My freshmen year of high school was one of the toughest years of my teenage life. It was obviously a transitional year from junior high to high school, but it was also a very disruptive time in my home life. Because I was such a hot mess, the young writer part of me chose to document my struggles through writing. I wrote chapters about my romantic relationships and bad choices because I just knew one day they would become a great novel; I have since re-read them and there's some good plot lines, but that's about it. Hey - I'll take it.
The outpouring of my struggles provided me with a healthy place to work through my emotions and articulate my perspective. Writing is cathartic. And for my 15 year old self, I was continuously heard and encouraged through my English I teacher, Mrs. Kathryn Jordan. However, I was not in a workshop classroom. No. But, thankfully I was bold enough to ask Mrs. Jordan to read and edit my work outside of class time. And she always said yes.
To be clear, I was no angel student. Freshmen year I crawled underneath the attendance window to sneak to my friends' classes during class, I barely passed Spanish II (not entirely sure how those numbers added up), and I spent the majority of my time in Art working on my chapters instead of completing art projects. In total honesty, I cheated on my Biology end-of-year exam because a friend stole the key and I needed to pass the final to pass the class. Like I said, my freshmen year was full of poor choices both in and out of school.
One choice that forever impacted me was Mrs. Jordan's ongoing choice to read my writing and respond with authentic feedback. I would drop off a couple pages and within a day she would have read them and on a sticky note written commentary and questions in response. I cannot ever remember a time that she turned me down. And as a teacher now, I am even more thankful to her because I know firsthand all the demands she had on her teacher plate, but she consistently made extra space for me.
The stereotypical role of an English teacher is one that spends hours taking a red pen to stacks of papers marking up grammar, identifying a thesis statement, and noting clear analysis or well-chosen evidence or maybe not even marking a paper, but instead circling phrases that express measurements of those topics on a rubric. Can we really be surprised when students don't grow from that type of feedback? Is it really some big mystery why students throw away their papers with that type of feedback? Let me get to the real question: who does that type of feedback serve...the student or the teacher?
Look, I am not saying feedback is easy or that there is zero value in a rubric. But let's not advocate for these tools while in the same breath blaming students for their lack of development as writers. Every student is different, an individual; therefore, they need individual feedback that addresses their writing style. There are plenty of well-rehearsed excuses for why this cannot be done, but I won't waste our time with those because they are lies we tell ourselves. Instead, I will encourage you with the following statement: Individualized authentic feedback will change lives.
Creating space for individualized feedback starts with a mental shift. We must first recognize the tool as one for conversation and extension instead of for calling out mistakes or labeling elements. This different perspective can be practiced by format changes, balanced responses, and quantity of writing. Here's how I have created more space in my classroom with intention behind opening conversations regarding writer's voice.
Format Changes
The very first feedback I gave this year was in response to a letter my students wrote modeled after Jason Reynolds' "Ten Things I've Been Meaning to Say to You". They submitted it online. As I assessed the development of their writer's voice in the comment section, I began my feedback with their name. And not just the name on the attendance roster - no - I committed to learning their nicknames or if they go by a middle name so that I could address them through the label they use to identify themselves. It matters. Why? Because your interaction with them through their name says I recognize you as a human who is practicing their writer's voice; whereas, identifying the writer's move or grammatical mistakes says I see your words, but not your ideas.
Balance Responses
I do not write anything that is a waste of my their time. None of this "awesome!" or "good job" because that is unspecified fluff and students have no idea what they wrote that prompted the praise. My feedback is always a specific positive about development, main idea, a risk in syntax, use of figurative language, unique point of view, etc. Once I acknowledge and praise, I shift to providing a challenge. The purpose of the challenge is to push their writing to the next level. I might suggest weaving in different sentence structures, attempting to add sensory detail, or blending ideas with advanced relational transition words. If their is an issue that is blatant or specific to the purpose of the assignment that they clearly struggled with - I will write a note to see me and we will work through that struggle together. I do not take any credit for this structure - praise, challenge, address - but I strongly advocate for it. My students become accustomed to the flow of my feedback and they value the balance or it.
Quantity of Writing
Volume writing is the solution. Today's student requires practice without the threat of a grade or even the threat of it being read by the teacher. My students write in old school composition notebooks daily. Sometimes we read to our table, we class share, other times we share our best line or phrase, we might revise, or we save it to circle back to later. I do not give feedback on every journal entry. When I want to assess student writing, I ask students to write on notecards. The smaller sized paper is less intimidating for students as they learn new formats and are challenged to practice challenging sentence structures. They are more willing to write without overthinking or feeling like they are obligated to fill the entire page of a normal sheet and I am often asked, "Miss can I write on the back?" I always say, "Of course!" They beam in pride when they fill one side of the notecard and end up writing another sentence on the back. It is authentic excitement about structuring their ideas with words. And it's beautiful.
Authentic feedback by my freshmen high school teacher shaped who I am today. Her words of encouragement and criticism is why I feel called to help young people seek out their own voice then work to develop it. The privilege is ours now to pay it forward to the youth. Feedback is the opportunity to metaphorically sit next to our students through their words and encourage them in their stumbles to discovering their voice.
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