Embracing Wrong Answers

We elementary teachers tend to share one peculiar bad habit: We never flatly tell our students that an answer is wrong.

Even if a child says that 2 + 2 = 5, we tend to say wishy-washy things like, “Close, Johnny,” or “That’s an interesting idea, Beth.”

Maybe we do it out of pity: we really feel bad for the child and we want to help her save face.  But our response has the opposite effect — it actually makes the child appear more pathetic!  Not only did that student get the question wrong, but we have to come up with a babyish response to assuage her grief.

Sometimes the best response is to ask a question, as in “How did you get that answer?”  In so doing, you may be able to find the root cause of the error by allowing the child to explain his or her thinking, and that can be helpful in fixing the problem.

But at other times, an answer is just plain wrong, and there’s no need to inquire further about it.  Instead of trying to gloss over the wrong answer with a “good try” or a “OK, but let’s see what Amy thinks,” I offer the following suggestions:

1.  When an answer is wrong, plainly say so.

2.  When that same child raises his/her hand again, lavishly praise the effort and resiliency of the child for being brave enough to try again. (Use this sparingly, of course, or it will lose its impact.)  Call on that child again if you think there’s a good chance his/her answer will be correct this time.

3.  If a wrong answer is given that clearly has some good thinking behind it, lavishly praise it as a “great wrong answer” — again, you’re still being blatantly honest that the answer is wrong, but you’re honoring the attempt.

4.  Remind the students that wrong answers are expected and that students who never get anything wrong are clearly not being challenged enough.

I cannot even fully describe the massive difference these steps have made in my class.  When I used to dance around wrong answers, I would mumble something like, “Ummm… that’s a good answer, Nick, but let’s have someone else try…” and Nick ended up feeling patronized.  Now, I ham it up the other way, and tell Nick, “No way!” and act all giddy to have stumped him.  He then takes my giddiness as a challenge, comes back full-force with another attempt, and is praised for that effort.

Obviously, there are students with whom you’d need to be careful when employing this method, but I’d suggest adding it to your repertoire.