I think I've always tried to use feedback in authentic ways whenever I have requested it. However, I'm sure that I have been guilty of not truly honoring the voices I bring to any given table. I want to do better. I want kaizen to be my middle name! :-) and so, I'm writing this to share with you a recent experience where I got to see what it really looks like to close the feedback loop to nowhere.
The first video team, which had planned a kindergarten-focused video, had to withdraw from the project, so I stepped in and recorded myself with my kindergarten son. I wrote the script, videotaped my introduction, and we filmed my son and me in action for the video's demo portion. Our videographer edited the footage into a nice-looking final product, complete with captions on screen, etc. We received favorable feedback from my supervisor and colleagues who watched the final product. Although there were things about the video I wished I could have changed, I felt iffy about asking
our videographer to make changes. I know how much work he had to have put in for the first version, after all! Then, it happened...
I added and rearranged parts of the script. I found a new book to feature in our video, and scheduled a re-filming of both my introduction and the demo with my son. To be honest, I was amazed that our videographer was game! (I will always give him props for that.) We filmed a brand new video. On filming day, I emailed all of those focus group participants with lavish praise for their willingness to give me meaningful information about my work. I detailed all of the changes they had suggested and let them know what the response had been to each one--how I had used their feedback.
I think in the end, we were all pleased with the return on investment for the time we spent together going over that initial video. It will no doubt reap dividends for our entire school district! But what if things had gone the way I'm used to seeing them go in spaces where we ask people for their feedback? What if we had simply gathered in that room and I had taken notes about what those ladies said, then put my notes on the shelf? What if I had never come back to them to inform them of how I'd used their feedback and convinced them that their time spent was worth it? What if I had been unwilling to make any changes to the video even though it wasn't the best it could be? I began to ask myself these questions and I realized that our process is something I haven't really seen modeled, but I think we should do more of. How powerful would it be if every time we ask someone for their feedback, they can trust that we really want to know and that we really are open to change? I'm not saying that every effort should go again to the drawing board and begin from scratch. We all know that would be wildly inefficient. But couldn't we do a better job as education systems and even as individual educators, honoring each other's thoughts and opinions through creating more meaningful feedback loops?
I share this story not to toot my horn. I actually only stumbled upon that process and the learning it produced. But it was a powerful stumble, and I intend to keep learning from it and replicating that kind of approach. I encourage you to take whatever you can from this story to enhance your feedback loops, as well. There is something powerful to be said for being heard, and sadly, in education we need much more of it than we currently see. So if you know anyone who can benefit from this story, please share it. Together, we have the potential to change the face of feedback in our systems and beyond!
Cheers,
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