How Clarkston Elementary Replaced Cougar Cash with a Points System Kids Actually Work For

The Behavior Committee Takes the Lead

Rather than making the decision unilaterally, Curtin relied on the school’s existing behavior committee to research and recommend a solution. The committee, made up of teachers from across grade levels plus the assistant principal and school counselor, meets monthly. They heard about LiveSchool from another campus in Tyler ISD that was already using it and reached out to learn more.

The committee’s requirements were specific. They wanted a platform where students could earn points and spend them without the points being subtracted from their balance. They wanted to track both positive and negative behaviors in the same system. And they wanted something more robust than Class Dojo that could serve as the single source of truth for student behavior data.

LiveSchool met all three criteria. The committee went through training, built out the behavior rubric defining what students would earn points for, and made a critical philosophical decision: LiveSchool would be used exclusively for positive behavior reinforcement. Negative behaviors would be documented in the system for data purposes, but no points would be deducted for them. The distinction mattered. Students would see their point balance as a reflection of everything they had done right, never diminished by a bad day.

The committee structure ensures that every grade level has representation. A PreK classroom faces different behavior challenges than a fifth-grade classroom, and the rewards that motivate a five-year-old differ from those that motivate an eleven-year-old. By including teachers from across the age spectrum, the committee builds a system that works for the entire campus rather than optimizing for one group at the expense of another.

The Cougar Cart

The replacement for cougar cash is the cougar cart – a mobile store that staff roll into the cafeteria during lunch periods every three weeks. Students open LiveSchool, check their point balance, and choose from a menu of treats and prizes. The transaction is digital, fast, and transparent.

Moving from a nine-week redemption cycle to a three-week one was deliberate. Elementary students need more frequent reinforcement to maintain motivation. A nine-week wait between earning and spending is an eternity for a six-year-old. Every three weeks keeps the connection between positive behavior and tangible reward tight enough that students feel the system is responsive to their effort.

The social dynamics of the cougar cart matter as much as the prizes. Students see their classmates shopping. They notice who has enough points to get the items they want and who does not. That visibility creates positive peer influence: students who fell short this cycle have a clear, three-week runway to earn enough for next time. There is also a redemptive quality to the short cycle. A student who had a rough stretch knows they do not have to wait months for a reset.

Outsmarting the Point Gamers

The first six weeks went smoothly. Students were motivated to earn as many points as possible for the cougar cart. But as with any economy, the participants learned to optimize. Students figured out the point costs for the items they wanted and worked backward: earn exactly enough points, then coast. Effort dropped once students hit their target number.

The behavior committee identified the problem and brainstormed solutions. A teacher brought up a LiveSchool feature the team had not explored: the randomizer. The idea became a new component of the school’s quarterly leadership assemblies, where students are already recognized for perfect attendance, honor roll, and student-of-the-month awards.

Before each assembly, the leadership team reviews point data by grade level. They identify where the majority of students fall and set a threshold – say, 250 points for second grade. At the assembly, every student who meets or exceeds the threshold is acknowledged. Then the randomizer selects one student from that group to compete in a fun game in front of the entire school: bottle flip competitions, Head Shoulders Knees Plate, or other silly challenges that students love.

The strategy works because students never know what the threshold will be. Unlike the cougar cart menu, where prices are published, the assembly cutoff is a moving target. Students cannot game a number they do not know, so the incentive is always to earn as many points as possible. The combination of public recognition, the randomizer’s element of chance, and the fun of the games reignited motivation across grade levels.

One Platform for Every Conversation

The consolidation into a single platform transformed how Clarkston handles behavior data. Every six weeks, grade-level teams sit down for Student Success Team meetings with administration and the school counselor. They pull up LiveSchool reports for students who have accumulated multiple negative behavior documentations and look for patterns. Is it always the same time of day? The same type of behavior? The same context?

Those patterns drive intervention decisions. Instead of reacting to individual incidents, the team can see trends and put supports in place before small issues become large ones. The data is specific enough to ground parent conversations in facts rather than impressions. A teacher can show a parent exactly when and where their child earned positive recognition and where challenges are emerging, all from the same screen.

For teachers, the single-platform approach eliminated a significant source of daily friction. No more toggling between Class Dojo, paper cash, and a separate behavior spreadsheet. One system handles point awards, behavior documentation, reward redemption, and reporting. That simplicity makes teachers more likely to use the system consistently, which in turn makes the data more reliable, which improves every downstream conversation about student behavior.

Showing Kids It Is Cool to Do the Right Thing

Curtin sees the behavior system as a counterweight to the outside influences that increasingly shape how elementary students think about what matters. Even at the PreK–5 level, students today face social pressures from social media, smartphones, and a cultural landscape that did not exist a generation ago. Academic expectations are higher too. Kindergartners are expected to read by the end of the year. Naps are a thing of the past.

Against that backdrop, Curtin believes schools have a responsibility to explicitly teach students that positive behaviors are valued. LiveSchool becomes the mechanism for making that message tangible. When a student earns points for being prepared, for being respectful, or for helping a classmate, they receive immediate feedback that those actions matter. The cougar cart and the assembly games reinforce the message with experiences that students talk about with their friends and their families.

The billboard message Curtin says she would share with every principal in the country reflects this philosophy: be the positive and show the positive. In her view, negativity will always be the default unless educators make a deliberate, sustained effort to foreground the good. The behavior system Clarkston has built is not just a management tool. It is the school’s daily practice of proving to students that doing the right thing matters, that someone notices, and that it is worth celebrating.

For a principal who started her career as a teacher at this same school, the work is personal. Curtin knows the community, knows the families, and knows what the students face outside the building. That familiarity drives her conviction that the system must be relentlessly positive: documenting challenges for data purposes, but reserving every point, every cart visit, and every assembly celebration for the behaviors the school wants to see more of.