The Power of Feedback: A Journey of Growth
Feedback has shaped my journey in ways I never could have predicted. It has lifted me, challenged me, and, at times, made me question my abilities. I have felt its wound and its power. Over the years, I have learned that the way feedback is given can mean the difference between confidence and doubt, growth and hesitation. As a student, I experienced both—the kind that pushed me forward and the kind that made me want to disappear. As an educator, I carry those experiences with me. Every word I offer my students is shaped by what I’ve learned along the way—lessons that changed not only my teaching but the way I see myself.
One of the most impactful lessons about the power of feedback came during my tenth-grade biology class. That year, an extended teacher strike left us out of school for several weeks. I had been working on a long-term project—growing and documenting the life cycle of a rose bush. Every morning, I’d sketch the plant in my journal, even though art wasn’t exactly my strength. I focused on being consistent, capturing every tiny change as best I could. When we finally returned to school, I remember nervously handing in my journal, unsure how it would be received.
My teacher didn’t just glance at it—she took the time to go through each page. Her first words weren’t about my shaky sketches, they were about my diligence. She smiled and told me that consistency and curiosity are the marks of a good scientist. Then, gently and constructively, she showed me how to improve my report and invited me to revise it. That moment changed everything for me. Her feedback made me feel seen, not just for the final product, but for my effort in creating it. It motivated me to do better, not because I was afraid to fail, but because I knew someone believed in me and expected my best.
Sometimes, her encouragement came through simple gestures—a nod, a knowing smile, a quiet “keep going.” They were small, but they mattered. They helped me see myself as a budding scientist and reminded me that growth is a process. That experience still shapes how I give feedback to my own students: highlight their strengths, guide their next steps, and always leave room for growth.
For me, feedback is more than correction. It can build resilience, open doors, and ignite something greater than simple improvement—it can spark confidence. Through trial, mistakes, and small victories, I’ve found what makes feedback meaningful for me. These small moments of feedback made a difference for me, and I strive to create them for my students, ensuring they feel valued and capable as they navigate their own journeys.
One of my earliest memories of feedback still lingers in my mind. In fourth grade, I stared at a paper covered in red ink, my mistakes glaring back at me. I saw failure. I saw, “You’re not good enough.” I didn’t see a path forward—only the weight of what I had done wrong. Everything changed in fifth grade. My teacher, Ms. Davis, approached feedback differently. She was giving me feedback on a math problem, showing me the importance of writing out each step instead of just rushing to the answer. She explained that when I took the time to show my work, I could more easily find where I had made a mistake and learn from it. That simple lesson—valuing the process and the details—has stayed with me ever since. It has shaped how I approach science, where following steps is critical, and even beyond academics. She sat beside me, pointing out my strengths first. She didn’t just mark errors, but rather she guided me. Her words weren’t about what I had done wrong, but about what I could do next. For the first time, feedback didn’t feel like a judgment. It felt like a conversation.
That early lesson shaped how I now give feedback to my own students—feedback that doesn’t stifle but instead opens doors to growth. I strive to make it a conversation, one that highlights strengths while also offering new possibilities. For example, one of my students had mastered the facts for her class presentation and could recite them perfectly, but I saw an opportunity for her to grow in delivery. Rather than pointing out what was missing, I sat with her and acknowledged her hard work and accuracy. Then I gently suggested that she collaborate with a peer who had a gift for articulation, framing it as a chance to strengthen her presentation and to practice the essential 21st-century skill of teamwork.
Her words weren’t about what I had done wrong, but about what I could do next.
Later, she reflected on the experience and told me, “At first, I was nervous, but your feedback helped me see another way. I realized I don’t always have to do things alone. Working with my classmate gave me confidence I didn’t know I had.” Her final presentation radiated boldness and clarity, and she proudly celebrated both her own growth and her peer’s contribution. That moment reaffirmed my view of feedback. I strive to create a space where mistakes are not final verdicts, but steppingstones to something better. I know what it feels like to wither under criticism, and I know what it feels like to rise because of encouragement. Every time I offer feedback, I return to that lesson, and I choose to uplift.
I remember the first time a student told me that my feedback made a difference. She had struggled, revised, and struggled again. She had nearly given up. But she didn’t. “I didn’t think I was good at this,” she told me. “But you made me believe I could be.” That moment will stay with me forever, because I know what it’s like to be discouraged, and I know what it’s like to hear words that make me believe that I can. That is what feedback has given me. That is what I strive to give my students. Sometimes, all it takes is the right words at the right moment.
After reflecting on my own experiences, as well as reading research about how the brain changes, schools function, and humans interact, here is what I have learned: teachers need to give timely, personalized, and actionable feedback that acknowledges students’ strengths and areas of growth, while also modeling how to accept feedback graciously.
