ABCs to ATMs - The Case for Paying Students to Learn

In the summer of 2023, I found myself walking into a school in Cleveland, Ohio not as a distant observer of educational systems but as an active participant in a daring experiment. Eight inner-city youth, all taking summer classes, agreed to embark on this journey with me. The setup was simple: two sessions per week for three weeks, no rigid rules, just an open environment where respect and safety were the only boundaries. Cell phones were welcome; games were allowed. But there was a catch, a golden opportunity hidden in the guise of a challenge: learn some lessons, pass short micro-assessments, and get paid. A maximum of $100 per student was up for grabs over the three-week period. 

The first week was chaotic, to put it mildly. Students were loud, having fun, arguing with each other and one even resorted to acting like a baby. Despite the disorder, I reiterated that they were free to do as they pleased, as long as it was safe and respectful. Responses varied. One student declared she doesn’t read, watch long videos, or study. Another wanted a shortcut, asking for the practice test to ace the actual assessment. I had to clarify that the practice “test” was, in fact, the study material itself, designed to be straightforward and non-deceptive.

Then, something remarkable happened in the second week. One student, obviously bright but likely under-challenged in her regular classes, passed two assessments. As I counted out $30 for her, a competitive spark ignited between her and a friend, also a high-achiever, or likely to be one with the right motivation. The race to $100 was on. Surprisingly, they both exceeded the threshold, driven by their friendly competition. The additional assessments passed were not even eligible for pay.

By the third week, the entire dynamic had shifted. They understood it was no joke, but also the work had to be done to earn the money. It was not a free handout. Students were early, computers at the ready, impatiently asking for approval to take their assessments. Every single student completed multiple assessments, earning between $50 and $100. Even the student who had initially claimed not to read or study passed three assessments with ease on the final day.

The impact extended beyond academics. The post-program survey revealed that the earned money was primarily spent on food. One student bought a coveted shirt; another generously split the earnings between a younger brother and sister. Those engaged in the initial competition added their earnings to their savings accounts. The school principal later confided in me that the sense of accomplishment and self-reliance these students exhibited was nothing short of incredible.

This experiment was a microcosm, a small-scale demonstration of what could be possible on a larger scale. It showcased not just the power of financial incentives, but the latent potential in each student, waiting to be unlocked. It underscored the notion that when we change the rules of the game, we can fundamentally alter the outcomes.

No doubt this did not permanently change their study habits. To do that, the program would have to be implemented year-round and open to everyone. But in a very short period of time, never yelling, never punishing students, and never pushing them to get results, their attitude and behavior changed to a much more academic mindset. Last I checked, this is the goal and challenge for every school.

The question now is not whether this model works. The question is, how can we make this an everyday reality for every student? As we explore this question and many others throughout this book, keep in mind the transformative power of a single summer experiment. If such drastic changes can happen in just three weeks, imagine the possibilities of implementing this model full-time.

Now, let’s dive into the heart of the matter.