When I first read the UAL anti-racism action plan, especially the bit that says “increase representation of BAME academic staff by 15%” and “by 50% at Grade 7” (UAL, 2021), I didn’t feel reassured. I felt anxious. I started to question myself: Was I employed because I’m good at what I do, or was it to help the numbers look better? I support the idea of equity and increasing representation, of course I do, but this way of framing it made me feel like a statistic, not a person.
Asif Sadiq’s TED Talk (2023) put words to something I’d been struggling to explain. He says, “It’s easy to count people, but it’s hard to make people count.” That really hit home. Sometimes inclusion feels more like performance, something that looks good on paper, but doesn’t actually shift who is being listened to or who feels like they belong. It reminded me of another point he made, about how all the case studies and resources he saw while studying business were about the successful people who didn’t look like him. That example stayed with me. It mirrors what I sometimes feel in my own academic journey, like I’m not the person these spaces were originally built for.
Bradbury (2020) deepens this point using Critical Race Theory. She explains how policy, even when it claims to be neutral, often centres whiteness as the default. She writes that “representation is necessary but not sufficient” and argues that without shifting power, policies risk turning people of colour into symbols of institutional success instead of truly including them. That resonated. Sometimes being visible feels like being under a spotlight rather than being supported.
On Monday, in our group discussion in the workshop 3, we spoke about this too. We questioned where these percentages in the action plan came from, and who decides them. We also talked about the way data is collected, how we’re not always told why our identity data is being used, or how. That can feel invasive and a bit performative, especially when you’re not sure if it’s helping or just another tick box. We also questioned the term “BAME”—how it groups so many different people together and ends up creating a binary between “white” and “everyone else.”
I’m not saying the action plan is bad. It’s a step. But if we want real change, the approach has to go deeper. Garrett (2024) talks about how racialised PhD students often can’t picture a future in academia because the system hasn’t shown them one. That really stayed with me, because representation on paper doesn’t always translate into real support, real listening, or a real sense of belonging.
One thing our group suggested was making data collection more transparent, clearly explaining how it’s used, and why, and building it into a two-way conversation. Because anti-racism shouldn’t feel like something happening to us—it should feel like something we’re actively shaping together.
Reference:
Bradbury, A., 2020. A critical race theory framework for education policy analysis: The case of bilingual learners and assessment policy in England. Race Ethnicity and Education, 23(2), pp.241–260.
Garrett, R., 2024. Racism shapes careers: Career trajectories and imagined futures of racialised minority PhDs in UK higher education. Globalisation, Societies and Education, pp.1–15.
Sadiq, A., 2023. Diversity, Equity & Inclusion. Learning how to get it right. TEDx Talks , 2 March. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HR4wz1b54hw [Accessed 4 June 2025].
University of the Arts London (UAL), 2021. UAL Anti-racism Action Plan Summary. London: UAL.
After studying Kimberlé Crenshaw’s theory of intersectionality, which highlights how different aspects of identity such as race, gender, disability, and class can overlap to create unique experiences of discrimination and privilege (Crenshaw, 1991), I found the video Intersectionality in Focus: Empowering Voices during UK Disability History Month 2023 particularly resonant.
In this video, Chay Brown shares his experience as a white, trans man with a mental health disability. Although his whiteness grants him certain privileges, he also faces complex challenges navigating hidden disabilities and decoding social cues within the LGBTQ+ community. His story powerfully shows that discrimination is not caused by a single aspect of identity, but by the collision and compounding of multiple identities.
Reflecting on Chay Brown’s Intersectionality by Rebekah Guo, 2025
In the diagram I created, I mapped out different parts of Chay Brown’s identity: being white, living with a mental health disability, and being a trans mom. As a white man, Chay carries certain social privileges, especially compared to racial minorities. But at the same time, his lived experience is far from simple. Being a trans gay man with a hidden disability brings layered, often invisible challenges. Because his disability is not immediately visible, it can be harder for him to express his needs or gain recognition for the barriers he faces. There’s also the pressure to learn the subtle non-verbal communication often expected in male-dominated spaces, as he described, it’s adding another layer of anxiety.
