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I’ve realized that I am often seeking feedback whether I admit it or not. From the pictures I post online to the conversations I have with friends, I am often looking for approval, agreement, commiseration. I am slowly learning to accept that I am doing the best I can with what I have today, while remaining open to growth.

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In workplaces, feedback can be tricky, because we so often link our identity with our vocation, so any grow points offered feel like an invalidation or (if poorly delivered) an attack.

I just finished the evaluation process at my new school. Fifteen pages detailed how  well I did my job based on four forty-minute long observation visits to my classroom, along with my own narrative of what’s happening. (I passed with flying colors, don’t worry.) There weren’t any grow points offered. I’m at a place in my career where I am not afraid to ask for honest feedback. I’m often surprised by how difficult it is for people to say much that’s constructive outside of just stating what they observe, which is actually the best feedback.  Sometimes I think I’m looking for an evaluation when I just need eyes to help me see my blindspots, as well as to reframe what is and isn’t there.

In writing it’s much the same. Early on, writers tend to work in the dark, in journals they promise to burn. This is a necessary step, but don’t stay there. Begin to develop work for others to read. The best thing I’ve done on my journey is sharing my work and asking for feedback. Sometimes I post on my blog where an audience responds or ignores it. Other times I share only with a small group of writing friends, who I trust to give me constructive feedback.

When I began posting my work, I was very careful and precious with what I posted, not wanting to post anything that might draw a negative reaction. When readers chimed in and said something didn’t work or made a suggestion, at first I recoiled. Luckily, I’ve been around long enough not to respond immediately when I’m emotional, and within a day or two, I was able to evaluate what was said. So often, I have to evaluate the feedback I’m given, and I’ve been using these three guiding points:

  1. Source: does this person know my heart and genuinely want to see me be better? (If yes, I need to understand the feedback and use it. If no, I need to consider what might be helpful and discard the rest.)
  2. Audience: Is this reader the intended audience? If so, I begin asking questions to help me understand where it missed the mark. If no, I let it go. (Trolls and mean comments are easy to rehearse, but ultimately unhelpful. I’m working to let those go asap and rehearse the positives instead).
  3. Content: I’ve learned to accept that most feedback can reveal strengths and weaknesses. When a reader says “I don’t get this character” or “There’s too many characters for me to keep straight,” I revise. Does it sting? For a second, but it makes the work stronger.

If you’ve been writing for a while, consider that maybe your next step is to show your work to someone else.  It’s one of most terrifying, vulnerable things you can do, but it immediately pushes you to grow.

If you find yourself seeking feedback this week in any arena, ask yourself why. Is it to grow? Or feel validated? Do you need to be encouraged? Ask for what you need instead of hinting around it. When I ask someone to visit my room at school or read my manuscript, I’ve started asking for what I need, and then I listen and sort through what others observe. Also, accept where you are on your journey. Honest feedback makes you question things— don’t let it tear you down or paralyze you. Use what you can and release the rest.

Next up: how to give better feedback