Failure can be a Powerful Learning Tool

Failure is not a bad “F” word.

We greatly underestimate the value of failure in education.  First, let me explain that I was not the type of teacher to coddle or turn every wrong answer into a “sorta”  or “almost” correct answer.  I saw the value in letting my students know that their answers were correct or incorrect.  Keep in mind, that for the most part, this type of feedback is generally used for  knowledge or factual level information.  As an English teacher, I did not live in that level extensively.  Our classes strove to reach the level of critical thought.  At this level, the feedback may resemble, “I disagree with you, convince me.”  My point is that I never felt compelled to massage an incorrect knowledge or factual answer into a “sorta” correct answer, nor would I accept a general claim from a student without support.

I saw the value in challenging the student to learn from their incorrect answers and failed attempts.  Please don’t think I am mean.  I was genuine in my desire for my students to learn to excel.  I encouraged taking risks; a high level of failure is connected with risk taking.  If you failed, it meant a few things to mean.  First, you tried something that you were not confident you would be successful the first time.  Second, it would provide you with a tremendous amount of quality feedback from me or from your own experience.  I was proud of my students who “risked learning.”

Kids are great at reading adults.  They can see fake or disingenuous comments.  We can do a great deal of harm by providing children with a false sense of accomplishment.  Why would a child strive to do better if their moderate effort was superfluously flaunted.  Don’t be mean–be accurate.  Praise effort and growth, but be accurate about their product.  We should strive to teach students how to use specific and timely feedback to continue to grow.

The best feedback comes from addressing the areas in which a student struggles or fails.  This is a great learning tool.  To illustrate with a non academic example, my oldest son has been wanting to throw a spiral and catch a pass.  In my family, soccer is the sport of choice–football is out of his comfort zone.  So, we have been playing catch in the yard with a soft, under inflated child’s football.  He was not good at catching or throwing a spiral.  In fact he hardly ever caught the ball and rarely was able to throw it back in anything that resembled a football.  My son is 9.  I did not expect him to throw or catch a football the first, second, or even third time we played catch.  When he dropped the ball, I would praise his effort and occasionally point out one area to work on, such as “use your hands and not your body to catch.”  It did not require me to point out his failed attempt–the ball bouncing on the ground was obvious.  I did not give him false or disingenuous praise either.  I explained what catching and throwing a football looked like, modeled it for him, and coached him by giving him specific feedback, but basically, I just provided him with large amounts of time and practice to try it, make mistakes, and learn without fear of my judgement.  I am proud that he now can catch a pretty well zipped ball and returns it with a nicer looking spiral than I ever was able to throw.  Each time he dropped a pass or threw a wild ball, he learned.  he learned more from his failures than from my coaching.  After the initial modeling, I didn’t need to even speak while we played and he continued to learn.  The best part was that I was enjoying the time playing catch with my son.

How did we learn as children?  We made hundreds of attempts before we achieved success.  When do we give our students these opportunities to fail in safety.  Isn’t school the best place to try new things and fail?  How can students learn without failure?  Schools should provide opportunities for students to take risks for understanding and growth without the fear of judgement.  We need to provide them a culture that values the growth that comes from failure.  The fear of accountability through test scores has encouraged schools to value correct answers over growth and risk taking.  However, we do know that students will learn more through challenges and failures along the way.  This form of actual learning cannot always be measured through a standardized test.  Do we want children who know the correct answers for a test, or do we want children who know how to learn from mistakes and failures?  What is our actual mission as educators?

I do not want to teach children to find the correct answer; we need children that can risk, fail, learn, and ultimately succeed.