The Power of Feedback Outside of the Classroom

Some conversations replay in your mind—not because you said the wrong thing, but because you heard the right thing.

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of chatting with a dean in the student success arena. She works on the graduate side, so when I asked how I could better prepare my students for the next level, she offered some sage advice.

Aside from the necessary academic and technical skills, she suggested they practice giving and receiving feedback.

This is something my colleagues and I discuss often when working with younger students. While rubrics provide consistency, they sometimes lack the detailed nuance of the "red ink" from our own school days. The need for constructive criticism, micro-adjustments, and real, unfiltered feedback is critical to student success.

I learned this lesson outside the classroom.

At fourteen, my cousin Pat helped me land my first job at Macy’s. I was a part-time employee and a member of the Macy’s Style Council. Along with ten or twelve other young women, I helped prepare models for fashion shows and even walked the runway myself. I still remember the white and turquoise button we wore at each event, and I recall the thrill of inviting my friends to  join me on the catwalk as we rocked trendy outfits under the bright, halogen lights of the Pentagon City Mall. For a few moments, we were glamorous. However, most of the job involved women shouting instructions at us, demanding we snap their dresses or picking up expensive garments they had tossed onto the dressing room floor as they changed between sets. My boss, Tomika, didn't pull any punches. She told us plainly if an outfit looked bad. She told us if we needed to fix our hair, smile more, and—for goodness' sake— stop eating so many croissants at Au Bon Pain.

Tomika was my boss nearly thirty-five years ago, but I still remember her no-nonsense approach and her candid, often curt, unsolicited feedback. That first job shaped me in ways I wouldn’t fully understand until I was much older. I learned to take pride in my work. I learned that earning my own money—starting at $4.25 an hour—brought a unique sense of fulfillment. I learned that not everyone plays with kid gloves. I recall my father driving me through the city, past the Washington Monument, to that glamorous box store; those commutes made me realize there was a whole world of experience outside my suburban bubble. Most importantly, that job built confidence.

I have encouraged my own boys to seek similar experiences that will grow them in ways school and family cannot. While they haven't been on a catwalk, they have worked on golf courses, in kitchens, and at pools. These jobs are not glamorous. The hours can be long, hot, and thankless, but they love them. These jobs also provide the kind of critical feedback that simply can’t be found in a classroom or at home.

Recently, at an accepted students' day at Virginia Tech, the Director of Admissions shared a statistic that surprised me. While data sets at these events usually focus on GPA, scholarships, geography, and enrollment, she made a point to highlight how many applicants held part-time jobs and the number of hours they worked while maintaining strong academics. Universities understand the value of authentic experiences that aren't curated in a classroom. They also understand that when students can balance work and school, they are much more likely to adapt to the rigors of college. 

Sometimes these experiences bring the kind of unsolicited feedback that shapes us in ways we never expected—words that land at exactly the right moment.