How Teachers Can Reinforce to Students That They Matter

My school recently celebrated its 10-year anniversary by welcoming back our first graduating class. Teachers got to mingle and reminisce with the mature young adults who we once knew as gangly middle school students. I will admit that in my science teacher soul, I hoped more of my former students had grown into research scientists who needed to access deep knowledge of the periodic table. But during our catch-up conversations, I heard a surprising sentiment: Top of mind for many former students was how a class made them feel, as opposed to the content they learned or even the grades they earned.

These interactions served as a reminder that when my current students ask, “What grade did I get?” the underlying questions they’re seeking answers for are “Am I enough?” and “Do I matter?” Jennifer Wallace, author of Never Enough: When Achievement Culture Becomes Toxic—and What We Can Do About It, tackles these underlying questions in her new book, Mattering: The Secret to a Life of Deep Connection and Purpose. Wallace suggests that a sense of mattering rests on four pillars: being significant, appreciated, invested in, and depended on. 

After my conversations at the 10-year anniversary party, I began to wonder: What if my teaching focused more on highlighting the importance of every student, rather than simply getting through the curriculum or administering a final grade? Inspired by Wallace’s book, I instituted small changes that have made a big difference in my classroom. As you plan out your next lesson, unit, or even entire school year, here are a few ideas to consider.

Significant: Helping Every Student Feel Seen

Wallace’s concept of mattering is grounded in the idea that humans are relational beings. Within the context of their relationships, they want individual recognition. In the classroom, teachers might consider moving beyond generic praise like “Good job” by offering specific recognition of growth, effort, and unique contributions. For example, instead of “Thanks for joining in on the discussion,” you could say, “I noticed how much more confident you became while sharing your ideas.”

In my classroom, I utilize personalized awards. I jot down periodic observations in a spreadsheet, which I reference weekly to highlight a student’s unique contributions. These awards are a fun way to share what’s significant to you. They provide insights into your own hobbies and interests, and allow students to see you as your own person—all of which is great for building relationships and mutual trust. A former colleague of mine made her weekly award an owl, because she was a fan of Harry Potter and attended Rice University. My award is a banana (long story).

Appreciated: Valuing Students for Who They Are

Wallace asserts that being appreciated for qualities other than performance can provide a more authentic and long-lasting sense of mattering. This is especially true for our achievement-centered students. School recognition typically revolves around grades, performance, and behavior. It’s certainly true that I want my students to master the content in my course, but I additionally take time to notice their kindness, humor, creativity, resilience, and empathy. The power of a greeting at the door, with a statement like “I see you’re wearing a new shirt,” can go a long way in showing students that in your classroom, they are never invisible.

Students-to-student relationships are similarly fertile grounds for demonstrating appreciation. Peer circles and gallery walks are opportunities for students to affirm one another’s strengths. Make sure to remind students that their value is tied not to competition, but to their presence as a part of our larger classroom community. Just as no organ is more important than another in the body, every student maintains an essential role at school. (A biology teacher I know extended this metaphor so they could deliver their classroom’s “liver award.”)

Depended On: Helping Students Feel Needed

The interrelationships of the classroom community are reflected in another component of Wallace’s “mattering” framework: the need to feel depended on. When I moved from middle school science to high school science, I worried that classroom roles like “attendance aide” or “paper passer” would be seen as juvenile. As it turns out, older teens are just as eager to contribute.

Feeling needed can occur in small group contexts, too. Collaborative projects are celebrations of learning, yes, but also of shared responsibility and connection. At the end of a project, I invite students to reflect not only on their own contribution, but also on how each team member played an interdependent part. For formative learning activities, I have students select group roles, so they know right away which tasks they can do to support the success of their team. 

Invested In: Showing Students You Care About Their Well-Being

Students benefit deeply from knowing that adults, including their teachers, are genuinely invested in their lives. As you engage with students during class, you can learn about their other interests and passions, and then use this information to deepen your relationships. Often, the smallest gestures communicate the greatest care: remembering a student’s favorite snack, asking about a hobby they mentioned months ago, or revisiting beginning-of-the-year “get to know you” activities by incorporating quiz questions about students’ identities.

End-of-year letters to students can be especially powerful. I create personalized notes for my students that showcase unique traits I’ve observed, while acknowledging their growth throughout the year. It might seem overwhelming to write a note to each individual student, but technology makes the process easy. In my spreadsheet, I add columns for “unique trait,” “area of growth,” and “other acknowledgments,” and then use a template to mail-merge these components into cohesive letters. I hand out the notes on the last day of class with the instructions to read them over the summer for encouragement. I’ve found that many alumni remembered these messages or even kept the notes years later, indicating to me that the effort was well worth it!

The Lasting Impact

We teach humans, not robots. The research is quite clear: Mattering matters to humans. When students truly know that they matter, they demonstrate greater confidence and a deeper emotional connection to their school. As the saying goes, “They don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.” Long after students forget specific lessons, many will remember how they felt in your classroom.