Chay’s interview really resonated with me because it reminded me of my own intersectional identity. I am a Chinese woman, living with a mental health disability, and an immigrant. There are challenging situations I encounter sometimes without even fully realising they’re unfair. I’ve learned to fit in, to read hidden social cues, even when doing so feels uncomfortable or overwhelming. I am also neurodivergent, and I find it very stressful to stay in loud, chaotic social environments for extended periods. For a long time, I thought I simply disliked these spaces, but now I understand it as part of my disability experience, not a personal failing.
Reflecting on my own Intersectionality by Rebekah Guo, 2025
According to UAL Active Dashboard data (University of the Arts London, 2024), around 2.94% of students declared mental health conditions in 2024/25, 656 individuals. While this may seem like a small proportion, it actually represents a significant number of people who are navigating invisible disabilities alongside the demands of academic life. Although UAL offers a wide range of mental health support services, not all students are aware of them, and many may feel hesitant or uncomfortable seeking help.
University of the Arts London (2024) UAL Active Dashboard: Student Profile: Characteristic 2024/25
This reality makes it even more critical to recognise that inclusion must happen inside the classroom itself, not just through external support channels. Hidden disabilities, like mental health challenges, are often overlooked in standard classroom practices. As a result, many students who are struggling silently end up feeling excluded, even when they are physically present.
Reflecting on intersectionality has made me realise that creating a genuinely inclusive learning environment means intentionally valuing and responding to invisible needs—not just visible ones. In my future practice, I want to make hidden disabilities visible in the sense of recognition and respect, without forcing disclosure. By embedding flexible ways to engage, express, and participate into everyday teaching, I hope to create spaces where students with diverse, often unseen, experiences can truly feel seen and supported.
In the third interview video, Christine Sun Kim’s words, “If you don’t see us, we have no place to be,” stayed with me deeply after watching her interview. It reminded me that visibility is not just about acknowledgement — it’s about expectation, about infrastructure, about creating spaces where people know they are anticipated, not just accommodated.
Reference:
Crenshaw, K. (1991) ‘Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color’, Stanford Law Review, 43(6), pp. 1241–1299.
University of the Arts London (2024) UAL Active Dashboard: Student Profile: Characteristic – Disability 2024/25, unpublished internal data. Accessed 29th April 2025
YouTube (2023) Intersectionality in Focus: Empowering Voices during UK Disability History Month 2023 . Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_yID8_s5tjc (Accessed: 28 April 2025).
YouTube (2021) Christine Sun Kim: “Friends and Strangers” . Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqoDsQyqGpA (Accessed: 28 April 2025).
This blog post has been supported by grammar and expression checking using OpenAI’s ChatGPT 4o model.
OpenAI (2025) ChatGPT [online]. Available at: https://chat.openai.com/ (Accessed: 28 April 2025).
Malcolm, F. (2020). Silencing and Freedom of Speech in UK Higher Education. British Educational Research Journal, [online] 47(3).
Sammary:
In this article, Malcolm (2021) explores whether freedom of speech is genuinely under threat in UK universities or if this narrative has been exaggerated. He argues that media coverage often amplifies isolated incidents like no-platforming or disruptive protests, creating a sense of crisis that doesn’t reflect the actual scale of restriction. Instead of just discussing “freedom of speech,” Malcolm introduces a more nuanced concept—silencing—which includes both legal restrictions and subtle, often invisible forms of pressure that cause people to self-censor.
He creates a taxonomy of silencing, including:
Pre-emptive silencing (e.g., disinviting speakers before they arrive),
Passive inhibitive silencing (e.g., students feeling too intimidated or afraid of judgment to speak), and
Illocutionary silencing (when someone speaks, but their words are ignored or dismissed).
Malcolm finds that while extreme forms like no-platforming are rare and usually justified, passive silencing is more widespread and concerning, especially among Muslim students and those with conservative views, who feel pressure to stay quiet in certain environmentsMalcolm 2021 Silencing ….
He also discusses the role of government policies like the Prevent Duty, which, though intended to stop extremism, can create a “chilling effect” on free speech—leading some students to avoid controversial topics or even hide aspects of their identityMalcolm 2021 Silencing ….
Ultimately, Malcolm argues that universities must look beyond headline-grabbing debates and start addressing the deeper, more nuanced issues around who feels heard—and who doesn’t—in campus conversations.
