It’s that time of year again – assignments, follow-ups, reminders, and grades. It’s the time of the year when I look at my Google Sheets for each course, fill in the grades from recent assessment tasks, and organise the data. This is often the period when it becomes evident that one or more students will fail the course.
Nothing is a surprise here. Students who are behind or are at risk of failing have had numerous ‘nudges’ during the semester. They have had warnings that they are close to the attendance quota cut-off mark, can’t miss additional lessons, or have received emails that they haven’t submitted work. These messages always contain offers of help and further communication; they always show that I believe in their ability to succeed.
What have I done to avoid this situation?
1. I send out weekly emails with reminders of the tasks students should be doing, suggestions for how to do them and offers of assistance.
2. In many tasks, there are opportunities to revise and resubmit or to redo the task and improve. If the assignment is a game in Quizizz or Nearpod, I allow all students to play as many times as they like until they are happy with their score.
3. At a few points during the course, I check student progress and send personal emails listing the tasks a student is missing.
4. Many units contain choices so students can complete tasks that suit them, making the learning more relevant, enjoyable, and doable.
5. More than anything else, I show understanding and grant flexibility to those in dire straits. Students coping with illness, tragedy, complicated pregnancies, army reserves service, and other problems are all supported in creative ways. These are not the students failing to complete a course or struggling to reach the required standards.
All this, however, isn’t enough!
Many of my colleagues tell me “That’s their choice”, “They are adults, they are responsible for their actions”, “Not everyone is suitable for post-graduate study”, “Don’t worry, they function like that in all of their courses”, “They’ve been here for years, they keep doing and redoing the same courses” and “Don’t take it personally, it has nothing to do with the quality of your course”.
It is difficult for me to accept these responses; I find myself deep in remorse over every student who doesn’t succeed. Learning is my ultimate goal in teaching, and if students aren’t attending enough or aren’t applying themselves to the work they need to do, then they aren’t learning or aren’t learning enough. I am disappointed by this lack of engagement and knowledge.
I find myself worried about those young people who are repeatedly experiencing failure. Each student is different – some are indifferent, some are coping with stress, and others don’t seem to understand the severity of the situation. I constantly try to remind myself that some students enrolled in the college are simply not there at the right time for them. Busy with other issues or pursuing interests elsewhere, they are just not focusing on their studies at that moment. This situation always reminds me of the sobering section of Oh, the Places You’ll Go! by the brilliant Dr Seuss. Seuss reassures us that although sometimes we won’t succeed at a particular time, it can certainly happen in the future.
Is this frustrating? Yes! I often find myself pushing and encouraging, motivating and reassuring, but the other side isn’t there. I hear, “You’re right; from now on, I will put more effort in”, “Don’t worry, I will be submitting everything very soon”, or “Thank you for caring; I will get back on track right now”. Sometimes I offer more and more flexibility and support, and even if it is appreciated, it isn’t utilised. In several cases, I know I wanted the student to pass the course more than they did. I put more effort into the pushing than they put into the pulling. Sometimes I admit defeat.
Maybe I am naive or haven’t been in higher education long enough to view the whole picture. In the relational pedagogy which directs me, I see each student as an individual, a potential future teacher, and a person capable of completing the task. Will this change? Will I become more indifferent as I continue teaching? I don’t think so; I hope not. If I stop caring or no longer search for what I might be doing wrong, if I reduce my responsibility for every student’s success, I won’t be modelling the kind of teacher I want my students to become. Just as I want them to learn the content I am teaching; I want pre-service teachers to learn about learning (while experiencing it), to feel enthusiastic about education, and adopt a caring approach to their future pupils and colleagues. I want my students to see their own pupils as individuals, see assessment as a chance to get to know learners better, and craft teaching for improved learning.
