Storytelling as Assessment (R)evolution: A Friday SLO Talk That Redefined How We Measure Learning
There was a hum of anticipation in the air as Daphne Bernard from Howard University and Glenn Phillips from Watermark took to the virtual stage for what promised to be more than just a typical assessment discussion. The title alone—Storytelling as Assessment (R)evolution—hinted at something deeper, more profound. This wasn’t going to be a dry conversation about data points or compliance checklists. It was about reimagining the very way we think about student learning, and as the discussion unfolded, it became clear that this was, indeed, an evolution.
From the first words of welcome, Daphne Bernard set the stage with a powerful reminder of the rich history of Howard University. “Context matters,” she said, her voice steady with conviction. “Howard was established as a place for those who were once enslaved to find freedom through education. And today, our mission is no less important.” Bernard’s introduction immediately grounded the conversation in something larger than assessment—it was about legacy, transformation, and the telling of a powerful story. Howard University’s story.
Quote #1: “Context matters. Howard was established for those who were once enslaved to find freedom through education.”
The tone was set: this was not just another institutional conversation. It was about people, about change, and about ensuring that stories are told, not forgotten. And then, Glenn Phillips took the baton, with an almost conspiratorial tone. He leaned into the camera and said, “We didn’t even know storytelling was part of the assessment process, and yet, it was there all along.” It was a moment of revelation, as if the audience collectively realized that they too had been storytellers, but just hadn’t recognized it yet.
Quote #2: “We didn’t even know storytelling was part of the assessment process, and yet, it was there all along.”
Phillips began recounting how he and Bernard were tasked with preparing for a Middle States accreditation visit—an often stressful, numbers-heavy exercise in proving institutional success. But this time, something different happened. They were asked to do something revolutionary: tell the story of Howard University. For Phillips, who had previously worked in a compliance-oriented environment, this suggestion seemed almost heretical. “In my mind,” he confessed, “I thought, we don’t care about stories. There’s a formula for accreditation. You say, ‘We are compliant, we are compliant, we are compliant,’ and that’s that.”
Quote #3: “We don’t care about stories. There’s a formula: ‘We are compliant, we are compliant, we are compliant.’”
But that formula didn’t fit Howard, and it was clear to both Bernard and Phillips that something more profound was required. Storytelling allowed them to bring the institution’s uniqueness to life. Bernard explained how storytelling could capture not just what they did right, but how they did it, and more importantly, why it mattered. “Howard’s story is not just about compliance,” she said. “It’s about excellence. It’s about telling the world who we are, why we matter, and why our students matter.”
Quote #4: “Howard’s story is not just about compliance. It’s about telling the world who we are, why we matter, and why our students matter.”
As the conversation deepened, it became clear that storytelling wasn’t just a tool for accreditation—it was a way of ensuring that no detail of the student or faculty experience was lost to time. Phillips recalled how, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, faculty were overwhelmed, struggling to manage classes, their lives, and an unprecedented global crisis. Yet, in those moments, storytelling became even more vital. “I had professors who told me, ‘I didn’t even grade my students’ papers. We were all on fire. I just gave them all A’s because they showed up,’” Phillips recalled, to a ripple of laughter. “And I said, ‘Write that. That’s your story. In five years, when we look back at this, we need that story.’”
Quote #5: “I just gave them all A’s because they showed up… I said, ‘Write that. That’s your story.’”
Phillips and Bernard were not just asking their faculty to fill out forms or checkboxes. They were asking them to document the raw, unfiltered reality of teaching and learning during a global crisis. And in that documentation was the real power of assessment—not just as a tool for measuring success, but as a way of capturing the full scope of an educational journey, with all its highs and lows.
The talk ended with a reflection on the future of assessment. “What if,” Phillips mused, “instead of asking, ‘Did you complete your assessment report?’ we asked, ‘Did you share your story?’” It was a small change in language, but one that had the power to reshape how institutions engage with assessment altogether. By treating assessment as storytelling, institutions like Howard could ensure that their legacy wasn’t just a collection of data, but a living, breathing narrative of growth, challenge, and triumph.
As the session drew to a close, the audience was left with a sense of awe—not just for the content of the talk, but for the profound implications of what Bernard and Phillips had shared. Storytelling wasn’t just a tool for assessment. It was a revolution in how we understand education, learning, and the human experience. And as Bernard and Phillips had demonstrated, it was a revolution that was long overdue.
This was more than just a Friday SLO Talk. It was an invitation to rethink how we measure what really matters—and to start telling the stories that will shape the future of education.
Chat Summary
This chat session was filled with insightful reflections from educators across various institutions, focused on assessment, student learning outcomes (SLOs), and the power of storytelling in academic settings. Participants introduced themselves from colleges and universities across the U.S., fostering a sense of national collaboration.
The discussion highlighted key concerns about data collection and its impact on understanding student success. A recurring theme was the desire to balance storytelling with data. One participant, Laurel Paley, stated, “We get funding based on numbers, not stories. We are under pressure to demonstrate effectiveness.” This led to a broader reflection on how institutional leaders often prioritize quantitative data over qualitative insights, which some felt stifles true understanding of student experiences.
Another memorable moment was when Amanda Taintor emphasized using “effective practices” rather than “best practices,” a sentiment that resonated with many. This shift in terminology was seen as more fitting for individual institutional resources and cultures, avoiding one-size-fits-all solutions.
The value of storytelling in data was discussed, with Jacqueline Randa suggesting, “When you write a research report, you capture the story in the data.” Others expressed concern that numbers alone miss crucial context, particularly regarding students facing challenges like homelessness, as Laurel Paley pointed out, “They start a class and then disappear.”
Finally, a lighthearted yet profound comment from Ryan Smith encapsulated the faculty-student dynamic: “Faculty will do anything I ask them to, but nothing I tell them to do. (I mean that in a good way).” This reflected the need for faculty engagement through inspiration rather than directive.
The conversation ended on a positive note, with many participants thanking the presenters and expressing how helpful and insightful the discussion had been, particularly in terms of integrating storytelling into data and assessment processes.