Choosing the right timing
I have felt the frustration of feedback that comes too late. There is nothing more discouraging than hearing what should have been done after the chance to fix it has passed. I remember working on a class science project where my experiment kept failing, and I couldn’t figure out why. After I submitted it, I finally realized that I didn’t need to double all of my reactants—I only needed to adjust the pH by adding more baking soda. What I really needed at the time wasn’t someone to hand me the solution, but a bit of guidance to point me in the right direction so I could discover it myself. I never wanted my students to feel that way, so I’ve found ways to make feedback immediate. Quick conversations, sticky notes, digital comments—anything that reaches them while they can still use it. I have seen the difference it makes when feedback arrives at the right moment—the light in a student’s eyes when they realize they can improve, that it isn’t too late to adjust. I have learned that feedback isn’t just about what is said, but when.
Balance honesty with encouragement
Criticism has never been easy for me to hear. Even when I knew it was meant to help, it sometimes felt weighty. I remember moments when feedback left me feeling small. I also remember moments when it made me feel capable. That contrast shaped the way I speak to my students. I refuse to let my words discourage. Instead, I choose words that push while uplifting them.
I avoid saying, “This is wrong.” Instead, I say, “This is close—let’s refine it.” I do not tell my students, “This isn’t good enough.” I tell them, “This has potential—let’s take it further.” While the difference is small, it means everything. When feedback builds instead of breaks, students do not recoil from it. They lean in to learn and they try again.
Tailor feedback to the individual
I’ve learned that not all feedback resonates the same way. What empowers one student might miss the mark for another. Some thrive on written comments they can process in silence, while others need a quiet, face-to-face conversation. That’s why I’ve come to value variety, because how feedback is delivered matters just as much as what is said.
For students who prefer to reflect on their own, I leave thoughtful notes—small messages that say, “I see you.” When I sense doubt creeping in, I pull students aside for a one-on-one talk, offering reassurance or redirection. And sometimes, I give space for self-reflection, because the most powerful feedback can be the kind students give themselves.
Model how to grow
I refuse to let my students believe that mistakes define them. They don’t. I have made too many of my own to believe that failure is final. I tell them about the times I struggled, the moments I had to revise, rewrite, and rethink, like when a mentor told me to simplify my language while giving class instructions. It completely changed how I communicate with students and I was able to adapt and grow from their words. I want them to see that I do not expect only them to embrace feedback—I do it too. When I am open about my own growth, my students become more open to theirs. When they see me accept feedback with curiosity rather than defensiveness, they start to do the same, and are more prepared to internalize that mistakes are not failures but steppingstones to success.
Students also need to see what success looks like—not just in the final product, but in the effort, persistence, and revisions that led there. I regularly highlight student work, not just for its quality but for the traits that led to success. I try to highlight students who have refined their work and incorporated feedback between different steps in the process. This practice helps to put the emphasis of learning on the effort and resilience of students, not on the final product.
Connect feedback to action
Now, I make sure my students don’t just receive feedback—they use it.
The most valuable feedback I ever received wasn’t just something I read—it was something I acted on. Now, I make sure my students don’t just receive feedback—they use it. Rather than handing back assignments and moving on, I ask them to reflect, revise, and try again. When students revisit their work with new understanding, they improve their assignments while also gaining confidence. They see their progress with their own eyes. That is when feedback becomes more than just words on a page. That is when it sticks like glue.
One of the most powerful ways to motivate students is to connect feedback to where their learning can take them. Instead of saying, “You need to work on your scientific reasoning,” I frame it as, ”Strong reasoning and communication are essential for scientists making life-changing decisions. If you build this strength now, it will open doors to your dream job, career opportunities, and beyond.”
The focus on the future helps students see that their current learning is not just about a grade—but a gateway to their dreams.
In addition, students need to know that even their small efforts matter. I make a point to celebrate progress by showing students how the skills they are mastering now could impact their future careers. For example, when students create fingerprint diagrams in forensic science, I comment on more than just their accuracy. Instead, I consider the broader skills that will be applicable in many fields, such as attention to detail, analyzing evidence, careful observation, and social justice. This real life connection allows students to see the purpose behind their learning, boosting motivation and instilling a sense of responsibility for their work.
Another way to help students act upon feedback is allowing time for self-reflection. I use these questions to help guide students to think critically about their feedback and create an action plan for implementing it.
- What part of this feedback surprised you?
- How can you apply this in your next piece of work?
- What specific steps will you take to improve?
Teaching students how to use feedback helps them develop self-regulation skills needed for higher education, their careers, and life.
For me, feedback is one of the most powerful tools in education—not just for learning but for shaping futures and opening doors of opportunity. When I have given feedback with intentionality, it ignited aspirations, built resilience, and even changed lives. Through my experience, I’ve found that feedback works best when it is more than just an evaluation, but acts as a powerful compass—guiding students toward their potential, their passions, and their future impact on the world.
Citation
Ravalier, M. (2026). The power of feedback: A journey of growth. Kaleidoscope: Educator Voices and Perspectives, 12(2), https://knowlesteachers.org/resource/the-power-of-feedback-a-journey-of-growth.