A friend recently sent me a Wall Street Journal article titled “How Did We End Up With Performance Reviews, Anyway?”

As I read through it, I found myself smiling a bit—not because it was surprising, but because it felt so familiar.

The article traces the origins of modern performance reviews back more than a century. Early versions emerged in the U.S. military during World War I as a way to rate officers and determine promotion potential. Large corporations later adopted similar systems as factories scaled and managers needed ways to rank employees and measure productivity.

Over time, those models evolved into the formal performance reviews many organizations still use today—annual meetings, rating scales, documentation, and a structured conversation meant to summarize a year of work.

Teacher evaluation systems followed a somewhat similar path.

Historically, teacher evaluations were relatively simple. Principals would visit classrooms, observe instruction, and provide narrative feedback. The goal was developmental—to support teachers in strengthening their craft.

Over time, particularly during the accountability movement of the past few decades, evaluation systems became more formalized. Rubrics, rating scales, and numerical scores became more common.

The intention was understandable. Standards matter. Accountability matters. Clear expectations matter. But in many places the process can drift toward compliance. Observations get scheduled. Forms get completed. Boxes get checked. And sometimes the focus shifts from improving teaching to completing the evaluation.

What’s interesting is that the research on improvement points in a different direction.

People grow when feedback is continuous. When leaders create environments where reflection feels safe. When conversations about improvement happen regularly rather than during a formal annual review.

In other words, improvement starts with connection.

When trust exists between a leader and a teacher, feedback becomes easier. Conversations become more honest. Growth becomes part of the culture rather than something reserved for an evaluation meeting.

From there, coaching becomes possible.

Not compliance-driven conversations about a checklist, but thoughtful discussions about what’s working, what could be better, and how to support improvement.

And when coaching is done well, it naturally aligns individual growth with the broader priorities of the school or district.

Connection.

Coaching over compliance.

Alignment with what matters most.

Those patterns show up again and again when you study how great teams improve.

Over time, I’ve come to believe something simple about leadership.

If people don’t feel seen, valued, and supported by the person leading them, no evaluation system in the world will fix that.

But when leaders invest in relationships—when they show up consistently, listen carefully, and engage in thoughtful conversations—something different happens.

Feedback becomes normal. Growth becomes continuous. And improvement becomes something people pursue together.

The standards and rubrics still matter. They provide clarity and shared expectations.

But they should support the relationship—not replace it.

Because in the end, the relationship comes before the rubric.