“Knock, Knock”: The Importance of Humor, Games, and Rituals in Creating a Robust Classroom Culture

Introduction: Why Joy in the Classroom Needs To Be Discussed

“Knock, knock!”

“Who’s there?”

“Bacon.”

“Bacon who?”

“Bacon a cake for the party.”

This comes from a book of jokes that my 7-year-old son recently received for his birthday from his grandfather. As corny as it is (and it is indeed corny), my son committed this joke to memory the first time he heard it and has shared it with his friends every chance he gets.

I recently wrote an article about the importance of joy in the classroom. It was a passion project of mine, and I was able to delve into the benefits of less traditional and more experiential learning opportunities including field trips, assemblies, and school celebrations. Although learning was still a primary target, these events also focused on allowing students (and faculty, staff, and even parents for that matter) to have fun, form relationships, and strengthen the overall community. By doing this, studies have consistently shown that not only does campus culture increase, but also student engagement and academic proficiency.

Having written it, however, I realized that I had to pragmatically narrow the article’s scope to covering whole campus events. As a consequence, this also meant that I had to forgo discussing the ways to incorporate joy directly into the classroom. This article aims to correct that, and for good reason.

In his book Teach Like a Champion, Doug Lemov names the “Joy Factor” as one of the key instructional strategies that successful teachers use, explaining: "...people work harder when they enjoy working on something—not perhaps in every minute but in general. Furthermore, joy is a powerful driver of memory; things associated with positive emotion are more easily remembered" (as cited in Andersen, 2022, p. 11). Thus, although one might easily dismiss things such as humor, games, and rituals as being frivolous or, even worse, distractions from instruction, the data not only refutes this but actually identifies that ignoring joy in the classroom could actually be an obstacle to learning.

Hoots and Kahoots: How Humor, Games, and Rituals Improve Academics

Despite being one of the more consistent ways of improving classroom culture, humor also remains controversial. There are several reasons for this, including the potential of it becoming distracting or even upsetting to students. This latter point has become even more significant with the emergence of trauma-informed instruction and the focus on teaching social-emotional skills, both of which are significantly undermined by joking in a way that is sarcastic, demeaning, or insensitive. With that said, studies have consistently shown that when done right, classroom humor can benefit students both emotionally and academically.

One of the primary benefits of classroom humor is that it helps reduce classroom anxiety and serves as a kind of psychological release valve. This is particularly beneficial because reducing stress allows the human brain to shift to a more optimal state for processing information. Garner (2006) explains that creating positive emotional and social connections can establish rapport and reduce students’ defense mechanisms, allowing them to better focus and attend to the information being presented (p. 177). This ties directly into Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, where higher-level needs such as self-esteem and self-actualization cannot occur until more basic ones, such as physical and emotional safety, are met. Humor provides a way of meeting those needs so that students can divert their full mental energy towards engaging with the content.

Although the impacts of humor on emotional wellness have been studied and are largely accepted, an even more thought-provoking theory is emerging that directly ties the use of jokes with cognitive growth. It is called Instructional Humor Processing Theory (IHPT) and asserts that when a teacher uses a joke or playful scenario in class, the student brain recognizes an unexpected pattern or incongruity and must mentally resolve it. In doing this, the brain engages in cognitive elaboration where, in processing the twist in expectations or wit behind the joke, it pays closer attention and links the content being taught directly to experience, making it significantly more retrievable later (Zhou & Lee, 2025).

Essentially, processing jokes requires students to use higher-level thinking skills such as analysis, evaluation, and synthesis while also providing an additional synaptic link to the content (attaching the feelings of amusement and joy to the academic content being taught). To simplify this even further, I would like to rely on the wisdom of my own mother who once said, “You have to be smart to have a sense of humor because it takes intelligence to see the incongruities in life.”

Before educators trade in their lesson plans for microphones or a pair of clown shoes, however, two very important caveats must be established. Ignoring these two points risks creating an environment that can either become distracting or hostile, effectively undoing any potential positive benefits and even undermining classroom culture and instruction.

The first component of effective classroom humor is that it must be content-related. In their study about IHPT, Zhou & Lee (2025) note that to be effective, classroom humor must be textually integrated into the lesson as opposed to being completely unrelated. Furthermore, a joke that is random and off-topic “forces the brain to switch tasks needlessly, adding an unhelpful cognitive load that actively interferes with learning.” Fans of the classic show The Office might remember Michael Scott continually bothering his employees with corny and pointless jokes that actively prevented them from completing their jobs. Not heeding the principle of relevance runs the risk of having a similar “Michael Scott effect” in the classroom.

More important than this, perhaps, is that the humor must be affiliative and never negative. Shoda & Yamanaka (2021) define this former style as being the right kind of humor, as it is “benign, positive humor aimed at bringing people together, sharing inside jokes, creating classroom rituals, or laughing collectively at benign mistakes.” This is the kind that is typically associated with “dad jokes,” catchphrases, and the silly, fun humor that one would see on a Disney Channel or Nickelodeon show. In my own career, I have encountered examples such as classroom chants like “win it for the biscuit,” recurring jokes about marrying sock puppets and replacing cars with hot air balloons, and increasingly relying on utilizing memes—such as the infamous “6-7” (which has even breached the walls of my home through my son)—or telling friends that they “dropped their pockets.”

