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Extrinsic Motivation Aids Students in the Learning Process

My story

By Mary ODonnellPublished 3 years ago 11 min read
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Extrinsic Motivation Aids Students in the Learning Process
Photo by Vasily Koloda on Unsplash

“Beep, beep, beep,” I reach over to swipe on my phone and shut off my fifth alarm of the morning. “Ok time to get up,” I tell myself. I wake up after a long night's rest; eyes low like the flowers before the sunlight wakes them. As they adjust to the light, I sluggishly make my way out of bed, like how a dog stretches its legs to go outside after laying on the floor all night. For those that no me I am not a morning person. I need at least thirty minutes to wake up without people bothering me or talking to me or I tend to be irritable. Before I knew it, it was time to head out for my first day of college. I grab a protein bar from the cabinet and start to eat it as a grab my backpack and head outside. I get in my jeep and put Pandora on my radio, changing the station I had on the night before to the I prevail station I have saved on my phone. I put my sunglasses on, and blast my music as I light a cigarette and pull out of my driveway. It's a beautiful summer day, not a cloud in the sky. There was a slight breeze causing the trees to sway back and forth, as if they were dancing under the moonlight. I had my windows down to soak in the rays of sunshine and breath in the fresh air as I drove; until I reached the 7eleven gas station. I pulled up to the curb just outside the front of the store. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to park their, but everyone always does. I went inside to grab a monster energy drink. I paid for my purchase, got back into my jeep, took a deep breath resumed my music and drove until I arrived at three rivers community college. I arrived at school twenty-five minutes early for class. I took a sip from my monster before grabbing my backpack and walking into school. The can had water droplets running down the sides from the temperature change making my hand wet and cold, like when you pick up wet snow in your bare hands to throw a snowball. I wiped my hand on my pants to dry it from the condensation. I opened the door of the jeep, sprayed myself with axe body spray to mask the scent of cigarettes and stepped out onto the hot pavement. The landscapers were in the process of mowing when I arrived at school. The minute I got out of my car the air smelled crisp and earthy, like it had rained the night before, after the first few breaths of fresh air I started to sneeze from the pollen. I made my way through the parking lot locking my vehicle as I shut the door. It was summer so there aren't too many vehicles in the parking lot. Thankfully I was able to get a spot out front.

I walked into school for the first time since 2013. If it wasn’t for my son and the support from my family, I’m not sure I would be coming back to school, let alone college. The tall glass doors were heavier than they looked as I held it open for the student coming in behind me. She thanked me as we both walked inside. I couldn’t find any information online about where my class was being held, and up until that moment I had forgot to check again and see if I could figure out the location. My heart started to pound in my chest, I could feel my face getting warm and sweat building on the back of my neck. I started to panic on the inside. I looked around desperately trying to find any type of information that could have helped me in the moment. I looked to my right to see a security officer at his desk. Hands to my side, I nervously walked up to the security officer’s desk, I took a deep breath and asked if he knew which classroom algebra with Professor C. was being held in. I let out a sigh of relief after getting a response, thankfully he knew exactly where I was going and pointed me in the right direction. I walked through the hallway of the main entrance until I reached the stairs to the second floor. This was not only my first time at three rivers on my own, but it was my first day in college. My nerves were high I could feel my heart rate rise as I climbed the stairs to my first class. As I reached the top of the staircase, I felt tiny ripples of sweat starting to run down my forehead. I tried to control my breathing so people around me didn’t judge. In through the nose, out through the mouth, I used this technique to help control my breathing. The air was cool and dry; the Air-conditioning was definitely working. I got a sudden chill as goose bumps formed up my arm.

Student’s shuffled around me to get to their classes, as I tried to find my own. I walked down a long empty hallway before starting to pass groups of three or four students at a time, I wasn’t expecting as many students as I saw during the summer semester. I strolled along the hallways exploring my new school, looking at the bulletin boards, and information hanging in the hallways. I arrived at my classroom twenty minutes early to find two other classmates sitting on the floor awaiting the arrival of Professor C. I slowly set my bag on the ground and leaned against the wall as I waited. I checked my Facebook account on my phone, texted my boyfriend and even had time for a few games on my phone. Fifteen minutes went by and I finally decided to sit on the floor as more students had arrived and were also waiting. I pressed my back to the wall and bent my knees sliding my back down the wall until I reached a sitting position. I crossed my legs; sitting crisscross apple sauce like taught in elementary school, so I wasn’t blocking the walking path in the hallway. I sipped my monster and waited what seemed like a lifetime.

