Meeting my students on the page
A word after a word after a word is power.
~Margaret Atwood
It’s the last Friday of spring break and I’ve been sitting at my desk since 6 am, staring down a veritable mountain of student essays that I have been trying my best to ignore all week. I have put off grading them for as long as humanly possible but I know that if I don’t get to it today, this task will definitely put an emotional damper on my weekend or worse, supplant my elaborate plans to play endless hours of pickleball.
So I take a big slurp of strong coffee and open my computer—and as much as I think I hate this particular part of teaching, something interesting happens when I finally settle in:
I realize just how much reading and responding to my students’ essays actually feels like having a quiet conversation with them. In fact, often I can hear their voices and see their faces as I read their words and when this happens, I am reminded of not only of how much I love talking to my students, but also of how well I have gotten to know them this year.
And, all of a sudden, this terrible task doesn’t seem so terrible.
Take Meghan, for instance (not her real name) a senior, who is off to art school in the fall. She writes beautifully and with passion and eloquence, but still isn’t adept at introducing and integrating other people’s ideas into her work and often goes about it in a way that detracts from her solid thinking and writing.
In this particular essay, she’s writing about the film industry during WWII and not only is it a thoroughly interesting and insightful topic, but it was clearly inspired by her own interests and passions. The articles she uses to explore her topic, however, are often introduced in an awkward, clunky manner and rather than adding depth to her essay, they distract from it. As I think about what to write to her, I think about a couple of things: 1. what she needs to become a better writer for now and for when she gets to college; 2. her level of academic commitment and her interest in improving her writing; 3. her personality and how she responds to grades and feedback; and finally, 4. my relationship with her.
I also think about the fact that we are only a couple months from graduation and this might be one of my last opportunities to help her improve her writing. With these ideas in mind, this is what I write in the margins of her Google doc: “I love your topic and I think this article goes a long way in advancing your argument. The way you integrate it, though, feels a little awkward and distracts from your excellent thinking and writing. A more effective way might be: One movie industry expert explained: “Movies were not only seen as entertainment during WWII, but were also used to fuel support for the war,” (Smith) or: In an article about WWII, film historian Joe smith suggested “Movies were not only seen….”.
I make a couple of similar comments and suggestions throughout her essay and my summary comments draw attention to both her strengths as a writer and what I perceive to be her biggest challenges. I invite her to think about my comments and meet with me one-on-one to discuss further. At the end of the note, I thank her for her hard work and tell her (honestly) that I have seen noticeable growth in her writing throughout the year. Knowing her academic commitment and her interest in improving, I feel confident that Meghan will follow up with a writing conference.
In that same English class, there is another student, Michael (also not his real name) and his writing problems are much more substantial and his academic commitment much less evident. His essay is disorganized, his topic completely oversimplified and his central question, almost incoherent. I can tell that he was overwhelmed by this assignment and I struggle briefly with what to write to him to help move him forward. I decide to rely on our strong rapport and my new knowledge that he was recently accepted to his choice college. I write: “Michael, you have done solid work in my course throughout the year, and I know it can be hard to focus at the end of your senior year, but this essay really doesn’t seem to represent your best effort. I like your topic, but I think it might be helpful to narrow it in a way that helps it become less overwhelming and more manageable. I know you’ve already been accepted to college, but I think it’s really important for you to work on this skill before you go, as it will definitely be the kind of writing that will be required. (And, wouldn’t it be nice to fix this problem before you get there?!) Let’s talk before or after class tomorrow about a plan for a rewrite.”
My final example is about a reticent but talented student, Maya, who chose to write about a complex and somewhat controversial topic for this assignment. During the writing workshop time, she shyly met with me to talk about her intentions for the essay and asked if I thought it would be a good topic. I did, indeed, I assured her, but also warned that the topic itself was fraught and that her biggest challenge would be to write with nuance and critical understanding. As I read her essay now, I can’t help but think that it falls a little short of both her intentions and of my expectations. Nonetheless, I want to be supportive of her choice to address a difficult topic, while also giving her meaningful feedback. Thinking of her quiet personality and her sensitivity, I write the following note to her: Maya, how brave you are to attack such a challenging question! I think your willingness to put yourself out there speaks volumes about you. I also think there are some pretty simple strategies that could help make your essay a little more effective. Can we talk in person?
As I was doing this task—which so often feels like the very worst part of my job—I couldn’t help but notice how much my attitude shifted when I reframed the work. Just by thinking about the idea that I could use this space of the page to communicate both writing suggestions and encouragement to my students turned out to be a pretty inspiring idea. That’s when it occurred to me to write about it in this month’s blog, at the very time so many English teachers are plowing through their final piles of student essays.
My takeaways:
Instead of correcting essays, I use the essays to talk to my student-writers about what good writing looks like and what good writers do to become better writers.
Before I write a comment, I really try to think about the individual student. What are this student’s goals? What are their strengths and sensitivities? How can I use my knowledge and understanding of them as individuals to best help them to be more confident writers? And more committed to improving their writing?
Writing suggestions are good, but often modeling what good writing looks helps students to better understand how to make changes.
Frequently, I use my note to a student to invite them to a one-on-one writing conference. These conferences are when the most substantive improvements happen for most student-writers.
These strategies are highly effective when students trust me and believe that I care about them.
Further reading about writing instruction
Writing Relationships, Lad Tobin (1990)
“Teaching the Writer, not the Writing” (Teaching & Being, December 1, 2022)
