by Kristin Conradi Smith, William & Mary 
Teachers have always known that motivation matters. When students want to do the work, learning happens; when they don’t, our jobs become far more difficult.
In our efforts to motivate students to engage in reading instruction–– particularly in middle and high school–– we’ve often responded by trying to make reading feel easier. If we just offer them more choices or if we simplify (or read aloud) the text, then they’ll be more likely to stay engaged. These instincts are rooted in good intentions—we want our students to read the book and do the work. But over time, I’ve begun to wonder whether our efforts might also be unintentionally undermining our students’ opportunities for success.
I began studying motivation in graduate school because it was a topic that mattered a lot to me as a teacher but didn’t seem very popular among researchers. We were still in the first decade following the National Reading Panel Report and No Child Left Behind and discussions revolved around scientifically based reading research, outcomes, and the “five pillars.” Motivation, it seemed, was dismissed as fluff. (One of my professors outright told me that, noting she’d wished I’d chosen a more “consequential” topic instead!)
In the fifteen years since I defended my dissertation, a growing body of research has helped shape how we think about motivation in the classroom. Much of this work confirms what teachers have long observed: adolescents are motivated to read more when texts are interesting and relevant. In addition, adolescents are motivated when we make reading social and provide authentic audiences for their work. When I work with middle and high school teachers, these ideas rarely surprise them; most nod in recognition because they see them play out daily.
And yet, despite this shared understanding, motivation is still often treated as something separate from instruction. Something we consider after lessons are planned, rather than something that shapes instructional decisions from the start.
This perspective reframes some of our well-intentioned efforts to increase engagement. When students struggle, for example, our instinct is often to lessen that struggle… While these practices might have a place in some situations, they unintentionally lower the bar.
In this “science of reading” era, we find ourselves once again in another important moment in literacy education. Conversations rightly center around improving instruction and ensuring that our practices are grounded in evidence. That focus is, of course, necessary. But as attention has turned toward what and how we teach, motivation seems once again to be an afterthought, despite the decades of research we. have. We worry about motivation when students seem disengaged, rather than using it as a framework to guide our instruction altogether.
Last year, my colleagues and I wrote an article about this.1 We draw on a framework that has long helped clarify my thinking about motivation and learning: expectancy value theory (Eccles et al., 1983). This theory suggests that students’ willingness to engage in academic tasks depends largely on two judgments they are constantly (but not always consciously) making.
- Can I succeed at this?
- Is this worth my effort? (Do I see value in it?)
Students rarely articulate these questions out loud, but their answers often shape how they approach the tasks we put before them. A student encountering a text dense with technical vocabulary may wonder whether they’ll really be able to make sense of it. Another might wonder whether the work feels worth the effort.
Rather than deciding that this means “Nolan isn’t motivated,” this perspective instead invites a different question: What instructional conditions are we creating that make engagement more likely?
Once we begin thinking this way, motivation stops looking like a student trait and starts looking more like a feature of the learning experience itself. The way we introduce a task, the amount and type of support we provide, and how clearly, we establish purposes for reading all communicate something to students about whether success feels possible and whether the work is worth their effort. Instruction, in other words, is already answering students’ motivational questions, whether we intended for it to or not!
In my work with teachers, I’ve made the case for a few shifts. The first shift is that we have to really think about what our students will need to be successful with the reading (or reading task) we’re giving them. And the second is that we want to make it very clear why we’re doing what we’re doing. Our students must see some value in it.
This perspective reframes some of our well-intentioned efforts to increase engagement. When students struggle, for example, our instinct is often to lessen that struggle. Maybe we’ve resorted to reading the texts aloud, so students won’t shut down, or we’ve simplified it so they won’t complain that it’s too long. While these practices might have a place in some situations, they unintentionally lower the bar. The EVT framework instead calls us to consider how we can use our instruction to create conditions where students believe they can be successful. This might include clarifying our expectations, breaking complex tasks into manageable steps, and providing scaffolds so students can do the work with support as needed.
A motivationally informed approach, therefore, isn’t about lowering the demands so that they’ll be inclined to complete it. Instead, it asks us to think carefully about what students need to be successful: scaffolding, clear purposes for reading, and opportunities to make sense of the text together. When instruction provides this kind of support, challenge becomes something students can take on with confidence rather than something to avoid.
1. Email me if you’d like the article! keconradi@wm.com