Reflective Writing:
Reading Malcolm’s article made me realise how deeply all three types of silencing—pre-emptive, passive, and illocutionary, exist around me and within me.
As a woman of colour, I’ve often avoided talking about politics, particularly anything related to China. I’m very aware of how Chinese politics are framed in the West, and I’ve seen how easily a conversation can turn uncomfortable or hostile, even when my intention is just to share a personal view. Malcolm (2021) describes this type of pre-emptive silencing as a form of self-censorship, where people choose not to speak because of the potential risks or misunderstandings, especially in politically charged contexts.
I’ve also experienced illocutionary silencing as an international student. In group discussions, I sometimes hesitated for a long time before speaking—because I’d already learned that sharing my thoughts could lead to awkward silence or be ignored altogether. When everyone else seemed to agree with a dominant opinion, I started assuming my perspective wasn’t valuable. As Malcolm (2021, p. 5) points out, “silencing” can happen when students feel like their voices won’t be heard or respected, even if they are technically allowed to speak.
These reflections have made me reconsider how I create space for discussion. I’ve started thinking about using prompts like, “Does anyone have a different view?” or “Can you think of an alternative example?”—not just to encourage participation, but to signal clearly that it’s safe to disagree and to bring in personal perspectives. It’s not enough to say “this is a safe space”; we need to actively build that space through how we respond to difference. As a lecturer from China, this adds another layer of complexity to how I think about classroom dialogue. I’m teaching in a Western institution where freedom of speech is often associated with directness, debate, and open confrontation of ideas. Meanwhile, I come from a cultural background that also values freedom of expression, but often expresses this through more indirect or context-sensitive communication. In many Chinese contexts, there is a strong emphasis on harmony, relational respect, and timing—people often speak with awareness of how their words might affect group dynamics or social relationships. So I often find myself balancing between these two communication styles. I don’t want to avoid difficult topics, but I’m also mindful of how different students, especially international ones, might feel overwhelmed or exposed in open debates. My goal is to create a space where students can express themselves freely, but also thoughtfully, with awareness of the diverse cultural lenses in the room. Freedom of speech, to me, isn’t just about the right to speak—it’s about being heard, being safe, and being seen as part of the conversation.
I’ve also been thinking about the role of 1-to-1 support sessions in breaking silencing patterns. For many students, especially international ones or those from underrepresented backgrounds—the classroom can feel like a performance space, where there’s pressure to say the “right thing” or follow dominant views. But in a one-to-one setting, they’re often more willing to share thoughts, ask questions they might feel embarrassed about in front of others, or even challenge ideas in a safer, more personalised environment. I now see 1-to-1 sessions not just as academic support, but as a space to validate individual perspectives and gently encourage more confident participation over time. It’s a quiet but meaningful way to help students reclaim their voices.
References Malcolm, J. (2021) ‘Silencing and Freedom of Speech in UK Higher Education’, Education and Self Development, 16(3), pp. 4–13. https://doi.org/10.26907/esd.16.3.01
In Positionality: The Interplay of Space, Context and Identity, Bayeck (2022) explores how a researcher’s identity is not fixed but constantly shifting depending on where they are and who they are with. Drawing from her own cross-cultural fieldwork, she describes how her status as an insider or outsider changed based on gender, nationality, and the spaces she occupied. Bayeck introduces the idea of being an “in-out-sider” to capture the complexity of holding multiple, fluid positions simultaneously.
Similarly, in Issues of Power and Representation, Schiffer (2020) reflects on her participatory design work in The Gambia and how her identity as a white European woman shaped her relationships with local collaborators. She emphasises that reflexivity is not just personal reflection, but an ethical, ongoing practice that challenges power dynamics and shifts the designer’s role from “problem-solver” to “facilitator.” Both authors argue that positionality and reflexivity are essential in producing ethical, empathetic, and situated research, especially when working across cultural boundaries.
