Spontaneous Praise
By Susan Mandel Glazer

When I hear teachers, parents or anyone who is in charge of children use the phrases, "Good job!," "It's really easy!," "This isn't so difficult!" or "Come on, you can do it!," I cringe. What do these phrases mean? I've asked many teachers over the years and received similar responses from all of them. For some, "Good job!" means, "You're trying, keep going, you're on your way," "This time is better than your last try," "Your work is okay but not good enough, yet," "Compared to the rest of the class, you're about in the middle." Most feel that providing this quasi-compliment encourages the child to continue to try to be enthusiastic about what he or she is doing and to feel good about himself or herself as a learner.

Hidden meanings
I've also asked children what they believe the phrase "Good job!" means. Five-year-old Samantha replied, "She thinks I'm really smart." Eight-year-old Jason said, "It means that she doesn't want to tell me the truth, so she says "Good job," but I can hear in her voice that it's not so good." Eleven-year-old Sam told me, "Oh, she always uses that phrase as a way to not let me know what she is really thinking." The older the child, the more skeptical they were about this frequently used phrase.

Not so easy
"My teacher says, 'It's really easy!,'" remarked nine-year-old Kahila, "when he thinks I'm not trying hard enough." Eleven-year-old Elon commented, "My teacher says that because he knows that I'm not as smart as the other kids and he thinks that makes me feel better. But it doesn't. It makes me feel stupider!" Elon's reaction to this phrase is something that I might say in response to another's opinion concerning my ability to solve a problem. He blurted, "For her it's easy, but she forgets that I'm not her and I hate to do multiplication anyway!" Josh's response was simple: "She's just like my mom. She thinks because it's easy for her it's supposed to be easy for me, too!"

Experiencing difficulty
One graduate student of mine said when a teacher used the phrase, "This isn't so difficult!," she felt she was being made fun of. "I wanted to say, 'It may not be difficult for you, but can you play Chopin's Minute Waltz in less than a minute?' I can!" she said.

"No, I can't do it!" exclaimed a determined 14-year-old in response to the directive, "Come on, you can do it! "Everyone always tells me that, and it makes me want to tell them to leave me alone. Even if I could do it, I'd tell them that I couldn't. Why does my mom think that I can do that homework when I know that I will have trouble with it?"

What's my point?
Our days are hectic. We are pulled from one child's needs to another's and from one out-of-classroom responsibility to the next. Our fastidiousness about lesson plans, parent meetings, classroom upkeep and more consumes our days. Thinking about how we use language is not usually part of our activities. We take the language we use for granted. But it's our responsibility to nurture children's appetites for learning using language that lures them into academic endeavors. These aforementioned phrases do not lure, they obscure. They are vague and ambiguous and steer children away rather than toward successful attempts.

Specificity is a necessity when delivering praise. It guides learners to repeat the mentioned activities. Naming the fitting answer provides a label permitting a youngster to categorize actions. Verbally detailing accomplishments allows other children to listen to what is appropriate and necessary to solve problems. They will, in turn, copy and repeat the deeds in order to receive the accolades.

Impulsive ideas
I often hear adults say to children, "Don't copy his work. Think on your own." I find this spontaneous directive difficult to follow. We need input from others to originate thoughts. This happens because each of us borrows bits and pieces of the impulsive ideas of others. The ideas are rearranged by each recipient to fit the specific personalities, problem-solving procedures and needs. The end result is unique to each child and adult.

However, if any of us expect children to accommodate our ideas, the language we use must be specific to each endeavor. For example, "Good job, Jason. You got at least five books about your research topic. You will probably be able to find just enough information to begin writing your science report!"

Susan Mandel Glazer is the Director of the Center for Reading and Writing at Rider University in Lawrenceville, NJ.

April, 2007, Vol.37, No.7