I really like the article: How to Give Feedback Without Sounding like a Jerk. I think that Grant does a good job of pointing out the problem with the normal way that people give praise and criticism. A lot of times, I find myself ignoring the compliments--as he points out, I don't feel like they are genuine. I always read past compliments and look for the criticism. I find myself dwelling on the negative commentary more than the positive, and the fact that it's often accompanying positivity makes it hard for me to see either in the correct light. The negative seems like a hidden barb, and the positive seems like superfluous fluff.
But I find myself giving feedback like that, because the last thing I want is for someone else to lose confidence or feel self-conscious about their writing. I don't want to be the reason someone doubts themselves, but sometimes I know that if I said what I really felt, it might actually help someone improve. I know that the point for everyone is to get better, but I have never been good at tough love.
I also read Be a Mirror. The most important part of this article for me was the fifth point about taking myself out of the feedback. I've never noticed it before, or maybe I've simply never acknowledged it, but saying "I think..." highlights the subjectivity of my commentary. It seems like a personal reaction that's relative to me and my opinions on their writing. It needs to be about the writer and what they have created and how they can improve their creations.
I read How To Get Past Negativity Bias by Katrina Schwartz. I know that I have a tendency to recount experiences and highlight the negative aspects rather than focusing on the positive. I don't know why I do that, honestly. Maybe it's easier to complain about small things than it is to believe I've actually had a nice day. But what Hanson, the psychologist Schwartz consulted, said about overreaction to negative stimulus is dead-on for me. In the past, I've dwelt on what's gone wrong rather than what's gone right. I'm trying not to do that so much, but it's honestly become a crutch. The bar for have a "bad day" is set so low, and the bar for a "good day" is set incredibly high. If I have a bad day, it only took one thing going wrong to make it bad; literally everything has to go right before I can begrudgingly call a good day a good day. That's not a good way to live. It give you an inaccurate idea about life. How can you improve if your negativity bias won't let you see where you really stand?
I also read Neil Gaiman's advice on brainpickings.org, mostly because I have read a few of his books and love him as an author. The most important thing that I took away from this article was the idea that "making mistakes means that you are trying something new." Trying new things is the bravest thing that anyone can do, and setting out with the knowledge that mistakes are likely to occur is the greatest adventure. Living in the comfort zone is comfortable but it's not really living. I personally love my comfort zone. But I've found that I'm more and more willing to try new things. Hard things. And I'm more and more willing to listen to people point out my mistakes (if they do it with good intention, of course) because it's worth a bruised ego to have room to grow.
I went to my professor to pitch my research topic to him. He cut it to shreds within minutes, told me it wasn't going to work. And then we had a conversation (a really, really long conversation) and by the time I left, I had a solid research topic that was related to my original idea but now had more focus. I brought him a huge chunk of marble and called it a sculpture, and he helped me actually start chipping away at the excess so that by the time I graduate, it'll be a masterpiece (hopefully). I think that's the goal of feedback: to leave the idea but cut out the excess until all anyone sees is brilliance.
