Written feedback doesn’t work. This might sound strange to you, but hear me out. It is a realisation that has changed my life ─ and it could change yours, too.

I have been an English teacher for 18 years and am now a lead practitioner in an inner-city secondary school. Those of us who have been in the profession for this length of time have seen numerous initiatives come and go: literacy strategy, numeracy strategy, APP, key stage 3 Sats; the list goes on ad infinitum.

But there is one thing that has never changed: how teachers have remained at the mercy of marking and written feedback policies. We have all spent days, nights, weekends and holidays furiously scribbling in students’ books in the naive belief that the hours we spend are being warmly received and that our advice is being diligently followed. Either that or we believe that some faceless third party will see our comments and think, “Goodness me! This teacher is amazing. Outstanding, indeed! This is what effective marking and feedback should look like.”

I hate to burst your bubble, but a lot of that time could have been spent on things that would have better served both you and the children you teach.

This realisation struck me during a Monday morning lesson, after a whole weekend spent marking books. I had written positive, constructive comments with realistic targets for improvement in every one. I had invited student responses with wonderfully pregnant rhetorical questions.

Who cares that I didn’t spend time with my wife and kids? I knew it would all be worth it when I gave those books out and saw my students’ little faces lighting up as they realised how, simply by following my beautifully crafted insights, they could achieve the very best grades possible.

‘Written feedback wasn’t having the desired effect’

With a song in my heart, I handed the first set of books out to my top-set Year 10 on Monday morning.

But something was wrong. It quickly became apparent that my efforts were not being reciprocated. Sure, the students looked at what I’d written, but was my effort really going to have the effect that I wanted it to? Were my blood, sweat and tears going to pay off in improved grades from now on? It was fairly obvious that the answer was ‘no’.

I dropped my copy of An Inspector Calls and asked my students what they did with the written comments they received from teachers. Their answer was what I feared it would be: they simply looked at the grade and turned the page. They read the comments, but did not act upon them. Top-set students like these were only really interested in what they’d got, not in what they needed to do next.

I realised that my hours of work would never achieve what I wanted them to, and so set out to change this.

In my next lesson with the same students, I gave them a questionnaire and elicited that what they wanted was quality, personalised feedback from their teachers, much as I had myself wanted when I was their age. What had helped me the most were not the formulaic red-penned comments; it was the teacher taking five minutes to talk through what I had done well, not so well and what I needed to do next.

Finding an alternative

By being creative with our time in the classroom and ensuring that students are engaged in their own learning, guided by high-quality teacher input, a revolution is at hand. Students can read, answer questions and get on with some aspects of their work, while the teacher provides five-10 minute tutorials with individual students, which culminate in the student summarising the conversation and writing down what they need to do next.

In every way, this is a winner. Students are developing the skills they need for this curriculum we are all burdened with. Teachers can engage in (and evidence) effective assessment for learning and ensure that any interested third party can see where input has been given and improvements made.

By following this simple method, I have got my life back ─ at least partially.

I know that we will never be free of the yokes of the red pen, lofty targets and performance management. Neither do I underestimate the fact that we will always be caught in the crossfire of political agendas and educational fashion. However, if we spend quality time with our students in class, we will have more quality time of our own outside of the classroom.

Think about this next time you find yourself on only book number 16 out of 28, at 6pm on a Sunday night, at your wit’s end and out of red ink.

Me? I’m off to read my children a bedtime story and then settle down with my wife for a night in front of the telly.

Ian Healey is lead practitioner for English at a secondary school in Birmingham

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