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Showing posts with label Pushback - dealing with. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pushback - dealing with. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Preparing Students to Receive Critiques from Others

We've had some good discussions on this blog about the art, science and challenges of critiquing students.  (Link to those discussions here.)  We've focused on critiquing theory, instructor preparation, best practices, dealing with "pushback" and other related topics.  Most of the blog posts and comments focus on what qualities instructors can develop to enhance the quality of critiques and maximize learning opportunities: preparation, understanding, flexibility, respect, firmness, competence, to name just a few.  With sufficient preparation, practice and experience, we can establish and maintain conditions for successful, controlled, harmonious critiquing experiences--for the most part.

But what about those situations when our students will be critiqued by outsiders--people who aren't a formal part of our programs--such as judges, volunteer jurors from the community, guest instructors, or trial competition judges?  Student feedback from a recent trial competition reminded me that we need to prepare students and establish expectations for these critiquing experiences as well.

Let me share a horror story with you.  It's a true story.  Names have been omitted to protect the guilty.  I think I've recovered sufficiently from it to be able to discuss it calmly.  The situation: the final jury trial for my advanced trial advocacy class.  To make it as realistic as possible, I brought in a jury of volunteers from the community.  A federal district court judge presided over the trial.  The students had negotiated a pretrial order, created their own jury instructions, argued motions in limine; in short, had done nearly everything I could think of to make the trial as realistic as possible.

The trial was also realistic in the way it played out.  One pair of advocates--the defendants--had prepared for the trial, using the rules of evidence and procedure as shields and/or swords to advance their own case theory and obstruct the progress of their opponents.  The plaintiffs, in contrast, had blithely assumed that anything in the case file would be admissible and that all possible issues had been resolved in the two motions they had argued before the judge.  The plaintiffs did not even bring a copy of the federal rules of evidence with them to trial.  On top of that, as a partnership, their knowledge of evidence was unusually poor; I doubt they understood, for instance, the difference between hearsay and authentication.  Given these two approaches to trial preparation, the defendants--predictably--mauled the plaintiffs.  It wasn't even close.  Key pieces of the plaintiff's evidence were excluded, and the defense managed to admit nearly every questionable statement or exhibit into evidence.  

While the jury was deliberating, the judge--experienced in diplomatically critiquing law students as well as lawyers--gently pointed out to the plaintiffs that they had made several key errors in the trial.  The plaintiffs, perhaps delusionally hoping the verdict would still go their way, appeared to listen politely.

A few minutes later, the jury returned with a verdict for the defendant.  Pursuant to my normal custom for that class, I then asked the jury if they would like to provide comments and constructive critiques to the attorneys.  Before I could step in, a juror commented, to the accompaniment of agreeably nodding heads by the other jurors, as follows: "The plaintiffs looked like they didn't know what they were doing.  Every time the other guys objected, they got confused. They seemed to lose their cool. They never objected, even when the judge was looking at them like they should."  Then, making the comments even more pointed, while trying to soften their impact, he changed from the third-person to the second-person: "Maybe you aren't as experienced as the defendants, I don't know, but they ran circles around you in the courtroom.  I think you guys can definitely get better, though, and you have a lot of potential."  Not the most diplomatic or sensitive critique, but it was accurate.

Then came the response.  One of the plaintiff attorneys had reached her limit.  She stood up, wagging her finger at the jury, and explained that the other side had ambushed them and had cheated, the judge had made it impossible for them to try the case they had prepared, the jurors were obviously gender-biased (in this case the plaintiff attorneys were both women and the defendant attorneys were both men), and finally, as if my own personal embarrassment at this train wreck were not enough, she blamed it all on me as the wagging finger turned in my direction: "And what you guys don't know about the objections is, BEHAN [author's note: her tone of voice suggested my name might have been a synonym for a loathsome disease of some kind] TOLD US WE WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO OBJECT IN THE COURTROOM.  OTHERWISE WE WOULD HAVE!!!  DO YOU THINK WE DIDN'T KNOW OUR OPPONENTS WERE CHEATING ON OBJECTIONS?  WE FOLLOWED THE RULES.  WE LISTENED TO BEHAN.  THAT'S THE MAIN THING WE DID WRONG."  

For the record, I said no such thing as "never object in the courtroom," although I have regularly advised students not to make pointless objections simply for the sake of making them.

I hope no one else has had a similar experience, but my intuition tells me I cannot possibly have been the only person to watch a student blow up in response to a third-party critique.  This is, after all the generation that grew up receiving praise for everything: participation ribbons, soccer games with no score kept and treats at the end for everyone, helicopter parents hovering and dispensing constant affirmations and self-esteem boosts.  They often equate effort with excellence, not realizing that it is possible to try very hard and fail, or to prepare and fall short.

