Every writing teacher knows the frustration of painstakingly responding to a stack of essays only to see the advice ignored or the same errors repeated. Large class sizes may dissuade us from asking our students to write very often. If we do ask students to write with any frequency, we may feel that we just don't have the time to provide much feedback. However, fewer opportunities to write and receive feedback mean fewer opportunities for students to develop as writers; as Grant Wiggins (2012) asserts, "'no time to give and use feedback' actually means 'no time to cause learning.'" In my experience working with developing writers, I find time for feedback by giving less (but more focused) feedback earlier in the writing process. Here's how.
Step 1: Identify Learning Targets
I organize my feedback on writing into two broad categories: composing and editing. By choosing one or two learning targets at a time in each area, I intentionally limit the volume of feedback I provide. As Susan M. Brookhart (2007) writes:
A natural inclination is to want to 'fix' everything you see. That's the teacher's-eye view, where the target is perfect achievement of all learning goals. Try to see things from the student's-eye view. On which aspects of the learning target has the student done good work? Which aspects of the learning goals need improvement and should be addressed next?
Addressing too many aspects of writing at once can frustrate even accomplished student writers; weaker writers may just shut down. Choosing just one or two targets from a rubric or scoring criteria is a helpful alternative.
As an example, early in the year, I might ask students to work on the composing domain of development. I restrict my comments to use of details even though there might be other areas for improvement. On later tasks, students can demonstrate their learning on this target and add another, such as building cohesion.
Similarly, teachers can save a lot of time (and—let's face it—wasted effort) by editing less. Rather than marking every error in a paper, I identify one or two target skills; I also try to highlight a place where the student approaches mastery of the particular skill. In the opening section of the student's text, I correct the error once or twice. Next, I bracket a later group of sentences that contains the same error and comment, "Find the similar error here." Finally, I ask the student to independently identify and correct the same type of error in the rest of the paper. This process saves time for me and prevents students from simply transcribing my corrections.
Step 2: Build in Quick Conferences
Providing time to write in class allows teachers to see student writing in process and give feedback when students can actually use it. As Troy Hicks (2014) reminds teachers, "[F]eedback needs to be personal, and it needs to be fast." In-class writing days are my busiest days: I circulate during class, conferring briefly with individual students. These conferences do not need to be extensive—a quick read of a draft or even part of one is enough to see what the writer is doing well and what she needs to do to get better. If our learning target is elaboration, I might say, "Great details in your paragraph about x; how could you provide more details about y?" If the target is cohesion, I might say, "I see that the first part of your essay is tightly focused on these two ideas. Can you pull them together in your conclusion?" This approach also works in a digital or written format, as long as comments are limited. Providing at least some of the feedback face-to-face, however, lessens the likelihood that students will misunderstand or ignore it.
Step 3: Keep a Record of Feedback
Feedback helps students, but it also provides teachers with a valuable record of a student's learning. Methods vary: I have experimented with index cards and notebooks; currently, I find that a clipboard with address labels (Newingham, 2009) is the most manageable and least intrusive way to record notes on feedback. During conferences or while reading essays, I make a quick note on a label with the student's name; later, I place it on the student's page in a binder. Record keeping offers an efficient way to observe students' growth. The feedback is not lost when work is returned to students, and teachers have information at their fingertips to guide future conferences and assessment.
Step 4: Encourage Student Reflection
Feedback is effective when students have a chance to use it; they also gain independence as writers when they make the language of feedback their own. At various times—at the end of an assignment, a unit, a grading period—I ask students to write about their learning. This "writer's memo" (Sommers, 1989) gives students practice using academic vocabulary, thinking analytically about their work, and reflecting on their performance. Useful questions include
- What are the strengths of this writing?
- What challenges did you face?
- What can you do now as a writer that you couldn't do before?
These reflections aid students in assessing their own progress over the course of a semester or year's instruction.
Time and Support for Student Writers
Teachers may worry that a narrowly focused approach to feedback will lower standards. If I provide feedback only on development, what if the writing is unorganized? However, the end goal of instruction remains student proficiency in all areas of composing; we are just giving students more time and guidance to reach standards. If we remember that our students have an entire course in which to develop as writers, we can relax a bit about how much they must master on each assignment. Writers can attend to the skills we are teaching rather than being accountable for a year's worth of development all at once.
Specific, personal feedback that is closely tied to learning targets frees students and teachers to pay closer attention to the work of writing. When feedback becomes a regular part of instruction, rather than what happens when the writing is over, teachers can, in fact, "cause learning"—that is, teach.