As a 24-year veteran of public education, I was sure that I understood what our high school graduates needed to know and be able to do to succeed in postsecondary institutions. Of course, students needed to excel on standardized tests. They needed to experience outstanding STEM and career pathway opportunities that connect their interests to their strengths. They needed to participate in dual-enrollment courses, allowing them to experience college-level work while still maintaining the supports of home and high school. I thought I knew it all … until my friend's son, Tristan, went to college. That's when I realized there is much more to college prep than these simple supports.
Don't get me wrong—I still believe that all of those experiences I mentioned are important. However, Tristan's senior year did not adequately prepare him for what was ahead. He told his counselor that he was not interested in pursuing an honors diploma, so he didn't. He took a total of five classes—ranging from guitar to communications, but no math, science, or social studies—to remain eligible for sports. Tristan was extremely likeable and charming, so he was able to maintain a 3.5 grade point average throughout high school without cracking open a book. He scored better than proficient on state tests, so he was passed over for skill development opportunities as scarce resources were spent remediating students who couldn't get over the hump. Perhaps Tristan's mom should have paid more attention, but she counted on her son and his counselors to keep him on track. He would be fine, they said. Don't worry, they said. He has a 3.5 grade point average, after all.
Tristan's first semester away at college was, as he would tell you, "a learning experience." He rarely called home, easing his mom's mind that he was struggling with homesickness or with anything, really. What she didn't know was that his classes were interfering with his social life. Somewhere around midterm exams, Tristan realized he was off track. Most of his courses were presented in a lecture-only format with some classes seating more than 200 students—a setup that essentially negated his ability to charm. His teachers rarely took attendance, which made skipping class more attractive. Deadlines were enforced. The few assignments were to be completed online with a group of students unknown to Tristan, and he had no experience with how this process worked. Tristan was floundering in unfamiliar waters, and he did not know how to ask for help.
Fortunately, a friend in his dorm pointed him toward the Student Success Center in the library. Here, Tristan could sign up for tutors and get extra assistance in his most difficult classes. Tristan also took advantage of the office hours of his professors, thinking that if his teachers knew his name, he had a far better chance of salvaging the semester. Finally, he took advantage of his strength in writing. When he had the option to write a paper, he took it. Tests continued to be a struggle, but he learned that he could often counter poor performance with a tutoring session or with a well-written extra credit assignment. In the end, Tristan did make it through his first year without being placed on academic probation. However, he would be the first to say that he was completely unprepared for college.
Tristan's story was not only eye-opening for him, but it also taught me valuable lessons. Clearly, we can better prepare high school seniors for college in many ways.
- Scheduling. Senior year needs to look very different for all of our students. We do our students no favors by granting easy schedules and early releases. If we are serious about preparing them for what comes next, then let's offer our students internships, dual-enrollment courses, and on-the-job training. All students should have opportunities to earn credit online, not just those in credit recovery. And passing state tests cannot be the bar for accomplishment; we must encourage all students to stretch themselves academically, no matter what their test results indicate.
- Personalization. Tristan might not have excelled in a STEM curriculum, but his teachers never encouraged him to strengthen his skills in writing, either. His love of music was evident, but no one ever discussed careers in music with him beyond the obvious option—performing. If Tristan had more clearly seen the connections between school, his talents, and his future, it is quite possible he would have focused on his success from the beginning. School administrators and teachers need to connect our students to that information, but they can only do that when they connect personally with each and every student. We have to know what makes them tick to get the clock to run.
- Self-monitoring and self-regulation. Tristan fell into that all-too-common trap of newfound freedom combined with the inability to self-regulate. The lack of rigor and accountability in high school made him believe that he could succeed at everything without much effort. If we intend to prepare all of our students for postsecondary work, then we need to commit ourselves to mimicking that environment through a gradual release of supports. We can't expect our students to excel on their own until we allow them to practice on their own. And we can't expect our students to know when to ask for help until we place them in situations that require them to ask for it.
- Perseverance. Fortunately, Tristan did not give up even when faced with the possibility of failure; however, not all of our students continue to try in those circumstances. Are there ways to teach them that failure is not definitive? Do our students know where to get help when they need it? Are we providing them ample opportunities to build skills that they can rely on in times of struggle? Perhaps the most important question is this: are we providing these opportunities to ALL of our students? Sometimes it is easier to push motivated students while allowing others to skate by, much to their detriment.
While Tristan was able to get a handle on his college experience, there are many students who come home defeated after the first or second year, saddled with debt and no degree. Tristan's story makes me reflect back on my coaching days, when I tried to make practice harder than the games. In practice, we could develop our skills, perfect our strengths, and prepare for any scenario in a safe, supportive environment. Shouldn't we provide those opportunities in high school as well?