt at holding a pencil correctly. Maybe a crooked tower of blocks represents hours of tiny decisions and energy you cannot see unless you look closely. And isn’t that our task? To look closely? To pause. To acknowledge effort as much as outcome.

And yeah, this means you might feel discomfort. We’re programmed, most of us—from schooling, from work, from society at large—to think in terms of A or F, yes or no, pass or fail. But Mitchell...Mitchell doesn’t fit into those traditional binaries. And I say...thank God for that. Mitch gives us the opportunity to reimagine fairness, to think bigger.

Now is your chance—not just an obligation, but a privilege—to do the work of connection. You cannot take the shortcut with Mitchell. You can’t just glance at what he hands in, think, “Oh, this seems behind,” and toss it aside. No. You look deeper. You look human to human—not data to datafile, not test to rubric. You dig into what Mitchell’s work reveals about passion, potential, ability—not perceived limitations. This is YOUR chance to rise above grading systems that do not fit the incredible depth and diversity of the human spirit.

Of course, this might ask more of you as a grader. Because, yeah, it’s easier to measure apples against apples than to measure apples against galaxies—and Mitchell, my friends, is pure galaxy. There’s no guide for how the stars align in his mind. And that might intimidate you at first, but here’s what I need you to know. This moment—this process of grading him fairly—this is where YOU also transform. This isn’t just a lesson about Mitchell evolving; this is your opportunity to expand your compassion, your patience, your understanding of what potential really means.

And don't think for a second that Mitchell doesn’t notice how you grade his efforts. He feels it; he absorbs it. Little comments like “well done” versus a deeper acknowledgment can mean the world for him. If you see only scribbles while Mitchell intended worlds, he will feel your dismissal. But if you celebrate his intent, his process—even if the final result looks imperfect by textbook standards—you validate him. You tell him the truth about himself, and the truth is, HE is capable of greatness.

There’s beauty in this process—not just for Mitchell, but for all of us who get to witness it. And here’s something else to remember. Grading him fairly? It’s not about coddling or sheltering him from the realities of life or adulthood. No sir. When you approach his work with fairness and equity, you are actually preparing Mitchell for the real world in the best way possible. Because in the real world, you know what counts most? It’s not having a “perfect product” every time. It’s having the resilience to work for something, the courage to try again, and the discipline to believe change is possible.

Our lives are graded every day—sometimes by people, sometimes by achievements—but the only scores that matter are what’s tallied in our souls. Mitchell is racking up points beyond what anyone could imagine. He’s more aware than you think—aware when you see him. Aware when you don’t.

And sometimes, as educators, mentors, or even family members, the problem isn’t grading Mitchell. The challenge in front of us is grading ourselves. Are we doing OUR work correctly? Are we seeing him for what he’s achieving, or are we shackled by some arbitrary standard of perfection that doesn’t even serve us anymore? Answer these questions honestly, and it will revolutionize how you teach, parent, or guide not just Mitchell but others in your life who need you to truly see them.

Mitchell doesn’t have to fit the mold. He breaks it, and he is not weaker for it but stronger. And so are you when you choose to grade Mitchell’s potential, his resilience, his goodness in ways that reflect his reality—not someone else’s guess about what “grade level” he should be at.

How can you ensure fairness in Mitchell’s grades by shifting the focus from standardized benchmarks to his individual growth and effort? Are you considering his starting point, the challenges he faces, and the ways he works to overcome them? Fairness isn’t about lowering expectations—it’s about acknowledging his progress and resilience as vital parts of his achievements. Do his grades genuinely reflect his unique learning path and contributions, or are they constrained by comparisons to peers or rigid standards? By viewing fairness through the lens of equity, how can you celebrate Mitchell’s strengths while fostering an environment that builds his confidence and unlocks his potential?