Recognition, without an understanding of the value of it, is worthless. Or at least, discounted.
On one hand, it’s a bit daft to say that: the very definition of recognition (say that five times fast) in the sense of a positive acknowledgment is “appreciation or acclaim for an achievement, service, or ability” (per the OED). If you do not understand or value what is behind that appreciation or acclaim, it is difficult to understand or value the recognition itself.
Sometime between 2009 and 2012 at the end of a PTA year I was awarded the “Golden Acorn“.
At the time I was awarded this I did not know what it was. I mean, I got a nice certificate, and a cute little pin (indeed, a little gold-colored acorn with WAPTSA on it – Washington PTSA), and everyone clapped, and it was nice. I still had no idea what it was. I was thankful of the clapping and of the little get together our PTSA had, where folks were verbally recognized and got little certificates and we put to rest another PTSA year. (I was on the PTSA board from 2008 to 2021 – the years, they blend together).
I still had no idea what the Golden Acorn was. I didn’t have a background in its value, or understanding of its place, priority, or frankly, point. I mean, thanks for the recognition in the meeting, but did I need a tchotchke? Not really. Did I ever really look it up? Nah. I still have the little golden pin in my “collection of weird little things I’ve acquired” drawer.
Last night we (the Royal We) finally got around to voting – in Washington State voting is done by mail, so the three of us dutifully sat around the dinner table, one with their computer up to do research, one reading the voter’s pamphlet, and the third asking pointed questions here and there (and/or running explainers when needed). As part of this the pamphlet reader would read out the position, education, community service, and qualifications of each candidate. We found two Golden Acorns in there.
It was hard for me to figure out why those would be so declared on a voter’s pamphlet, nestled among information like where someone got their JD from, or which Rotary club they were board chair of. To me, this was a chintzy little pin and nice piece of paper that I was certain no one outside of my little PTSA would be familiar with. I was wrong.
Here’s the thing: because I didn’t know this, the *complete value* of the award went over my head. Had I known and understood what it meant, I would have written thank you notes (I am not joking). I would have been much more humbled. Heck, it’s 10-15 years since I got this thing, and it’s tickled my brain repeatedly in the last 12 hours. Yet at the time I didn’t know the full value of the award and therefore the full value of the recognition escaped me.
Recognition in the workplace takes many forms: you can get a shiny new title. You can get money. You can get your name checked in large bold font across emails or reorganizational announcements or “shout outs” at meetings. You can get pizza lunches, Door Dash gift cards, or even 20-sided die. Unless the person *receiving* it values those things, though, it’s not as impactful as one would hope.
This is further complicated by the fact that not everyone values the same things. Some of us are more mercenary than others and straight cash will do, thank you. Some of us like our name in bold letters more. Some of us are food-hounds. Leadership therefore has a tricky problem: how do you properly recognize and individual, or a team, in such a way that *they* value it? In large teams — where you have hundreds of people — finding out if they are more into visibility or cash is problematic; a direct line manager should have that understanding of their team(s) but rolling that up into a nice neat “delivery” that accommodates all is impossible. Even if you knew that person A, B, C preferred money and person D, E, F preferred visibility, once the rewards are out there, minds can change.
The solution, then, is to do both. One of those things costs *nothing* in fiscal terms. It’s fairly obvious that cash rewards (or similar financial rewards: stocks, etc.) has a cost associated and that has to fit within an overall budget for the company, etc. etc. Genuine verbal and visual recognition of folks for a job well done, however, can and should happen publicly and directly. While folks understand the value of a dollar, they need to understand the value of the non-monetary recognition as well.
What does it mean for this VP or that VP to call out your name? What does it mean to have your name identified in a given mail, or proffered in a given meeting? And how is that meaning, and value interpreted based on its origin?
The Golden Acorn award I got was meaningful at the time (and still now) because my *peers* and my board chair were the ones to present it. That it was backed by state PTA was not known to me at the time and now the value that that imparts is a calculation of breadth and an understanding of rarity – there isn’t always one per PTA per year, and its value is understood across the state in the context of PTA. Similarly, the value of verbal or visual recognition (in *addition to* the practical rewards of money) is directly related to the *recipients* understanding of the breadth and rarity of the person or entity providing it. If I don’t know you and/or understand what it means to be praised by you, the value of that praise is somewhat diminished from what it could be.
Bobbie Conti 