How Not to Over-Edit a Student’s College Essay
We want our kids to put their best foot forward, to share a piece of writing that reads clearly and compellingly, that is absolutely the very very best it can be. And yet, when it comes to editing, there’s a fine line between improvement and erasure … erasure of a student’s voice, their thoughts, their effort. Walking this line can be tricky. I know.
I’ll let you in on a secret: I sometimes wish I could write my students’ essays for them. I’d still have those long “get-to-know-you” conversations, taking notes, probing more deeply where I can see they’ve got a story to tell. We’d still land on a great idea for a topic and I’d still encourage them to freewrite – getting all those juicy details and insights out of their brain and onto the page without the constraints of grammar and narrative arc and judgment. But then I’d be the one to take all those amazing bits and – boom! – bang out an essay.
Think about how easy that would be! I wouldn’t have to nag anyone to meet their deadlines, or worry about how my feedback is landing. I wouldn’t have to motivate reluctant writers, or rein in the overly confident.
Only that’s not how I work.
Not only would it be unethical, but it would be a massive disservice to my students. They would miss out on learning how to develop both an outline and their voice. They’d miss honing their craft, and learning technique, and digging deeper into their own lived experiences in order to answer the ‘why.’ What they would learn is that they are not good enough, their efforts aren’t good enough, and that someone doesn’t trust them to tell their own story. Is this how we want to usher our kids into adulthood?
But, editing. How much is too much?
Here’s a handy checklist:
Fixing grammar mistakes? All good! (Even better if you leave a comment in the doc explaining why you suggest this change so that they can get it right the next time.)
Noting inappropriate word usage? Inigo Montoya and I both say that’s totally fine. (“I do not think it means what you think it means.”)
Vibe check? Yes, please! Always good to point out if a piece of writing sounds too braggy, or self-loathing, or judgmental.
Connecting the dots? Very helpful. Sometimes the reader needs a little more context to understand what the writer is hoping to communicate.
So what? Always good to encourage young writers to go a little deeper, uncover a new truth or understanding.
Give it a good polish and punch up vocabulary? Now we’re getting into dangerous territory.
If your feedback is not fixing grammatical errors, providing thoughtful guardrails, or helping to ensure that the reader is getting a clear picture of what’s inside the student’s mind and heart, then you’re probably going too far. If your edits change nothing but the style and tone, then you’ve overstepped.
I once worked with a student who had written a beautiful essay — but a few weeks after they finished, they asked me to review it again after their uncle made some edits. Sure, why not? I read through this essay, which was familiar, but it just felt off. I was looking for some significant change … some other point they might have forgotten to get across, a different ending. But all I saw was the same story written in a slightly different tone.
And then I got to this line: “I smiled insouciantly…”
I turned to my student while pointing to that sentence and asked, “Has that word ever come out of your mouth?” At which point, they smiled at me sheepishly and said, “no.”
I had to explain to this student that the only difference between what they wrote, and what their uncle rewrote, was a matter of style and vocabulary. And that this rewrite, with words like “insouciantly,” would raise a giant red flag to admissions that this might not be the student’s own work. (Also, it wasn’t even an improvement on what the student had originally written, for what it’s worth!)
Another time, I was reviewing a student’s work and saw that a parent had left a comment in their draft: “What if you add something like this? …” Only, the “something like this” was an entire paragraph! Written by the parent!
Always better to point out the problem (if it’s really a problem) rather than to craft the solution. This way, the student can submit their work, their own work, insouciantly.*
* This is technically the correct use of the word, but it still sounds super awkward! If you have ever used this word in a sentence – in writing or out loud – please let me know!