Editing My Work, Not Myself by Madeleine

Editing My Work, Not Myself by Madeleine - August 2026 Scholarship Essay

Growing up, I had always viewed feedback as an attack. I had failed to realize that feedback was supposed to help me grow because I found it difficult to understand that a critique of my work was not a critique of me. Thankfully, as I’ve grown up and gone through high school, I’ve started to change that mindset. That shift became prevalent to me during my junior year when I worked for the school’s Boys Basketball team to create content for them.

Near the end of my contract, my film teacher, who occasionally oversaw our work, called me and a teammate to his desk. In a calm, but direct way he had told us the content we were producing reflected minimum effort and did not uphold the standard that paid work should. Though his delivery was respectful, his words were difficult to hear. I had invested hours into each edit, creating transitions, adjusting pacing, and rewatching clips until they reached a standard I was genuinely proud of. As I sat back at my desk and rewatched the edits I had made, I searched for evidence that would validate my confidence rather than confirm his critique. His feedback felt less like an evaluation of my work and more like an attack on my competence. The part that stung the most was that I respected his viewpoint, a lot.

However, after allowing myself to calm down and process my initial frustration, I was able to see the situation as a way to learn. After class I asked him for specific feedback. As he reviewed my work more closely, his position shifted. He admitted the quality of my reels was higher than he’d realized, but he still pointed out specific areas of improvement: camera angles, color grading, and more special effects.

Then came the next problem, I had no more games left in my contract for the boys team. However, I remembered that my teacher had mentioned he had a connection with the girls’ basketball team. I knew I would not be content with letting his advice sit in my notes app without any form of action; so, I asked him to help me reach out. The girls’ coach was on board and wanted me to shoot their next game.

This time, I came more prepared with different lenses and a game plan for where I would stand on the court to get the best shots. I researched what professional videographors did through platforms like TikTok and Youtube which taught me the importance of capturing a players’ face right after they score. Throughout the game I constantly referred back to the notes I had obtained, determined to make a reel that was truly good, not just good enough.

In the end, the reel I created became one of the strongest works I had produced. As I watched it back, I felt a different sense of pride than I did before. I wasn’t just proud of what I had created but also of me and my ability to move past the discomfort that my teacher’s criticism had brought me and use it as fuel for genuine improvement and growth in my craft.

Looking back now, I understand that the anger I had felt that day wasn’t about my film teacher doubting my ability. Rather, it was about me confusing my work for myself. Though my works are an extension of me, feedback on them is not an attack on me. Criticism, even when it's hard to hear, is something I should take seriously but not personal. My dedication to improving my craft, rather than being defensive, propelled me into one of my proudest creative accomplishments and for that reason I will always be happy to accept feedback.