Truth be told

“Trust starts with truth and ends with truth.” –Santosh Kalwar

One October evening when I was a graduate student in English at Wayne State University, I sent my dad an email. I had attached what I thought was the final draft of my thesis. I trusted—and still do—my dad and valued his opinion beyond measure; after all, he’s been in the business for 40 years, over half of them as a professor of English.  So, when he sent the document back, and I saw how many comments and questions there were typed into the margins, I would be lying if I said it hadn’t stung. But, the thesis I ultimately submitted was stronger for it, as was I as a learner.

We had family therapy in AP Literature yesterday. Why? They got back their first assessment, their base-line writing assignment, and suddenly the trust I had asked them to put in me was tested.

When I introduced Empowered Learning in the first week of school, I promised the students I would always be truthful. But wow, that truth is sometimes hard to face.  Their egos were bruised--no question--but more than that, they were panicked. Many of them saw scores they’d never seen before. In the world of grade averaging, those scores would have meant there was no hope for an A, maybe even a B. The notion of using one set of rubrics that remain the same all year is new to most of them. They’ve heard me say that their grade will be based on their highest consistent score and that they will have ample opportunity to learn and improve and show me what they can do; but there was definitely a sense of distrust ... that I might turn my back, leave them to fend for themselves, or, heaven forbid, decide to average their scores after all. And there was fear about what their parents would say.

So, I did the only two things I could think of: I ran interference with a few parents to ease some of the panic, and I got on with class. We spent some time looking at strong sample papers and then students wrote and wrote and wrote, alone, in small groups, sharing constructive criticism, fueled by their desire to improve their skills in Criterion A. And I think they’re starting to get it. Every moment in class is a moment to practice, free of penalty. Every homework task is a risk-free opportunity to try their hand at writing differently, sometimes better, sometimes not. Every assessment they take is a chance to get feedback, reassess their strategy, and forge ahead.

It was hard to see my students in emotional distress. That’s not why any of us got into teaching. But at the end of the day, whether they like me or not, like Empowered Learning or not, I want to know that I told them the truth—at the beginning and at the end—and gave them endless chances to be brave in their learning. For me, Empowered Learning is how I can keep that promise.