When they are being critiqued by outsiders to the program, people who haven't been trained in critiquing and might know nothing at all about advocacy or trials, the possibility for unfortunate personal interactions is high.  The danger is heightened, I think, at competitions or events (such as final trials) in which they have invested significant preparation time.  I've noticed, for example, that the main criteria for some competition judges is availability, not competence or trial experience.  Recently, some of my students in a trial competition had the disheartening experience of being critiqued by a group of lawyers, none of whom (as we later learned at the reception) had ever actually tried a case.  Given their experience level, their comments were about as useful as one might expect.

So--how to prepare students to be critiqued by others?  I have a few ideas of my own that I'll share, but I'm hoping a few blog readers will provide comments.

First, it's important to explain what is about to happen, namely, that someone else with a different style, different viewpoint and different training is going to provide comments on their performance.  They need to understand that the critiquing parties may not follow the NITA 4-step method (Headnote, Playback, Prescription, Rationale), the Stetson 3-step (What, Why, How) or even your own personal classroom style.

Second, they should watch, if possible, the classic Christopher Walken Saturday Night Live sketch, More Cowbell.  Everyone they meet should be, to them, the great Bruce Dickinson, and if Bruce Dickinson wants more cowbell, then they'd better give him more cowbell!  Seriously, I use this sketch at the beginning of the semester in my trial advocacy course.  I teach a weekly lecture, and we have several adjuncts who teach the practice labs.  I feel it's absolutely important for my students to understand, appreciate and follow their expertise.  And this applies to outsiders such as judges or jurors.  They are all experts in observing other people and making decisions.

Third, they need to understand that a critique is a one-way conversation in which they listen while someone else talks.  Protests, arguments and explanations should be kept to themselves.  Perhaps in private conversations with the critiquing party afterwards, they can discuss the issue, but while being critiqued, they need to listen and be in receive mode.  

Fourth, it's just a critique!  If they don't like the advice they're receiving, they are free to ignore it or do something completely different.  Even if the advice is good.

Fifth, focus on the opportunity.  Nearly every critique contains something that a humble advocate can take away and use for the future, even if it hurts to hear it at the time.  We've all heard painful critiques in our lives, and as part of preparing our students to receive outside critiques, it's appropriate to share these stories.

One other thing: when I have the opportunity to exert some control over the critiquing process, I do.  I remind jurors and judges that these are student learners, and I request that their comments be constructive and respectful.  I ask focused questions, such as, "Tell me the most effective thing the plaintiffs did" or "What was the single biggest factor that caused you to vote for the defense in this case?"  It isn't always possible to do this, of course, but it does help set the conditions for a better critiquing experience for the students.

So--what are your thoughts on preparing students for outside critiques?  Any good horror stories?  Please share by clicking on the link below and commenting on this blog post.


Friday, December 31, 2010

Reaching for the Tingle....

Dear Friends:

I have been thinking a lot lately about what really exists at the core of my approach to teaching advocacy. Why do I do the things that I do? I must confess that the approaches that I love the most are the ones that stray far afield from accepted practices, but I console myself with the belief that they are grounded in other fields from which all advocacy professors might want to learn. I am always questing for something more. Like all of us I can nail the NITA critique in my sleep, but I have done that more than once and felt that I let the person I was trying to teach down – I had not gone far enough into the darkness with them to help them see the light. I have come to believe as a core value that if the student is brave enough to try then I should be brave enough to teach them, using whatever method is necessary in that moment to make a difference for the student.

When I first started teaching it was with other attorneys that worked for me. I was always focused on the end result – the trial. The personal dynamics between the client, the witnesses, the advocate and the judge were always fascinating and we worked hard to find the message that would prevail for that specific set of circumstances. From time to time we would do the obligatory NITA style training, but almost as an afterthought.

Over time I turned to fundamentals as a way to create a baseline level of competency, and I still love advocacy fundamentals as the starting point for everything I teach. I even titled my trial advocacy text “Fundamental Trial Advocacy,” and I firmly believe that some of our skills should be automatic. A good critique on something as simple as word choice, body position, filler words, pauses, or any of the other “bread and butter” teaching points is always time well spent – but it rarely makes me tingle. I reach for the tingle whenever I can – do you?