Reflective writing:
After watching the video What is Positionality? (YouTube, 2021), I started to think more deeply about what makes me who I am, and how that influences the way I view the world and carry out research. I used to think reflection just meant thinking about how I feel or what I believe, but this concept pushed me to think critically about the deeper layers, how my identity, upbringing, cultural values, even the spaces I move through all shape the way I approach topics. Bayeck (2022) describes this beautifully by saying that positionality is shaped by “the interplay of space, context, and identity,” and that researchers often carry multiple identities which shift depending on where they are and who they’re with—sometimes even becoming an “in-out-sider” all at onceBayeck 2022 Positionali…. That really made me pause. I’ve never thought about how these different roles I hold: lecturer, technician, Chinese woman, immigrant, married, collide and influence how I work with students or select research topics. Similarly, Schiffer (2020) reflects on her fieldwork in The Gambia and how building trust and critically examining her position as a white woman helped her navigate power dynamics and avoid being a “design saviour”Schiffer 2020 Positiona…. I found her honesty really moving. She writes about embracing vulnerability and letting go of control to become a facilitator rather than a leader—something I think about more and more when working with students from different backgrounds. Both articles encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone and see reflexivity not as a box-ticking exercise, but a continuous, emotional, and even uncomfortable journey that can make my practice more ethical and empathetic.
Reference:
Bayeck, R.Y. (2022) ‘Positionality: The interplay of space, context and identity’, International Journal of Qualitative Methods, 21, pp. 1–9. https://doi.org/10.1177/16094069221131321
Schiffer, A. (2020) ‘Issues of power and representation: Adapting positionality and reflexivity in community-based design’, International Journal of Art & Design Education, 39(3), pp. 418–429. https://doi.org/10.1111/jade.12291
My Process of Understanding the Difference between Positionality and Reflexivity
When I first came across the concepts of positionality and reflexivity, I found them a little confusing. They often appear together, but they actually focus on slightly different (though connected) aspects of how we see the world, and how we act within it. Here’s how I’ve come to understand the difference:
Positionality is about who you are—your background, your cultural and social identity, your upbringing, education, language, gender, race, and everything else that shapes your worldview. It refers to the “position” you occupy in society and in relation to others. For example, I’m standing at a window in a tall building. Positionality is the floor I’m on and the direction your window faces; it determines what you can and can’t see.
It’s not just a label, though. It’s about how that position affects what you notice, what you value, and how you interact with others. For example, I recognise my own positionality as a Chinese woman working in UK higher education, raised in a family that highly values discipline and time management. These parts of my identity shape how I relate to students, colleagues, and the way I teach and research.
Reflexivity goes one step deeper. It’s about being aware of your positionality, and then constantly reflecting on how that shapes your actions, decisions, relationships, and the knowledge you produce. It’s not something you do once and forget. It’s an ongoing process of asking myself questions like:
How does who I am influence how I see others?
Am I unintentionally missing something because of my own cultural assumptions?
Am I placing unfair expectations on others based on my background or values?
Reflexivity is about being open to discomfort, willing to question my biases, and adjusting my approach when needed. It’s not always easy. For example, I’m still standing on the same tall building, and realising that my view is limited, then deciding to move, explore other windows, and listen to what others can see from their floors.
For me, this became really clear when I realised that I used to feel frustrated when some students didn’t turn up to tutorials or didn’t ask for help. I couldn’t relate—because from my own upbringing, time management and self-discipline were core values. But then I started reflecting: not everyone grows up in a context where those things are taught or valued in the same way. That reflection, that shift, is reflexivity. It’s how I started to think about changing how I support my students, and how I approach my teaching more compassionately.
My Positionality vs. My Reflexivity
Aspect
My Positionality
My Reflexivity
Cultural Background
I was raised in a Chinese family that values discipline, organisation, and independence.
I now realise that these values shape how I perceive “responsibility” and “success”—and that not everyone has had the same structure or support.
Gender & Ethnicity
I am a Chinese woman living and working in the UK. My identity is often shaped by stereotypes about being quiet, obedient, or passive.
I reflect on how these assumptions affect how others treat me, and how I sometimes hold back my voice, even when I should speak up.
Educational Experience
I lived independently since I was 16 and learned to manage my studies early.
I used to expect students to do the same. Now I understand that time management is often taught, not innate, and I can offer more guidance and check ins to make sure students have a safe space to speak out their needs.
Professional Role
I work as a lecturer and technician in a Western institution where I’m often both a cultural insider and outsider.
I reflect on how this “in-between” space gives me unique insight—but also comes with emotional labour, especially when trying to support international students.
