The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

 What kind of feedback helps you improve?

I always like to think that life has a good balance of good and bad. My culture has a tradition, every New Year, of partaking in a special drink: it starts off sweet and pleasant, then hits you with strikingly bitter undertones. The idea is to provide a metaphor for life; sometimes sweet, sometimes unpleasant.

I’ve always appreciated an appropriate balance of these two poles, both from other people towards me and from myself. I don’t appreciate when people are all compliments, but no one appreciates a brutally honest jerk either. That’s why, when I want feedback or help, I also want a good balance of these. Improvement is virtually nonexistent if you’re constantly told you’re great, but there’s minimal motivation to improve if others' feedback is overwhelmingly negative. That’s why I’ve always found that balanced feedback has been the most effective for me to improve on my work. Something that preferably, I’ll admit, appeals to my ego, but also something that is clear and honest about my flaws. That way, I’m not entirely demoralized, but I still know what I’m doing wrong.

This trend has appeared everywhere in my life, from sports coaching to essay advice. On essays especially, I’ve found myself much more receptive to feedback when I’ve been given positive comments alongside the “negative” revisionary comments. It feels a little shallow, but I’m always more receptive to feedback when I see that the person giving feedback also recognizes my work’s successes. At least then, I can feel proud of my work (as I should), but also focus on improving. 

My history of tennis coaches has illuminated to me the difference between good, balanced feedback and unhelpful feedback. One of the coaches I currently work with can often switch unpredictably between flattery and negativity. There will be times where I have one shot that is working well and one that I am getting increasingly frustrated with, and this coach will simply notice the good shot and move on. At that moment in time, yes, being happy with that shot won’t hurt, but I need help with my mistakes. In contrast, when I am making mostly mistakes and getting down on myself, he’ll stand there and lecture me about how I’m playing wrong (though he makes no move to offer suggestions). Many other players and I dislike this coach because of how he fails to recognize what kind of feedback we need at each moment. I’ve also had great coaches, who are supportive of my good shots and in the same breath will give me something new to focus and improve on. Some of the best stretches of improvement in my game have followed working with these coaches and receiving the feedback that evolving players like me need.

Sometimes though, I take it a bit too far. There are times where I struggle to accept negative feedback because my brain seeks some validation before it can even process “room for improvement”. It’s certainly unrealistic for me to expect constant positive feedback on all my future work, but it’s difficult to adapt to not receiving validation after years of childhood education filled with customary praises and compliments. I expect that in the next few years, I’ll learn that feedback isn’t always sunshine and rainbows: in fact, it’s rarely commendatory. But generally, I’ve found the best feedback achieves an equilibrium: neither too high, nor too low.