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Des Moines Municipal Schools in New Mexico beats the outcomes its context would predict. Superintendent Kodi Sumpter explains why: a teacher evaluation is a relationship, not a form. Someone has to come back and remember what the teacher was trying to become.
CTO of Swiftscore. Writes about what we're learning from districts on the ground.
Superintendent of Des Moines Municipal Schools, a small rural district in New Mexico.
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A teacher evaluation document can record a classroom visit. It can hold the date, rubric, rating, and evidence. It does not remember a teacher.
It does not know what she struggled with last fall, what she tried in October, what changed by February, or whether anyone came back to check.
That was the lesson I heard from Superintendent Kodi Sumpter at Des Moines Municipal Schools in New Mexico.
Des Moines is tiny: roughly 145 students in pre-k through 12th grade. Sumpter grew up there and came back home. She has now been an administrator in the district for 12 years.
Twelve years gives her a kind of memory a document does not have. When Sumpter walks into a classroom, she is not meeting a rating category. She is meeting a teacher whose last observation, last worry, and last attempted fix she may already know.
The Above the Line data is what first brought me to Des Moines. The district's outcomes are stronger than its context would predict.
When I asked Sumpter what explained them, she pointed to a sign in her office.
Our kids are worth whatever it takes.
The line seems to run the school.
In Des Moines, the sign does not stop at extra effort. It asks adults to return after the form, after the conference, after the required part of the job.
That is clearest in teacher coaching.
The paperwork is still there. The state requires it. Forms get filled out.
But Sumpter did not describe evaluation as paperwork to complete. She described the live part.
She sees something in a classroom. She and the teacher talk about it. They name the piece that needs work. The teacher tries something. Sumpter comes back.

The loop only works if the feedback is honest. It also only works if the teacher can keep standing after hearing it.
Sumpter put it simply: good feedback should leave people "whole, but with action plans."
Whole does not mean vague praise. Action plans do not mean cruelty dressed up as candor. The point is to tell the truth in a way that gives the teacher somewhere to go next.
That truth can arrive in small forms.
Sometimes it is a sticky note, a text message after a walkthrough, or a quick affirmation. Sometimes it is a question in a post-conference that helps the teacher name the weakness herself.
The format is not the point. The memory is.
Two weeks later, Sumpter can walk back into the same classroom knowing what the teacher was trying to improve. A month later, the next conversation can start from the last one. The teacher is not beginning again every time someone opens a new document.
Paperwork can store the visit. It cannot carry the conversation forward.
The forms have to exist. The state requires them. But Sumpter is trying to hear the signal inside the evaluation noise.
What was this teacher working on?
What changed since the last visit?
What does the next conversation need to ask?
That is the part the form struggles to remember. Not because the form is useless. Because the form was never the relationship.
Larger districts cannot copy Des Moines' size. They can copy the discipline.
Someone has to come back.
Someone has to remember what the teacher was trying to become.
Evaluation should not end when the form is filed.
Paperwork can document a classroom visit.
A good coach remembers the teacher.