Biases and Assumptions
I assumed that asking for help or being organised is “normal” and expected.
I now challenge that assumption by asking: What barriers might stop someone from speaking up? How can I create safer, more accessible spaces?
My Positionality Statement
I’m a Chinese woman working and living in the UK, and I’ve come to realise that my background plays a much bigger role in how I teach, communicate, and research than I used to think.
I grew up in a middle-class family; my dad works as a leader in a government agency, and my mum works in the finance bureau. Since I was a teenager, I’ve been expected to be independent, organised, and responsible. I travelled and started living by myself at age 16 in the UK, and from that point on, I learned how to manage my studies, my life, and ask for help when I needed it.
For a long time, I thought that was just “normal.” But now I see that these values—time management, being proactive, speaking up—are actually part of my positionality. Not everyone has the same start in life, and not everyone has been encouraged or taught to do things the way I was. Through learning more about positionality and reflexivity, I’m starting to reflect more deeply on how my personal experiences shape my expectations, especially toward students.
I’ve noticed that when students don’t show up or don’t ask for help, I used to get frustrated. I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t just speak up if they were struggling. But now I ask myself: what’s stopping them? Maybe they come from a background where asking for support feels scary, or maybe they’ve never had anyone check in on them. I realise now that what feels easy for me isn’t necessarily easy for everyone else—and that’s a big shift in how I approach teaching and support. This is especially true when it comes to international students. I’ve been one myself, so I totally get it in some ways—the confusion, the pressure, the feeling of being overwhelmed or unsure whether your questions are even valid. I see how hard it can be to adjust to a new academic culture, express yourself in a second language, or even know where and how to get help. I want to study more about different approaches, both culturally and pedagogically, so I can better understand their struggles and offer more effective, compassionate support.
Being a Chinese woman in a Western university setting also puts me in an interesting space. Sometimes I feel seen, sometimes invisible. There are stereotypes about Chinese or Asian women being passive, quiet, or overly obedient, and I do think these assumptions affect how others treat me, even in subtle ways. At the same time, I have certain privileges: I’m educated, I have work experience, and I’ve learned to adapt across cultures. So I’m trying to use that awareness to create safer and more supportive spaces for my students, especially those who might not feel they belong.
What I’ve learned is that poositionality isn’t fixed. It changes depending on where I am, who I’m with, and how I’m being perceived. And reflexivity means I don’t just think about who I am, I also reflect on how that shapes my actions, and how I might need to shift or rethink things. It’s uncomfortable sometimes, but it’s helping me grow, not just as a teacher or researcher, but as a person.
Crenshaw, K. (1990) Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence against Women of Color. Stanford Law Review 43 (6)
Lukkien, T., Chauhan, T. and Otaye‐Ebede, L. (2024). Addressing the diversity principle–practice gap in Western higher education institutions: A systematic review on intersectionality. British Educational Research Journal.
Summary:
Reading Kimberlé Crenshaw’s (1990) foundational article Mapping the Margins, I was introduced to the concept of intersectionality: a framework that explores how overlapping identities such as race and gender create unique forms of discrimination. Crenshaw focuses on how women of colour, particularly in the context of violence and institutional neglect, are often excluded from both feminist and antiracist discourses.
Similarly, Lukkien et al. (2024) examine how intersectionality plays out in Western higher education, identifying a significant gap between institutions’ stated commitments to diversity and their actual practices. They argue that many diversity policies fail to address the lived realities of individuals with intersecting identities, and offer practical recommendations for more inclusive, system-level change.
Both articles prompted me to reflect on my own position as a Chinese woman in the UK, and the ways intersectionality impacts not only my personal experiences but also my role in supporting students from diverse backgrounds.
Reflective writing:
Reflecting on Intersectionality and My Positionality as a Chinese Woman in the UK
Reading Kimberlé Crenshaw’s work on intersectionality made me reflect deeply on my own identity as a Chinese woman living and working in the UK. While I couldn’t immediately recall specific moments when stereotypes impacted me, I’m certain they have—whether subtly or overtly. As I think more carefully, I realize these experiences are often layered into daily life, making them harder to pinpoint, yet impossible to ignore.