What do I mean by reaching for the tingle? The tingle is when the student has a breakthrough. That breakthrough can be skill performance specific, a deeper level of personal understanding, or a connection with the other participants. These teaching moments come when you see that the student has an issue, but you know that the fix for that problem is going to require you to trust the student, possibly embarrass yourself, and risk failing in front of a group of students to whom you have been identified as an expert in the field. Do you reach? Do you grasp for that moment? Or do you turn away into the safety of something else?

I think the students know when we go out on that limb with them. I believe at an internal level they appreciate it when we expose ourselves to failure, to ridicule, to judgment – just as they feel exposed in that moment. That is a gift that the teacher has the power to give to the student - and it gives them power in a place where they feel powerless. I like to think of it as a student centered approach, and it reflects some accepted paradigms of adult experiential learning. They become responsible for their own learning. Let me share how I go about it.

I usually start by asking the student how that felt, not how they think they did. I like to begin with reflection by the student because it helps me see where they are in their growth. Different students will focus on different things. How they focus, what they focus on, and the way they choose to share it all present opportunities to help me identify the right teaching moment. I build outward from the things that they share with me because that often identifies the “thing” that needs to be addressed. I combine this with the observations that I have made about that student over the course of the program. There are many different opportunities to get to know these students, each of them are moments that provide me with information that becomes crucial when it is time to reach them.

I want to get them into the moment of the performance so that together we can identify what canbe encouraged to grow, what should perhaps be pruned back to a reasonable level, or sometimes completely weeded out. I rarely ask the student how they think that went because they are usually hypercritical or simply blow the answer off. I want to know what they were feeling when they did it, physically, emotionally, mentally.

After they tell me I ask them if they will give me permission to help. Once they give it, and they always do, I ask them again how they are feeling – starting with their current physical state. This is the point where they begin to become responsible for what they are about to discover. Sometimes I get push back. When that happens I have them take a deep breath, close their eyes and picture what just happened. I then ask them to share the physical sensations they were experiencing while they performed. I focus them on action verbs, clear descriptions – the same word choice issues that we teach on direct examination. I then build my next question off their response. They are often very quick to identify what is bothering them, and it opens to the door to my advice. We begin to work together to solve their problem in a way that they accept and can implement. This creates a short back and forth that is really a shared conversation. It is also a sharing of the spirit, an acceptance of our shortcomings and recognition of the trust that we are placing in one another as teacher and student.

These become transformational moments in the life of the student – if they are ready for the transformation. Remember those moments in the courtroom when everything slows down, the words flow and you hold the jury, or the witness in the palm of your hand? Remember that feeling that you had when everyone in the room knew at a primal level that something very important had just happened in court? You can have that same feeling when teaching – all you have to do is reach for the tingle.

Enjoy!

Charlie

Monday, August 30, 2010

Dealing with Pushback

Related to last week's topic of critiquing, I'd like to address the closely related topic of "pushback," when a student disagrees with a critique and actively resists the process. In every CLE-type advocacy course I've taught--especially the shorter courses--the faculty experience pushback. Oftentimes, one or two students seem to present problems for multiple faculty members.

The phenomenon seems to occur much less frequently in a law school environment, where students tend to treat their professors with deference. This is not to say it doesn't occur from time to time, merely that it doesn't occur as often.

I believe there are multiple causes for pushback. Some are related to the student, others to the instructor, and still others to the critiquing method or specific advice being given. Some students, for instance, push back because of the ego threat presented by an advocacy critique. Others may find the critiquing methodology objectionable. Some may disagree with the point the instructor is making, the suggested fix, or the rationale given for it. In some environments, my guess is that the student may question the instructor's qualifications or legitimacy and push back for those reasons. Inevitably there are personality conflicts.

A maxim I try to keep in mind with pushback situations is a saying from Stephen R. Covey: seek first to understand, then to be understood. I think this ties in to some of the comments that Charlie Rose and Tom Stewart made. We have to remember that we are looking for teachable moments, and we also have to assess and treat each student as an individual. My guess is that when students are included in the feedback loop--as in the coaching example Charlie gave--pushback is considerably diminished. I've discovered that in several of the pushback situations I've been involved in, a little bit of understanding can go a long way, as in, "I understand what you're trying to do. Let's work on rephrasing the question to accomplish that." Diplomacy and tact are also important.

Another way to help with pushback--especially in CLE situations--is to have multiple instructors in the room. On more than one occasion, I've felt grateful to have a colleague ride to my rescue, affirm the point I've just made, and tactfully move on to another point. I'd like to think I've done the same for some of my teaching partners as well.

I haven't always managed pushback well. I can think of some times where I wish I'd been smart enough or experienced enough to think of something different that might have made for a better teaching and learning experience.