Candy Is Not Content
When I was in elementary school, the common reward for giving a correct answer in class was a Jolly Rancher. As I got older, my teachers would resort to more complicated methods of motivation, like giving us points for good behavior or correct answers to verbal questions. When enough points were accrued, we would get a pizza party or a “fun day” when we didn’t do any academic work at school.
On the surface, these motivational techniques appeared to be successful because they would get children to raise their hands and answer questions. However, in reality, these motivational methods send an unintended message to students: “Look, kid, you and I both know that you just have to get through this. Here’s some candy to make it worth your while.”
Real classroom motivation doesn’t require sweet treats to make learning worth it. Real motivation inspires a child to be interested in what they’re doing because it brings them pleasure, or because they can see how what they’re learning is important to their real lives. Cheap motivational tricks like candy or parties are obvious ploys to get students excited…but about what? History or science? No. They’re excited about candy.
In my literature classes, you will not find anything that jumps out at you as an obvious motivational tactic. I don’t hand out stickers or candies, and I don’t throw parties or show movies. My methods of motivation are subtle, but they are effective.
First, I ensure that the books and stories I teach are worth my students’ time. I spend a lot of time every summer reading books and honing my reading lists for each class. Every year of their literature education, my students read seven or eight great novels about thrilling adventures, tough choices, hard times, and great triumphs. These novels hold their attention because they are fantastic in their own right.
In 2nd grade, we read The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo. I had a student who was not a strong reader, so she was not very interested in my class at first. Imagine my surprise when, after I read the final chapter aloud to her class, she walked up to the front of the classroom with tears in her eyes, hugged me, and said “Thank you.” She went on to make incredible strides in my class that year. Now, she is in 6th grade, and is one of the most passionate readers at our school.
Truly great stories are motivating on their own.
My second motivational tool is that I assign work which is based on what the child is supposed to grasp first, second, and third, allowing the child to slowly and methodically build an understanding of each novel we read, and train them in the processes of thought required to meaningfully engage with literature. By approaching literature using this sort of methodical hierarchy, students learn not only what each book has to teach them, but also how to appreciate novels on their own.
After reading several books with me in 4th grade literature, a new transfer student once approached me to tell me about a book she was reading at home that she was enjoying a lot. She went on to tell me that she hadn’t been so interested in reading on her own before, but that after reading Dragon: Hound of Honor and The Indian in the Cupboard, she realized that reading could be exciting and that she could find that same enjoyment from class on her own using the skills she learned from me. Using the techniques I taught her in class of slow, patient reading and careful thought, she now regularly enjoys reading books on her own.
And, finally, the aspect of my classroom motivation that is the least obvious: my rapport with students. By taking the time to build close, individual relationships with each of my students based in mutual respect and reverence for what we are trying to do together in the classroom, the students become motivated to understand why I place so much value in understanding literature. When I tell them that we are about to start reading one of my absolute favorite books, their eyes light up with curiosity and excitement. This is because, over time, they have come to see me not only as someone that they like, but someone that they trust to lead them by the hand into beautiful works of art and fulfilling work.
I could write a separate post on each of these principles (and perhaps I will), but for now I am setting out to make the point that candy (you could also substitute “candy” in this sentence for “points,” “parties,” or “Fun Fridays”) does not motivate children to learn. Candy motivates children to want candy. Learning motivates children to learn, but only if the content is well-curated to their age and ability, the work is presented hierarchically, and if the teacher forms a relationship with a basis of respect with each of their students.
Special thanks to Lisa VanDamme, who has taught me everything I know about motivation in the classroom.