There’s a pervasive stereotype that Asian, particularly Chinese women are submissive, quiet, and less likely to speak up for themselves. I’ve felt that people often assume we’re more agreeable, easier to ask favours from, or less likely to challenge authority. I’ve observed that when similar situations involve white women, others tend to show more caution or emotional sensitivity in their approach. This subtle difference reinforces a kind of social hierarchy, in which Chinese women are perceived to be “beneath” their white peers—not just culturally, but even interpersonally. As Crenshaw (1990, p. 1244) explains, women of colour are often “marginalized within both” feminist and antiracist discourses because of their intersectional identity. This really resonated with me.
These experiences are made more complex by how China is portrayed in Western media. I’ve lost count of the number of times someone’s asked me if I eat dog or cat, or assumed that I lived under 24/7 surveillance with no freedom of speech. It’s honestly exhausting. These aren’t innocent questions—they’re shaped by years of media framing China as this mysterious, oppressive, “othered” place. And when people discover I’m Chinese, it’s like all of that baggage gets projected onto me automatically. It reduces who I am to a political narrative. Crenshaw (1990, p. 1242) talks about how ignoring the differences within groups creates tension among them, this kind of generalisation is exactly that. It doesn’t leave space for my actual experience as an individual.
Thinking about my role as a technician and lecturer, I’ve started seeing how my own background—growing up in a family that valued organisation and independence has shaped the way I handle work. I started living alone at sixteen, so by the time I went to university, I already had experience managing my own schedule and reaching out for help when I needed it. But not all of my students have had the same experience. Some are first-generation university students. Others are juggling jobs, caring responsibilities, or mental health challenges. I used to find it frustrating when they wouldn’t turn up to tutorials or ask for support when falling behind. But now I’m starting to realise: I was seeing it through my lens, not theirs.
This shift in thinking links to what Lukkien et al. (2024, p. 5) describe as the “principle–practice gap” in universities. Institutions often say they value diversity and inclusion, but don’t always make space for people with intersectional identities in a meaningful way. And the problem isn’t just about surface-level representation it’s also about deeper power dynamics. As they put it, one of the reasons institutions struggle to apply intersectionality in practice is because “the heterogeneity of intersectional identities makes it impossible to meet everyone’s needs” (Lukkien et al., 2024, p. 18). But that doesn’t mean we give up—it means we need more thoughtful, flexible approaches.
One thing I’m reflecting on is how to better support students who might not feel comfortable speaking up. I’ve noticed many international students, especially from Asian backgrounds, are very quiet in class. It’s not because they have nothing to say, it’s often because they feel unsure, or the environment doesn’t feel accessible to them. As Lukkien et al. (2024, p. 19) recommend, universities need to think more about “supportive mentoring and allyship structures” that reflect the actual lived experiences of minoritised students. That could mean more check-ins, more encouragement, or just making it easier for them to say when something’s hard.
Crenshaw (1990, p. 1241) reminds us that “many of the experiences… are not subsumed within the traditional boundaries of race or gender discrimination.” That hits home for me. It’s not about choosing one identity over another—it’s about understanding how they work together. And it’s only when we recognise, relate to, and really see someone else’s struggle that we can find real solutions. That applies not just to institutions, but also to me, as someone who works with and supports students every day.
Reference:
Crenshaw, K. (1990) ‘Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color’, Stanford Law Review, 43(6), pp. 1241–1299.
Lukkien, T., Chauhan, T. and Otaye-Ebede, L. (2024) ‘Addressing the diversity principle–practice gap in Western higher education institutions: A systematic review on intersectionality’, British Educational Research Journal, [online] Available at: https://doi.org/10.1002/berj.4096 [Accessed 11 Apr. 2025].
Workshop 3A: Reading Activity: Assessment and Feedback
‘Could do Better?’: students’ critique of written feedback by Kate Brooks Institution: University of the West of England, Bristol
Summary:
This article explores students’ experiences with summative written feedback in the Humanities, particularly at the University of the West of England. Brooks highlights a fundamental mismatch between students’ expectations and tutors’ perceptions of feedback. While students frequently express a desire for “more feedback,” research suggests they often struggle to use it effectively. The article critiques the current assessment and feedback structures and suggests that students need encouragement to engage more deeply in their learning journeys rather than simply receiving more feedback.
