When I first began teaching, I was “voluntold” to be the yearbook sponsor, which was a challenging endeavor for a new teacher, as well as a mixed bag. Working with eager student staff members who were both responsible and delegated tasks efficiently was a joyful experience; however, some of the time-honored traditions that came with creating a yearbook were a little more difficult to navigate. Most notably, I had qualms about a feature that was an annual staple: the superlative section.
Superlatives are a pervasive end-of-year practice in schools everywhere, and not just in the yearbook. Both adults and kids alike receive certificates of recognition for “best” or “most” designations, whether in earnest or as a joke. I well remember a teacher receiving the “best hair” award when this individual had no hair at all, and questioning the taste behind such a joke regardless of how the recipient felt about it. With the end of the year fast approaching, there are so many reasons to avoid the superlative quagmire, and to replace this increasingly problematic practice with wiser options.
Even when superlatives are carried out with respect to what kids do well, they remain divisive. If there can only be one (or at most, two) students who are identified as the best of anything, then kids inevitably wind up feeling left out. For example, if a student receives the end-of-year award for “most likely to win a Pulitzer Prize,” there are almost guaranteed to be other aspiring student writers or artists who feel as though they were overlooked. Instead, designating categories for group recognition, such as “Creative Powerhouses” or similar, helps all students to feel included. Everyone needs to have that sense of belonging.
Humor is often tricky, and we might wish to avoid it for student recognition altogether. However, if that’s not on the table, there are ways to proceed more wisely. Superlatives often play on amusing concepts, but things can get out of hand quickly. Think of the classic but problematic label of “class clown,” for example. If a student receives this superlative, they may or may not take offense; however, for a lot of kids, internalizing that particular stereotype can be damaging, as it sends the continuing message that a person can only get attention if they are not taken seriously. If we want to be funny, try a more benignly humorous approach, like giving the student who always has a thermos of coffee in her hand the “Can’t Live Without Coffee” award. That way, the mood stays light, and nobody’s feelings get hurt.
If we want to take time to celebrate one another at the end of a year, why not do so in earnest? It is far easier to be critical of others than to focus on their strengths, and a genuine effort to consider what each individual student brings to our classrooms can be a beneficial exercise that strengthens relationships, even at this late point in the school year. Whether taking time out to acknowledge students occurs in the yearbook or in some kind of awards ceremony, think about the opportunity to leave relationships and connections with others on a high note, and to instill warm associations in everyone of their time together.
One of the most valuable ways to take stock of a school year is to focus on memories, which are shared and therefore emphasize collective over individual experiences. A quick yet effective way to “mine” memories is to ask students to write a few of their favorites on slips of paper. The teacher can collect them, read them over to make sure all are appropriate, and then post them on a bulletin board or have kids pick up slips of paper at random and share aloud the following day. For students who struggle a little bit with thinking of ideas, sentence starters like “The funniest thing that happened all year was” or “The day I remember the most in this class is probably” help to spur thinking.
Superlatives might be a long-standing tradition to close out the end of the school year, and students should absolutely be celebrated. However, we sometimes unintentionally do more harm than good when we let the giddy final days of instruction relax the standard for what is acceptable, and what might make someone feel left out. Instead of focusing on the “best” or the “most” anything, let’s instead make sure that every kid in school heads toward the summer feeling affirmed, included, and happy.
Written by Miriam Plotinsky, Education World Contributing Writer
Miriam Plotinsky is an instructional specialist with Montgomery County Public Schools in Maryland, where she has taught and led for more than 20 years. She is the author of several education books (both out and forthcoming) with W.W. Norton, ASCD and Solution Tree. She is also a National Board-Certified Teacher with additional certification in administration and supervision. She can be reached at www.miriamplotinsky.com.
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