This post is shared in loving memory of Brian Wilson (1942–2025), a visionary whose music redefined possibility, harmony, and heart. May his legacy continue to inspire creativity, courage, and compassion in classrooms everywhere.
The year? 1959.
The place? Hawthorne High School in Hawthorne, California.
The setting? A humble music classroom, where a little-known high school student named Brian Wilson has just turned in an original composition to his music teacher, Mr. Fred Morgan.
The song? “Surfin’” — a simple little tune with a catchy hook and a laid-back beach vibe, designed to capitalize on the popularity of the ultimate summer sport (ironically at the time, young Brian had never actually been surfin’ in his entire life).
Completely unimpressed, the teacher gave the song an F.
A few months later, “Surfin’” became the debut single for a little-known local band that Brian had formed with his brothers and some friends called The Beach Boys. The rest, of course, is history. And over the next five decades, Brian Wilson would go on to become one of the most innovative and influential musicians of the 20th century.
Flash forward nearly 60 years after that failing grade to 2018, and a 75 year-old Brian Wilson returned to visit his old stomping grounds of Hawthorne High School, where the new principal ceremonially had his grade changed to an A.
But is that really the right call?
Let’s be honest — “Surfin’” might be a catchy little summer ditty… but it isn’t exactly Sloop John B. Heck, it’s not even “Kokomo.”
Even the most devoted Beach Boys fans will admit that Wilson’s early songwriting doesn’t hold a candle to his later masterpieces. And even for a seventeen-year-old writing for a simpler time, the rhymes are… well, let’s just say they weren’t exactly groundbreaking. Take a listen:
I got up this mornin’, turned on my radio (Ooh, surfin’)
I was checkin’ out the surfin’ scene to see if I would go (Ooh, surfin’)
And when the DJ tells me that the surfin’ is fine (Ooh, surfin’)
That’s when I know my baby and I will have a good time
At best, “Surfin’” is fun. But compared to the harmonic complexity and emotional resonance of Pet Sounds? It feels like a rough draft — full of spirit, but still searching for its voice.
So here’s the question:
Are we retroactively giving “Surfin’” an A because we really think the song is all that great?
Or are we bumping the grade for good press — simply because the student who wrote it became famous?
And maybe more importantly:
Would we have changed the grade if he hadn’t?
Brian’s high school music teacher Fred Morgan: “Brian wrote a composition for me and it turned out to be ‘Surfin.’ That composition got an F, but it made a million dollars.” Brian’s failing grade has now been changed to an A on this assignment by Dr. Landesfeind! pic.twitter.com/ICANT605Kx
— Brian Wilson (@BrianWilsonLive) January 15, 2018
When you find yourself surfin’ the seas of education, there’s a good chance you’ve heard the phrase “Standards-Based Grading” — a system designed to measure student performance against what should, in theory, be a clearly defined set of learning objectives common across all learners and assignments.
But here at EMC² Learning, we believe deeply in Variable-Based Grading — a system where individual students are measured against their own growth, not against some static benchmark or abstract notion of what “good work” looks like.
Because while fixed standards may offer a sense of security, it’s often a false one. And upon closer inspection (or a convenient 60 full years of hindsight), even the most polished grading systems often end up being every bit as arbitrary as a single teacher’s gut feeling about what qualifies as an “A” composition in the annals of rock and roll.
Because learning isn’t linear.
Because not every surfer will catch a wave (and be sittin’ on top of the world) on day one.
Because potential doesn’t always look polished.
We believe in a system of you vs. you — where the goal is continual improvement, not comparison.
We believe that iron sharpens iron, and that real learning happens when students revise, reflect, and rise.
In the years after his days at Hawthorne High School had long since come to an end, the world learned that Brian Wilson openly struggled with mental health issues, substance abuse, and years of trauma from being raised in a home with an abusive father. He didn’t thrive in traditional classroom settings. He was different.
So let’s ask ourselves:
If a student like Brian — struggling with those same issues — turned in “Surfin’” today, would we still give him an F? But by the same token, if we somehow knew that this student was a budding musical prodigy, would we immediately fast-track his grade with a rubber-stamped “A” to the top of the class?
(Imagine the consequences if a young Brian Wilson had believed that tracks like “Surfin’” were good enough — that there was no need to evolve, experiment, or aim higher. That’d be like Taylor Swift calling it a career after “Teardrops on My Guitar.”)
Would we leave space for experimentation? Would we offer feedback that challenges growth? Would we recognize the early sparks of creativity in work that isn’t quite there — yet? And what even was that rubric?! Did the assignment call for originality? Structure? Performance? Melody? Did the teacher have the musical literacy to recognize harmonic innovation, or did the lyrics just feel too shallow?
(By way of direct contrast, this same aspiring composer went on to mastermind the legendary Pet Sounds album barely five years after graduating from high school. And every song on that record is light years ahead of “Surfin'” by any metric.)
When we use fixed standards to measure human beings, we risk missing the very magic we’re meant to nurture.
A one-size-fits-all grading system turns art into arithmetic. It assumes mastery happens on a schedule. It penalizes passion if it’s messy. And sometimes, it hands out Fs to future legends.
Sure — maybe “Surfin’” didn’t deserve an A in 1957. But maybe it didn’t deserve an F either.
Maybe what it really needed was time, feedback, and someone to say: “You’re onto something. Keep going.”
That’s the power of Variable-Based Grading. We grade growth, not genius. We celebrate the process, not just the product. We challenge students to become better than they were — not to chase the arbitrary standards of a single instructor or compete in an endless race against their peers.
Because God Only Knows what our students might become when given the freedom to fail forward.
And if we do our jobs responsibly, we won’t have to wait 60 years to get the grade right.
What would your classroom look like if you stopped grading students by where they are — and started celebrating how far they’ve come?
The grading philosophy spotlighted in this blog post is the cornerstone of how we approach student-centered engagement and the 1,000+ resources available in the EMC² Learning library. This entire library is available to all members with an active Engagement Engineer or Engagement Engineer PLUS account, and is included with your annual site membership. We hope you’ll consider joining us as an Engagement Engineer to unlock a full year of site access. For complete details including our exclusive limited time offer for annual site membership, click here.