Brook’s study identifies 3 dominant themes in students’ critiques of feedback:
Content of the feedback
The feedback exchange (How feedback is given)
The role of one-to-one tutorial
Potential Solutions and Reflections
Brooks suggests that the current feedback system inadvertently encourages superficial engagement with learning. Some ways to address this include:
Incorporating peer review: Inspired by Art and Design disciplines, where students critique each other’s work, fostering a sense of shared learning.
Reframing feedback as an ongoing dialogue rather than a final judgment: Providing more opportunities for students to ask questions and clarify feedback.
Encouraging students to take ownership of their learning: Rather than just “delivering” feedback, tutors should guide students in reflecting on their work.
Why I Chose This Article?
I wanted to understand how students respond to feedback, even though this study focuses on Humanities rather than Art and Design. I assumed there would be common themes across disciplines, particularly regarding students’ reflections on feedback.
I run 1-to-1 support sessions where students can book an hour to work on their specific issues or projects. Many students bring in their tutors’ feedback, expressing confusion about what it actually means.
One common frustration students share in my one-to-one sessions is the vagueness of feedback, they struggle to understand what is expected of them and how to improve their work. Brooks (2008) captures this frustration well: “Sometimes you get a vague handwritten comment like ‘expand on this’ – well, what does that mean? If I knew, I would have done! Identifying the problems isn’t the same as helping you solve them.” (p. 2). This highlights a key issue: feedback needs to be more than just identifying gaps—it should provide clear, actionable guidance that helps students develop their work.
Moving forward, I want to refine how I provide feedback in my own teaching, ensuring that it is structured, constructive, and helps students engage in meaningful reflection.
Regardless of how many issues they have in their work, the purpose of teaching and learning should be to inspire students, guide them in the right direction, and encourage problem-solving and critical thinking. However, to do this effectively, we need to show them how to approach improvement, rather than just pointing out what’s wrong.
What I Found Interesting?
Since this article was written in 2008, some of the concerns may no longer be relevant. For example, handwritten feedback is no longer an issue at UAL, as feedback is now entirely digital. Also, feedback isn’t given in front of everyone anymore—students view their grades and comments privately on the Portal.
However, what really interests me is the emotional impact of feedback. I strongly believe that building a positive connection with students plays a huge role in their learning experience. Feedback isn’t just about improving technical skills—it also shapes motivation, confidence, and engagement. I’d love to explore this further and understand how fostering positive tutor-student relationships can enhance learning outcomes.
Another key area I want to develop is peer review. Research suggests that peer-to-peer feedback helps students improve their learning experience, reinforce their knowledge, and Be more reflective and engaged in their work (Reference see Case study 2). This is something I plan to implement in my own practice.
What Actions This Has Inspired?
I’m not part of the course assessment team, so I don’t have experience in giving summative feedback for assessments. However, I provide 1-to-1 support sessions for students in Adobe software, CLO3D, and portfolio reviews. What I want to focus on now is how to refine my feedback approach within these sessions. Instead of just offering solutions, I want to help students engage with feedback in a more meaningful way, encouraging self-reflection and problem-solving skills.
Some things I’d like to explore further:
How to make 1-to-1 feedback more structured and actionable,
How to balance emotional support with constructive critique
How to integrate peer review into my teaching practice.
This article has helped me reflect on my current approach and identify areas where I can improve to better support my students. Below is the reading list that I would like to look into further:
Mitigating emotional barriers to feedback encounters and dialogue (in law schools) Authors:Fae Garland and Luke D. Graham Summary: This article develops a typology categorizing how negative emotions can act as barriers to effective feedback dialogues. It offers strategies for educators to recognize and mitigate these emotional barriers, fostering a more constructive feedback environment. Link
Developing Students’ Ability to Construct Feedback” Authors: Dr. David Nicol and colleagues at the University of Glasgow Summary: This paper explores methods to enhance students’ skills in both giving and receiving feedback. It emphasizes the importance of self and peer assessment in fostering a deeper understanding of quality work and promoting self-regulated learning. Link
Reference:
Kate Brooks (2008) ‘“Could do Better?”: students’ critique of written feedback’, Art/Design/Media Subject Centre [PDF].
