What Authentic Struggle Teaches Us

Even though it’s been over 25 years, I vividly remember working on my master’s thesis project, which examined the role of L2 language acquisition through independent reading. I reviewed previous literature, read hundreds of articles, learned everything I could about the topic, and conducted original research to further the collective understanding and its implications for language pedagogy.

I was fortunate to have the mentorship of phenomenal professors, with whom I met frequently, to review the findings and progress. They were generous with suggestions, and with their guidance, I felt as if I had created something of which I could be proud. And I was very excited to drop off the “final” work to Dr. Alan Meredith, my committee chair, one Friday afternoon in February.

He knew the work, as he had read every page and reviewed all of the statistics with me. That afternoon, he looked at me and said, “Is this the best you can do? Are you proud of what you’ve done?” I enthusiastically replied yes to both.

I lived over an hour away from the university. You can imagine my surprise when he showed up at my house the next night at around 8 p.m. He said that he had finished reading my final version, and he had some suggestions he wanted to drop off for me to review.

I opened the manuscript. Every page was covered with red ink. Questions. Suggestions. Corrections. Ideas.

He challenged ideas and assumptions and frequently asked me to make things clearer or more connected. I remember the pit in my stomach — it was as if I needed to completely start the race over, right before crossing the finish line. He didn’t even stay to discuss. He simply handed me his ideas, saying that I might want to take a look at them.

I spent the next month reviewing, answering questions, and honing my writing. It was one of the best learning periods of my life, because I had the gift of being able to truly examine every single sentence of the work to make sure it was right. When it came time to present to the graduate committee, I was able to answer each question with confidence and tangible evidence.

We live in a world where the acquisition of knowledge is changing at dizzyingly fast rates. We have access to tools, including artificial intelligence, which can do what used to require days or weeks in a matter of minutes.

It can create custom visuals, synthesize data, create study guides, offer suggestions for improvement, and even write code that can solve complex problems, creating time for us to do more meaningful work.

But it will never replace the value of authentic struggle, or the thrill of working with something that seems impossible until finally cracking the code.

But [AI] will never replace the value of authentic struggle, or the thrill of working with something that seems impossible until finally cracking the code.

A colleague recently shared the following question as we were discussing this: “At what point did that cease to become your work and become the work of someone or something else?”

I’ve thought about that in the context of Dr. Meredith. He didn’t fix my paper; he challenged it. He filled it with questions, so I had to do the hard work of reflecting, thinking, and processing to truly own the material.

But he let me own both the struggle and the process. And I will forever be grateful to him for helping me see that. I see similar interactions every day as I walk the halls and visit classrooms at Seven Hills. What an amazing privilege.