Teaching my son to play t-ball was not only a great learning lesson for myself, but my son had a great lesson in learning as well. He had to be led from the very beginning stages all the way through to understanding the game and the rules to eventually reaching the point of great learning success. On his very first day of practice, my son was all about having “playtime”. Forget the rules and structure, he just wanted to throw the ball, run and hit things. With time and many practices, he was able to follow the guidelines of making the game function and yet he still got to throw the ball, run and hit things. He just did them in a more organized way. With practice, he was able to hit the ball off the tee, follow that with dropping the bat and eventually running from base to base while his teammates cheered him on. He was also able to retrieve the ball and often times even catch the ball and make the tag to get his opponent out. My son learned to play!
I believe that positive reinforcement played a big part in my son grasping the timeline of an actual t-ball game. When he first stepped up on the plate, his only intentions were to swing that bat, make contact with the ball, watch it fly and then make sure everyone saw it. It didn’t quite work out that way. Whenever he swung the bat and sent the ball flying, typically in an out of control direction, his coach would tell him that it was not good, which never made my son happy. When he took his time, stepped up to the plate with confidence and patience and hit the ball in a more appropriate manner however, his coach responded with a smile, clapping and encouraging words. Often times my son was then allowed to continue batting when he cooperated this way. The positive reinforcement from his coach helped him to get his focus on batting to accomplish a goal, scoring, rather than power hitting for crowd appeal.
When it came time to work on throwing and catching the ball while in the field, I noticed that negative reinforcement seemed to play a big part. My son is very proud of the fact that he has a very powerful arm. He is definitely not the little boy that needs you to stand five feet away to catch his throws. When practicing, he thought it was funny to throw the ball up and above everyone’s head and make them run after it. He was benched! It was then that the realization that he had done wrong sunk in. When he didn’t do as he was asked and throw correctly to his teammates, he had to sit out. My son then realized that by listening to the coach and following directions, he was able to continue practicing with his teammates and not have to sit out alone on the bench. By the coach enforcing in a negative way, my son learned to reinforce a more positive behavior.
Secondary reinforcers, I believe, were the final key in the long run to my son experiencing a wonderful structured t-ball game. He had already come to understand the rules. He knew what would happen if he purposely threw the ball out of someone’s reach or if he swung the bat at the ball just to be wild and silly. He had learned what to expect from the coach in all of these situations and he had learned how to avoid them. Secondary reinforcers came into play when the kids got to play their first real game in front of the crowd. The applause, the smiles, the chants of encouragement. Those things became what my son, as well as the others on the team, wanted. The primary reinforcer of having the batting or throwing privileges taken away was replaced with the secondary reinforcer of praise. Not just from the coach, but from everyone.
I believe that positive reinforcement played a big part in my son grasping the timeline of an actual t-ball game. When he first stepped up on the plate, his only intentions were to swing that bat, make contact with the ball, watch it fly and then make sure everyone saw it. It didn’t quite work out that way. Whenever he swung the bat and sent the ball flying, typically in an out of control direction, his coach would tell him that it was not good, which never made my son happy. When he took his time, stepped up to the plate with confidence and patience and hit the ball in a more appropriate manner however, his coach responded with a smile, clapping and encouraging words. Often times my son was then allowed to continue batting when he cooperated this way. The positive reinforcement from his coach helped him to get his focus on batting to accomplish a goal, scoring, rather than power hitting for crowd appeal.
When it came time to work on throwing and catching the ball while in the field, I noticed that negative reinforcement seemed to play a big part. My son is very proud of the fact that he has a very powerful arm. He is definitely not the little boy that needs you to stand five feet away to catch his throws. When practicing, he thought it was funny to throw the ball up and above everyone’s head and make them run after it. He was benched! It was then that the realization that he had done wrong sunk in. When he didn’t do as he was asked and throw correctly to his teammates, he had to sit out. My son then realized that by listening to the coach and following directions, he was able to continue practicing with his teammates and not have to sit out alone on the bench. By the coach enforcing in a negative way, my son learned to reinforce a more positive behavior.
Secondary reinforcers, I believe, were the final key in the long run to my son experiencing a wonderful structured t-ball game. He had already come to understand the rules. He knew what would happen if he purposely threw the ball out of someone’s reach or if he swung the bat at the ball just to be wild and silly. He had learned what to expect from the coach in all of these situations and he had learned how to avoid them. Secondary reinforcers came into play when the kids got to play their first real game in front of the crowd. The applause, the smiles, the chants of encouragement. Those things became what my son, as well as the others on the team, wanted. The primary reinforcer of having the batting or throwing privileges taken away was replaced with the secondary reinforcer of praise. Not just from the coach, but from everyone.