#7 : Feedback is the Breakfast of Champions

[This blog post is inspired by a rush of thoughts which floated through my mind over the last 3 days. Last week I conducted an "orientation program" at a well-known school in the city. I was referred to as the "speaker" in the tradition of their having a speaker at their term orientations. Despite my protest, facing a group of 100 teachers from pre-Primary to Higher Secondary level, I was branded the Speaker.  However, this was a small glitch in an otherwise fabulous morning.  Read on ... ]

The topic I was to present, though limited by time and space, encompassed teaching skills, motivation, instant lesson planning and, because the teachers felt they needed something for their personal lives too, we added Time Management Tools.  The precise content was not as important as the methods I have been used to employing.  So, on with the show.

I firmly believe that one has to live the part, so rather than deliver a talk, I found myself involving the teachers in interactive discussion -- always a difficult task with more than 30 people, but I consoled myself with the thought that these teachers face a class of 40-50 kids on a daily basis, and survive. I was happy enough with the enthusiastic involvement, chorus answers, volunteers, sharing of stories and other things that make a class interactive.

Behavioural Feedback

The administration had earlier asked me to conduct a 3 hour program but due to exigencies, the time was cut short to 2.5 hours.  To maintain target outcomes, I requested them to drop the "tea break" and I would run the program through the 2.5 hours.  Bad mistake!  Never deny a teacher their breaks.  Suddenly, during the session, successful as it seemed to be, a random number of teachers started leaving presumably for the washroom without so much as a by-your-leave.  I am sure that the air-conditioning had a lot to do with it as several people kept signalling the electrician to control the temperature.  I realized later that the teachers getting up and (unobtrusively) leaving the room was more out of respect for the "speaker" than any intention to avoid the protocol.  But the feedback was clear and present - we need a break, said the body language.  Despite several decades of facilitation, I didn't grasp the fact or perhaps was too afraid that the break, if granted, would stretch on endlessly.

The other bit of physical feedback was the onslaught of support staff who arrived with clanking saucers (one of which was a flying saucer - flew out and smashed on the floor, attracting the assembly) and laid out snacks and tea.  At the best of times the smell of fresh bakes can distract the most avid participant.  So, though I knew there was a lot that could be done, I was painfully conscious of the time restriction and the need for the teachers to finish with the bell!  Which I did and for which I received spontaneous applause.

Verbal Feedback

My ego was well fed, during and after the program.  For one thing, teachers participated willingly when I introduced Hand Signals and other techniques of involvement.  When we talked about making a lesson Active, it was easy to demonstrate with an enthusiastic group of people who were willing to try it out and see it work. The worksheets went well, attempted by most and discussed quite animatedly.  But I felt that the best part of what I had presented was brought out in two instances - one, when I accidentally mentioned "three things to remember" and then proceeded to talk about only two.  Immediately one of the teachers asked "What about the third?" - I fumbled a bit and said that there were only two.  But mentally made a note to focus on my planning!

The other instance was the openly expressed opinion that the teachers had something they could take back to the classroom the next day -- the techniques discussed could be used without much modification.  One of the teachers said that they were clear about how they were going to implement a new technique in project work - an example of adaptation and internalization in action.

After we broke for tea and snacks, a number of teachers came up in bunches and expressed their satisfaction with the learning, specifying what exactly they were taking back.  All that is grist to the mill as far as the feel-good factor is concerned.  A team of people came up and asked for a specific program in the future -- that always feels great in my chosen profession, the come-back brand.

The Other Side of Feedback

And then, just when I was about to bask in my own importance, not to take away anything from the session, a teacher came up and said (I quote, almost verbatim), "I have been 26 years a teacher. When I started, I was full of love for teaching, feeling that I could and did make a difference to lives. Today, we face a different kind of problem -- parents' interference in the learning cycle.  Today we are not in a position to say anything to children, even to scold them for their own good.  Parents immediately come and demand an explanation - we are not allowed to discipline the children in any way, not even to reprimand them.  I feel we are depriving them of the ability to take disappointment and failure in their stride.  I will be retiring in a few years, a very disappointed teacher."

Naturally, like the faith healers and snake venom vendors of the last century, we "resource persons" or "speakers" present an idealistic view of the universe, making it sound like if one follows the prescription, all will be well.  And even more naturally, I had no answer to this teacher.  I bumbled through a couple of queries and statements which were roundly shouted down by the assembly.  I retired defeated with a promise to myself that this is an area educationists - and I count myself one - have to consider and deal with or we are going to lose our value over time.

The good thing, of course, is that this teacher got a louder round of applause than I did.  And left me a peg lower on the ladder of educational self-esteem.  A balanced feedback is always best.