How > Don’t: Sometimes Our Help Hinders Their Learning
Don’t you love when your technology brings up a memory you haven’t thought of in a while?
This photo popped up on my phone and it made me smile to think about when Cameron was in my class - a rad student who totally got the point of school, got that what he was learning was foundational to his own plans, got that his teachers were there to help, got that it didn’t need to be overly stressful, got the work done, got the A, and got every joke (I especially appreciated the last one).
It then made me think of last Monday. I jumped on a Zoom with a former student to help them break down their professor’s unnecessarily complicated prompt. Pages long. Links to other pages that matched.
The word choice, the structure, the different formats (bold, underline, plain, italic, bullet points and hyperlinks…) knocked the student off their game.
And it really was not a difficult prompt when you finally understood the point of the assignment.
We spent nearly two hours deciphering it, creating a thesis, and getting it organized in the precise formats (bold, underline, plain, italic, bullet points and hyperlinks…) that will be included in the grade.
“Is it asking me this: [insert interesting thought from student about the topic]?”
“Yes.”
“Then why make it so complicated.”
It wasn’t exactly rhetorical.
They waited for my response.
I didn’t want to share my views on that one at that moment. I just commiserated, reassured them the topic was fascinating and appropriate to the task, and encouraged them to shake it off and get going.
It is a good question for us to play with though.
Why do we make writing so unnecessarily complicated?
Is it because we are so used to writing now that breaking it down for our learners is actually pretty tough?
Is it because we are concerned that we can’t effectively and efficiently provide guidance on 200 different essays at a time?
Is it because we’ve read the same Lord of the Flies symbolism essay thousands of times now and can’t see how we could possibly support our students in writing those 200 unique essays?
Is it because we’ve gotten so many submissions over the years that don’t reflect the skills we think our students should already know?
I get it, teacher friends. I really get it.
I did the math once to find out how many hours I spent each year grading essays. 150-200 hours every school year. Keep reading to hear the good news.
Good News & another Good Question:
It doesn’t have to be this way.
So how do we want it to be?
Some of my favorite sessions are my writing ones. I love sharing all of the activities and methods and findings - and having the necessary discussions with teachers - that make this whole writing mess better for students AND teachers (without the unnecessary work).
Students’ writing – and writing confidence – improved.
I never took a stack of essays home again.
For clarity and emphasis:
Students’ writing – and writing confidence – improved.
I never took a stack of essays home again. It’s true. (Really.)
It’s not only possible; it’s immediately actionable.
It’s good for our students, their future, and their feelings about school.
It’s good for our teachers, their work-life balance, and our teacher retention.
I’m a huge fan of work-life balance tips and well-being hacks, but I also believe when those tips and hacks are directed at teachers, we’re trying to deal with the symptoms when we really need to deal with the root of the problems themselves.
How would it — seeing students’ writing and confidence improve while you bask in the knowing that you’ll never have to take writing home for feedback and grading ever again — affect your work-life balance and well-being?
Bad News & One of Several Recommended Solutions
We are perpetuating the systems "we" originally created and which cause us - and our students - to need those tips and hacks.
We can provide the alternatives that establish new systems to benefit teachers and our students.
Can it all fit into one blog post? I wish. But I’m doing my best to share ideas that can get us there, bit by bit. TQE lays the foundation. Analyzing art is a great step. Then, then, then… but we can take a step and see some progress.
One of those many solutions is to offer real clarity and freedom.
Sometimes, as this professor did, in our hope of making things easier for students, we add so many structures and requirements and expectations and details and scaffolds that we ultimately throw them off.
What if after teaching this topic or that text set, we didn’t provide specific prompts so students could write about what intrigued them?
What if instead of telling students "Don’t start a sentence with because" or "you, my friend, have used the word that more than 70 times in two and a half pages" or "don’t use to be verbs," we helped them see how powerful is can be in a sentence.
Emerson thought it was. I love "Envy is ignorance" every time I read it.
Because is a great way to begin a sentence of analysis. And typically our quick discussion about the difference between talking and writing helped them understand that we often speak in fragments.
It seems they’re using the word that in 6 different instances, so I made them this very plain resource and we practiced together. (It’s free. Enjoy.)
It’s about teaching students how to brainstorm in whatever way works for them.
It’s about allowing students the information and time to practice identifying and fixing only one or two of their most pressing writing deficits at a time.
It’s about explaining how instead of saying "don’t" or "use this" and providing time and guidance as they practice.
It’s about not getting in our own way — and not accidentally and with best intentions… in their way.
It’s working for teachers and students from all over and I’d love to come fully explain and have you experience it all so you can see how well it can work for you. If you’re looking for ways to try those writing activities and tweak my resources, offer your students (and yourself) freedom from those systems, and avoid taking stacks home, please check out the other writing blog posts here and then, really, get in touch.
