“I don’t want to.”
“Hey Nick! Are you ready for baseball practice? We need to go in 30 minutes,” I holler from downstairs. “Mom, I’m in the middle of my game. I have plenty of time!” he responds, muffled through the closed door. I feel my blood begin to boil.
“I don’t want to do this anymore. This is a boring bunch of old stuff,” I hear Jamie say. We’re in the middle of observing artifacts during a lesson in social studies. My face flushes, knowing I spent 3 hours bringing this lesson to life with museum relics.
As a parent and an educator, I am familiar with both responses. You may be familiar with kids like Nick and Jamie. Both struggle with motivation.
With Nick, it's not that baseball itself isn’t something he wants to do. He LOVES baseball. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to plan his time. Trust me…if his girlfriend calls, he will be ready on a dime and ask me to hurry up from the passenger seat of the car. He doesn’t see the importance of planning and prep.
Similarly, Jamie doesn’t see the purpose of what she’s learning and why it’s important to her right now. It’s not because the material is dry, and it’s not because I didn’t make the lesson clear to her.
I can create a chart for Nick and reward him for being on time, but what happens when I stop the reward? Maybe he’s built the habit of preparing himself independently in (my) time frame by then, but I’ve spent a lot of time and effort (and probably money). Usually not.
Similarly, I can remind Jamie this is a grade, hoping that extrinsic piece gets her to engage, but will she be learning or simply completing the task?
Extrinsic is giving them a purpose to cooperate and comply, not an authentic purpose in the work for its own sake. They aren’t connecting why their effort is purposeful and meaningful. When they dig deep and find significance in the process, they’ll ignite that internal motivation.
That inner drive is actually not something I can tell them, give, or incentivize. They have to find reasons for themselves. My job is to create space for them to wrestle to find that purpose.
How do we create space?
With Nick, instead of my gut feeling to pull out the equipment and prep his water jug for him, I might reframe the situation by saying, “I know you are enjoying the game, and I know being on time with your things matters to you and your team too. What’s your plan exactly to make sure you are ready?” I’m helping – differently. I’m giving him context and offering a wider perspective. Showing that he’s connected to others who are counting on him and reminding him of how that’s important to him will reframe the task. I’m not in a power struggle, I am nudging him to do something that aligns with what he values. I’m showing through my words that he’s not doing it because he has to, he’s doing it because it’s important to him.
Instead of telling Jamie why these artifacts are relevant, I can turn to her and start by validating her feelings. Again, I am supporting - differently. “I hear that you’re not finding this exciting. That’s ok.” This connects us and isn’t causing her to be defensive. No power struggle. I can continue with, “I see you’ve got some notes on this piece. What did you find interesting? How do you see these artifacts influenced the people and events we’re studying?” The second part asks her to engage and look with curiosity. That action puts her in the driver’s seat of her learning. I’m not letting her off the hook, I am reframing so she takes an active stance rather than passively wanting learning to “keep” her engaged.
Instead of changing the task they have to complete, we’re creating context for each kid to see the value in progressing, growing, and yes, completing. We’re setting the stage for them to see themselves as the starring roles of a script they write rather than simply reading lines.
Shifting how we respond in their moments of disengaging. That’s our tool. It will take time. Be patient. But the payoff will be their long-term success.
