Last November, I sat in a cinema watching the hit movie musical Wicked, and for reasons I hadn’t anticipated, the opening number Dancing Through Life resonated in a way it never had before. It wasn’t simply the performance or even my own background in musical theatre that struck me. It was the familiarity of the sentiment. I realised I had heard versions of those ideas, about avoiding pressure, about sidestepping struggle, expressed many times before by my own students.
Over the past fifteen years, I have worked with more than 2,000 students outside mainstream schooling. Many had stepped away due to anxiety, unmet learning needs, or difficult experiences within the system. Others had left to pursue alternative pathways or found that the traditional structure did not suit them. Across this diverse group, one issue surfaced repeatedly: assessment, particularly high-stakes, time-constrained written examinations, was often experienced as a significant barrier to progression.
For these students, assessment was rarely perceived as an opportunity to demonstrate what they knew and could do. Instead, it was something to endure. The format, typically timed, written, and based on a limited number of performances, often intensified existing anxieties. In some cases, the anticipation of exam season alone was enough to trigger acute stress responses. Over time, this led not only to disengagement but to a gradual erosion of self-efficacy. Students began to doubt not just their performance in assessments, but their broader capacity to succeed.
There is, of course, an important counterpoint to acknowledge. Such forms of assessment offer advantages: they can support reliability, comparability, and scalability across large cohorts. They provide a structured way of evaluating certain constructs, most notably, knowledge recall, written communication, and the ability to perform under time constraints. For some learners, myself included, this alignment between assessment design and cognitive strengths can make these experiences both accessible and even enjoyable.
I thrived within this system. From GCSEs through to A-levels, and later at university, I was well suited to the demands of timed written examinations. My ability to memorise and recall information efficiently, combined with confidence under pressure, meant that I could demonstrate my understanding effectively within these constraints. At the time, I experienced assessment as fair and meritocratic. It was only later, through working with students whose experiences differed so markedly from my own, that I began to question that assumption. What I had taken to be neutral was, in fact, a system that privileged particular profiles of learners.
This realisation deepened when I encountered a very different assessment culture while training in musical theatre. At drama school, the dominant modes of assessment shifted from written responses to performance-based tasks: improvisation, devised group work, and live interpretation. These required emotional expression, physical embodiment, collaboration, and a willingness to take creative risks, constructs that had not been central to my earlier educational success.
What I found most challenging was not simply the unfamiliarity of these tasks, but the way in which my existing strengths appeared to diminish in value. My ability to analyse text in depth, something that had previously been rewarded, seemed largely invisible unless it could be translated into performance. In effect, I was being assessed on a different set of constructs, and my prior success did not readily transfer. The experience was, at times, disorientating and demotivating.
In retrospect, this offered an important insight. Assessment is not a neutral act of measurement; it shapes which aspects of learning are made visible and, therefore, which are recognised and rewarded. When the range of assessment methods is narrow, so too is the range of student strengths that can be meaningfully demonstrated.
What proved transformative in that context was not the removal of challenge, but the introduction of greater diversity in assessment. Over time, I encountered a broader range of tasks, some of which aligned more closely with my strengths, such as reflective writing and analytical evaluation. These moments of alignment helped to rebuild my confidence and made me more willing to engage with less familiar, more demanding forms of assessment. The balance did not reduce the rigour of the course; rather, it expanded access to it.
This principle is reflected more widely in the arts, where assessment is rarely confined to a single format or moment. Instead, it is often distributed across time and incorporates multiple modes of engagement, including performance, portfolio work, and structured reflection. Such approaches allow for the evaluation of a broader range of constructs, including creative process, collaboration, and iterative development, alongside more traditional forms of knowledge and understanding. They also create space for feedback and growth, positioning learning as something developmental rather than fixed.
Importantly, these approaches do not necessitate a lowering of standards. Rather, they require a more nuanced understanding of what it means to demonstrate competence. No single assessment can fully capture the complexity of what a student knows and can do. An over-reliance on any one method risks narrowing both the measurement of learning and the learning itself.
If we are serious about supporting student wellbeing, then assessment design must be part of that conversation. Assessment does not simply evaluate learning at the end of a process; it shapes motivation, influences engagement, and contributes to how students see themselves as learners. Expanding the range of ways in which students can demonstrate their understanding may not solve all challenges, but it has the potential to create more inclusive and humane educational experiences.
Reflecting again on that moment in the cinema, I find myself returning to the idea of the “unexamined life.” Not as something to be dismissed, but as something worth reconsidering within education. Perhaps there is value in creating spaces where not every aspect of learning is subject to high-stakes evaluation, where process is valued alongside product, and where students are not constantly required to perform under pressure. In doing so, we may arrive at a more balanced understanding of achievement, one that recognises both what students know and the diverse ways in which they are able to show it.