Professor C. arrived ten minutes late for class. Once he did, I let out a sigh of relief as I got up from the floor to make my way into the classroom; patiently waiting for the students before me to make their way through the door. Professor C. struggled to open the door with the large key ring he pulled out with at least twelve separate keys attached to it. He tried at least three keys before placing his things on the floor to be able to open the door. After what seemed like forever, he was able to unlock the door and students made their way into the classroom single file. I walked into the room to see it illuminated with bright white walls, and big windows with the blinds closed. to me it was your typical college classroom as I had remembered from attending class with my sister a few times while I was growing up and she had to watch me. I took my seat and started to take my materials for class out of my backpack one after the other to get settled at my desk. First my textbook, then my notebook followed by writing utensils and a calculator. Professor C. apologized for being late and began passing out the syllabus for the class. My palms were sweaty as if I was waiting to take an important exam; as I anxiously waited for class to start. I could immediately tell that there may be a language barrier between professor C. and I that may have affected my learning process in class.

Knowing this affected my motivation level, I leaned back in my chair hands in my lap, head down towards my notebook. I started to get nervous and overthink it a little. I started tapping on my leg as I thought to myself “well if I can't understand what he is saying I can’t learn.” I started to become glum and doubtful. That was until, Professor C. started with an ice breaker to help us become more relaxed and comfortable in our classroom. It worked well for a while, we started by going around the room saying our names, something we like and something we are passionate about like a hobby. A few people told jokes, and some didn’t know what to say. Once everyone in class had gone Professor C. told us about him and explained the syllabus to us. He seemed very excited and enthusiastic about math and teaching the class. He spoke loud and clear, was very happy and had a lot of energy. Professor C was Haitian, he wore glasses stood about 5 feet 6 inches and seemed young to be a professor at a college level. It was funny to learn that one of my classmates had gone to high school with my professor.

Class seemed to be going bye quick, we had started a refresher from things we should know in order to get through the class. Professor C. started to explain the multiple ways to solve a specific equation, I was feeling nervous about the explanation and wasn’t understanding it from his perspective very well. I raised my hand to ask what he meant in solving the equation. He responded with a simpler explanation and such enthusiasm as he explained it. He made me confident in the way we solve equations. He said that “everything in life is math. For every problem there is a solution.” He helped me in creating a different perspective for mathematics and even some things related to life that involved it. I was actively learning in this environment, I was thriving.

Before I realized ninety minutes had gone bye. In that moment I felt relaxed and confident about learning and going back to school. I had realized that it was my chance to work hard and succeed in class to achieve greater things in my life. If I wanted to pass the class I needed to study and use all external resources to make sure I got there. When I went home after my first day of classes I spent time looking for apps and tools I could use to help with studying and being able to keep up with homework and practice for tests. but once I started to do my homework is when the panic set in. The work had seemed so easy in a classroom setting, I understood it, I was able to do the work with no problems. Once I got home, I messed up by overthinking and not using the correct functions to solve the equations. I doubted my own ability outside of the classroom when I had nothing but confidence in doing the work in the classroom. I just didn't get it. I reached out to Professor C. sending him a picture of my scribbled-out work on a piece of paper attempting to solve the equation. He was able to walk me through step by step and helped me realize I was just overthinking how to find the solution to the problem. By reaching out to my instructor and using external motivation I ended up passing algebra with a b- it was the most rewarding feeling; especially since this was not only my first college course but my first time going back to school in over six years; yet I can't help but wonder how much differently the outcome would have been if I used my internal motivators and enjoyed doing math in the classroom.

In contrast to McLeod’s article “Some thoughts about feelings;” she refers to an article written by John Nicholls called “Conceptions of Ability and Achievement Motivation,” McLeod agrees with Nicholls who says “[…] such factors are less effective than internal motivating factors in terms of student learning.” (as quoted in McLeod 429). In other words, McLeod and Nicholls say external motivation is less important than inner motivation for students in classroom environments. In stating this Nicholls means being able to focus on rewards and things gained out of hard work drives us less than our self-drive towards achieving things on our own free will, because we want to in the classroom.

Works cited

Susan McLeod. Some Thoughts About Feelings: The Affective Domain and the Writing Process, College Composition and Communications, Vol. 38, No. 4. (Dec., 1997), pp. 426-435.

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