I have finally received my copy of Profession, the yearly journal of MLA that engages directly with the state of the profession (hence the name)
There were two articles that caught my eye. The first was about rejection, or more specifically, about saying "no" to a student, or telling a student he/she is wrong.* The writer argues that there are expectations from both sides about the nature of such interactions: when they should happen, what is appropriate, and how the message is interpreted differently by student and teacher.
Having heard the words "no" from advisors recently, I could relate as a student. But I also have had to say "no" several times to students this term, and I started wondering about that last point - how the message looks different depending on if you're on the giving or receiving end - and how the difference in perception can really get in the way of learning.
As a student, when an instructor or advisor says "no" it's very easy for me to take that as a rejection of more than just whatever the instructor is saying "no" to. When my committee said "no" to recommendation letters, I felt like it was a rejection of everything - me, the dissertation, the timing, my intellect, everything. That's why it felt so overwhelming. It shook my confidence.
Last night while out with colleagues, my husband was talking about a professor at university that we both had worked with and told of how in the seminar he participated in, the professor reduced a few grad students to tears in his critiques of their writing.
Thinking of all these things made me wonder about providing criticism to students. Do the instructors who reduce students to tears provide better feedback? Do students not understand when gentler criticism is provided? Is it necessary to be cruel to get the point across?
My instinct is no. I think it is possible to correct student errors without reducing students to tears. But it requires effort and attention. It requires time to explain why a student is wrong. Simply saying "No, you're wrong" does nothing to correct the error and invites the kind of devastation that leads to tears. I've seen this happen, and inevitably, the tears come when the news is delivered with little or no explanation or clarification about exactly what it wrong. (I also accept that there are students who will be devastated by even the most constructive of criticism - for those students, the only thing you can do is recognize that your criticism is helping them also learn how to accept criticism)
The article was written by an instructor who recognized herself and a colleague in a piece of fiction written by a former student. The fiction writer wrote from the first person perspective of the student who was told "no" in response to a classroom presentation. The feedback from the instructor was brief, and the student did not see it coming - the instructor and student had obviously never conferenced about the idea that the student presented. The story demonstrates how the devastation of that "no" came from a lack of effort and attention on the part of the instructor.
The effort comes from providing the "constructive" part of constructive criticism. It's easy to say "no". It's harder to spend the time and figure out how to articulate how the "no" can turn into a "yes". I remember receiving advice about grading that I should only point out the errors and leave it to the students to figure out what was wrong. But to me that's always felt a little like hanging students out to dry.
Of course I can't edit all their errors, but I think it's important to suggest how they might correct the errors. It takes time. Oh, does it take time. But without providing them with the correction, how will they know what to do with the "no"? Now in the interests of time management, I don't provide a solution for every problem. But I do try to for the bigger ones. Without providing a solution to the problem, I'm just saying "no". I'm just rejecting what the student has done without demonstrating why it's necessary to reject it and how such rejection can be avoided in the future.
Closely associated with the effort of providing solutions is recognizing that correcting student errors also requires attention. Again, the times that I've seen the devastation of the "no" happen (and experienced it myself) have been when the student doesn't see it coming. When as a student you've done work that you think is good, followed the directions as best you can, and then you're told that it's all wrong. That's tough. When as a student you already know you're on shaky ground because the instructor has told you so - as the project is in process - when you get the "this is wrong" message, it comes as no shock.
It's this attention that I think becomes so important to keep in mind as an instructor in student interactions. It's very tempting based on initial writing that a student produces, to gloss over any problems that emerge because you might think the student is a strong writer. Then suddenly you're faced with a final product that fails miserably, and you know that the criticism is going to hurt because you haven't given the student any indication before this that their work is less than stellar. It's one of the reasons I feel it's absolutely necessary to point out every problem in initial assignments so that students get a feel for the amount of work they need to do. They're nervous about that first assignment, and if they get it back with little correction, they'll think they're doing just great, whereas if you show them everything that needs work, they might not correct everything, but it does give them a sense of how the rest of their work will be evaluated.
You do no service to students to let them work for weeks and weeks on a course without giving them an accurate picture of where they stand. I think this applies in the classroom as much as in the work they submit and that it's important to correct errors that emerge during discussions or in-class work just as much as it is in the graded components. It shows respect for the student to give feedback often - whether it is negative or positive because there's nothing more devastating than the comments that comes straight out of left-field. I think that constant feedback also allows you to say things that are worded in strong language to correct errors without killing student initiative and enthusiasm.
I've had instructors myself who were tough. But I knew that from the moment we started, and it became part of the contract of the course - they'd be tough, and I wouldn't take it personally.
I've also had instructors who seemed to accept everything going on in the class as legitimate and acceptable, who then slam your final work, which is disheartening and confusing.
I want to be one of the former. I know I struggle with it as an instructor. It's easy, especially for us as women to see any negative feedback as undesirable, but we need to keep it in perspective. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, and being inconsistent in the level of feedback you provide is more damaging than the harshest criticism. Consistency, and a solution to the problem - the two components that make negative feedback easier to accept.
So I think it's possible to say "no, you're wrong" in a way that doesn't devastate a student if you make sure it doesn't come as a surprise and you provide a solution or explanation of why it must be "no".
*The second will need to be a separate blog post.
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