Data Shouldn’t Just Be for Grant Reports
It’s a familiar scene.
Someone calls a meeting. They throw up a chart or two. Everyone nods solemnly.
Then the meeting ends, and nothing changes.
I’ve been in too many rooms where data was treated like a checklist item. A formality. Something you dust off when the grant report is due or the auditor shows up.
But here's the thing:
Data shouldn’t just sit in a spreadsheet. It should move us. It should challenge us, inform us, and—most importantly—it should change us.
Let’s be honest: most systems already collect more data than they know what to do with.
Attendance logs, TABE scores, disciplinary write-ups, reentry outcomes, demographics, program completions—you name it, it’s being tracked.
And yet...
We still act surprised when the numbers tell a hard truth.
That Black and brown learners are overdisciplined and under-credited.
That women’s programs are under-resourced and under-evaluated.
That people with learning differences are more likely to drop out or be excluded.
We know these things.
What we’re missing isn’t data.
What we’re missing is courage—and commitment—to act on it.
The Grant Report Isn’t the Finish Line
Don’t get me wrong—accountability matters.
We absolutely should be documenting outcomes and reporting results.
But if the only time we engage with our data is when we’re trying to justify funding or prove success, we’re doing it backwards.
Data isn’t just a reflection of what we did.
It should be a tool to make the next decision smarter.
Ask yourself:
What story is our data telling us that we’re not ready to hear?
Where are we seeing patterns—and ignoring them?
What would change if we used our data to build people up instead of box them in?
What It Could Look Like (If We Were Brave)
Instead of just reporting recidivism rates, track what’s working for those who don’t come back. What programs did they complete? What supports did they have? Let’s build on those.
Instead of just disaggregating data by race, start asking how policies and practices are driving those disparities. Data can name the gap—but only action can close it.
Instead of just looking at who finishes a class, look at who didn’t—and why. Were the materials accessible? Were the instructors trained in trauma-informed strategies? Were learners placed correctly?
Instead of tracking “outputs” (how many people enrolled), track “outcomes” (how many lives improved). That’s a harder story to tell—but it’s the one that matters.
Let’s Stop Using Data as a Mirror and Start Using It as a Map
Here’s what I’ve learned over the years:
Most people want to do better.
They just don’t always know where to start.
Data gives us a place to start.
Not with shame.
But with honesty.
With intention.
With strategy.
And if we’re serious about equity, impact, and second chances, we have to be serious about owning what the numbers say—and doing something with it.
Data isn’t just for funders.
It’s for the students who show up despite it all.
It’s for the educators trying to make change from the inside out.
It’s for the systems that are overdue for transformation.
Let’s not just collect the data.
Let’s honor it—by using it to do better.
Until next Sunday,
Amy ☕️