Conversely, negative humor consists of using sharp wit, teasing a student, or relying on heavy sarcasm that inadvertently erodes relationships, violates classroom boundaries, and degrades student achievement (Omer-Attali et al., 2024). This is the kind of joking that involves embarrassing or insulting others, creating an unsafe environment for students where anyone can be called out and embarrassed at any given moment. Unsurprisingly, such an environment substantially limits student achievement, as students’ attention becomes divided between mastering academic content and keeping themselves emotionally safe. Returning to Maslow’s hierarchy: because safety is a foundational need, it will pull a greater amount of mental energy, as one cannot become self-actualized when their basic needs are unmet.

Similar to humor, classroom games can also positively impact student learning in a way that both improves classroom culture and academic rigor. Furthermore, it does so in a way that does not carry the same kinds of risk that humor might, making it a particularly attractive option for educators. In terms of supporting students’ social and emotional needs, gamified instruction operates very similarly to classroom humor. Plass et al. (2015) elaborates on this, writing, “The playful nature of games can reduce the anxiety associated with learning and testing, thereby lowering the cognitive load associated with fear of failure and freeing up cognitive resources for the actual learning task” (p. 261). In allowing students to engage in the content through games, educators are able to create a lower-stakes environment focused on fun that helps the students engage in learning in a way that is less threatening to them. In doing this, teachers are also able to remove the components of anxiety, allowing a truer reflection of what students know.

In addition to creating a safer, more playful environment, classroom games also offer students a chance to engage in academic content in a way that offers immediate, actionable feedback and increases intrinsic motivation. This is because the components of gamified learning—such as leaderboards, points awarded immediately, and badges, certificates, and digital trophies—“directly address the psychological need for competence,” so “when designed around clear learning objectives, these elements significantly enhance behavioral engagement and cognitive processing, directly resulting in higher academic achievement” (Sailer & Homner, 2020, p. 82). This instant feedback and high level of engagement that is also individualized to each student is likely why learning games such as Kahoot!, Quizizz, and Blooket have become so prominent in classroom instruction, particularly when preparing students for major assessments.

The final core component of classroom joy has the least defined boundaries but arguably the greatest impact on positive culture: classroom rituals. For the purpose of this article, I am defining rituals as established processes, procedures, and recurring actions that not only shape the efficiency of the class but also have an added purpose of helping craft a positive classroom culture. As one can see, however, even with this definition there is some degree of haziness between a simple classroom procedure (such as passing out materials) and a routine, as it is highly subjective and dependent on how the classroom community views it. For instance, if passing out materials is an established classroom role that is part of a classroom community where every student has a job, or involves some kind of community-enforcing process such as a chant or handshake, even this could become a ritual.

Furthermore, there is a degree of subjectivity between students and the teacher, where one might view it as a ritual and the other simply as a procedure; this is most likely the result of one perceiving it as joyful while the other does not.

The benefits of establishing classroom rituals, however, are truly impactful. This is because while humor and games are somewhat transitory bursts of activity, rituals offer a stable and predictable environment that is constant. While humor and games strengthen classroom culture through the removal of anxiety, rituals strengthen it through adding predictability. Evans et al. (2021) writes, “Predictable classroom rituals and structured routines serve as psychological anchors for students. By reducing the ambient cognitive load associated with behavioral uncertainty, rituals maximize the working memory available for complex academic tasks” (p. 114). Thus, rituals provide a stable framework from which the spontaneous joy of humor and games can emerge safely and predictably. Without this framework, however, there always exists the risk that even the gentlest humor or best-planned games might fail due to a perceived lack of safety and community.

Aside from creating stability, rituals also create inclusivity in the classroom. This sense of belonging serves as a powerful asset for social-emotional wellness, academic engagement, and overall motivation. In fact, studies show that having a sense of belonging is “a foundational predictor of academic motivation” and that having ritualized interactions with instructors and peers creates an environment of psychological safety where students are naturally encouraged to participate and persist in completing cognitively rigorous activities (Gray et al., 2018, p. 73). Although building classroom rituals is somewhat ambiguous and involves a collective effort between the teacher and students—requiring some degree of organic development, as it is nearly impossible to determine in advance what processes or procedures might become meaningful to the class—over time these very same rituals become a primary driver in student achievement, meaning that the investment is well worth it.

Conclusion: A Tough Audience? Maybe. But More Important Than Playing Carnegie Hall

Seeing that this article focuses on culture, it feels more than appropriate to bring it back to my rambunctious 7-year-old son. Most educators know that becoming a parent can enrich their pedagogical practices, as it builds a higher degree of empathy for parents and a way of understanding children that is just not possible in any other way. Also, the children of educators often find themselves becoming guinea pigs when it comes to instruction, serving as valuable sources of information as to what is motivating today’s generation of learners.

Over time, I have also found that predicting what might cause joy for students is nearly impossible and requires some degree of trial and error (even if you do ask them for their insights in advance). This is particularly true for rituals. Many of our favorite games and jokes have happened entirely by accident.

One example is when he asked me to carry him to the living room because he was too “tired” (he actually had misplaced his slippers and did not want to get his feet cold). I pretended to be his servant as a joke, doing my best to imitate Mr. Carson from Downton Abbey and referring to him as “my liege.” This evolved into a game where he was a king and I was his royal sergeant-at-arms, where I performed a series of increasingly absurd tasks. Finally, I staged a coup d’etat and “imprisoned” him in the dungeon (his bedroom). This quickly became his favorite game (imagine my embarrassment when he wrote in his 1st-grade About Me book, “I feel brave when my dad locks me in my room,” with the teacher mercifully having him add the lines, “when we are playing”).

At the same time, other rituals sometimes fall flat. Last year I discovered a wonderful channel that has revived the “Saturday morning cartoons” programming block. It shows all of my favorites that I grew up with (and were even old for a Millennial) such as Popeye, Tom and Jerry, Woody Woodpecker, and Looney Tunes. I decided that this was the perfect father-son tradition to start, and so every Saturday morning I would wake up at 6:00 AM, pick up some donuts, and watch cartoons with my son. As much as he loved the donut, the cartoons were not to his interest, and I quickly found him stealing the remote and turning something else on when my back was turned. Although I was broken-hearted by his lack of interest (I mean, what child would not be entertained by Popeye knocking out Bluto or Bugs outsmarting Yosemite Sam?), I also had to accept that although enjoyable to me, this ritual did not have the same kind of meaning for him.

At the same time, my son’s after-school program recently ended for the year. One day he was at the house when I was filming a video on Instagram, and he asked to be a part of it so he could read his books to the audience. On a whim, I thought, “Why not? It will probably be a whole heck of a lot more interesting to my followers than listening to me drone on about education!” We filmed him reading his books The Americans (which is about balloons) and The Rainbow (which is also coincidentally its topic). In doing this, I showed him how I edit the videos, share them with others, and even check its viewership. He was so excited that by the end of the evening we had made plans for a series of videos in the future, and he even began to build set pieces. So while the ritual of watching Saturday morning cartoons failed to gain traction, the one of making after-school videos with his dad has not. (Also, it should be noted that his videos have easily gotten twice the viewership that mine have; he is clearly a more interesting content creator than I am).

This is the dynamic of creating joyful classrooms. Nearly every other aspect of pedagogy can largely be controlled by the teacher. Even when seeking input from the students, which is highly recommended, the teacher is still the one who ultimately plans the lesson, activities, assessments, procedures, and overall structure of the class. Culture, however, is the one piece that an educator cannot fully control because, to be effective, the students must have a nearly equal role in shaping it.

The kinds of humor that a class will find amusing, the games that they will find engaging, and the rituals that become meaningful to them are wholly dependent on their own interests, backgrounds, and relationships with each other and the greater community. At the same time, studies show that if teachers are able to do this work with students (and not to them or for them), then students improve both socially-emotionally and academically.

So let’s end with another joke:

“What comes before Part B?”

“I don’t know, what?”

“Paaaaaaaartay!” (dances ridiculously)

If Part A is planning all of the controllables in class, then Part B is certainly planning for the uncontrollables. This means listening to students and shaping the instruction to include joy.

(For a video companion to this article, click here.)

References

Andersen, P. L. (2022). Joy: A power problem (Master's thesis, Rhodes College). Rhodes College Digital Archives. https://dlynx.rhodes.edu/bitstreams/d522b427-99a4-412b-95cf-d4477f5491e8/download

Evans, S., Meyer, A., & Thorne, J. (2021). Anchors in the storm: The role of predictable classroom routines in reducing cognitive load and behavioral anxiety. Journal of Educational Psychology and Culture, 14(2), 108–122. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jepc.2021.04.012

Garner, R. L. (2006). Humor in pedagogy: How ha-ha can lead to aha! College Teaching, 54(1), 177–180.

Gray, D. L., Hope, E. C., & Matthews, J. S. (2018). Black and belonging at school: A case for interpersonal, instructional, and institutional opportunity structures. Educational Psychologist, 53(2), 70–86. https://doi.org/10.1080/00461520.2017.1421466

Omer-Attali, M., Lefstein, A., & Netz, H. (2024). Laughter and classroom boundaries. Language and Education, 39(2), 154–172. https://doi.org/10.1080/09500782.2024.2360976

Plass, J. L., Homer, B. D., & Kinzer, C. K. (2015). Foundations of game-based learning. Educational Psychologist, 50(4), 258–283. https://doi.org/10.1080/00461520.2015.1122533

Sailer, M., & Homner, L. (2020). The gamification of learning: A meta-analysis. Educational Research Review, 29, Article 100301. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.edurev.2019.100301

Zhou, W., & Lee, J. C. (2025). Teaching and learning with instructional humor: A review of five-decades research and further direction. Frontiers in Psychology, 16, Article 1445362. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2025.1445362