August 21, 2025
Recognizing when to step in and guide a student who may be heading towards academic failure is crucial in the educational landscape.
Is it acceptable for a student to retake the same course multiple times without any intervention from educators? This question has sparked considerable debate in academic circles.
Traditionally, some community colleges embraced the philosophy of the “right to fail,” which emphasized a tough-love approach. This perspective suggested that students should have the freedom to learn from their mistakes, even if it meant failing a challenging subject like calculus several times before realizing that a career in engineering might not be their best fit. The belief was that sometimes, persistence pays off, and failure can be a powerful teacher. However, it’s essential to recognize that even the most effective educators may need to intervene to ensure that lessons are learned.
In the early stages of my career, I found myself sympathetic to this ideology. After all, it resonates in various fields. For instance, I quickly learned that a career in professional baseball was not in my future after numerous unsuccessful attempts at hitting the ball. This early realization spared me the frustration that many athletes face when they cling to a dream long after it becomes unattainable. Similarly, in sales, frequent failures are part of the learning curve, and performers in theater often experience rejection before finding success. If failure is a part of growth in these areas, why should education be any different? Community colleges, in particular, are known for providing second chances to those who may not have thrived in traditional settings.
However, my perspective shifted due to two significant factors: a deeper understanding of students and changes in federal financial aid policies.
Over time, I learned valuable lessons from my interactions with students. During my graduate studies, I worked part-time as a tutor in the campus writing center. I vividly recall assisting a student with her paper, which was riddled with grammatical errors and awkward phrasing. As we reviewed her work, she expressed frustration, stating that she understood her mistakes but couldn’t articulate why they occurred. To illustrate her point, she shared a note she had written to a friend that was clear and effective, contrasting sharply with her paper. When I inquired about the difference, she revealed that she genuinely cared about the note.
This revelation was enlightening. What appeared to be a lack of skill was, in fact, a sign of disinterest. When she was invested in her writing, she demonstrated considerable ability. The struggle with her paper stemmed from a lack of engagement.
This principle can extend beyond individual assignments to entire courses. It’s challenging to excel in a class that doesn’t resonate with a student’s interests.
Yet, students can sometimes find themselves trapped in a cycle of dissatisfaction. They may become so focused on a particular path that they fail to see alternative options. This is where the role of an educator becomes vital.
Years ago, during a period of in-person registration, a student approached me seeking permission to retake a course for the fourth time. When I inquired about his previous failures, he admitted to disliking the class. I was puzzled as to why he would want to retake a course he found unenjoyable. He explained it was a requirement for his major. However, I pointed out that it was only necessary for one specific major, and we offered other options. His expression changed as he realized there were alternatives.
When I asked if he had enjoyed any classes, he mentioned a psychology course he liked. I informed him about the psychology major and outlined the requirements for graduation in that field. His entire demeanor shifted, and about a year later, he returned with his girlfriend to express gratitude. He had found a path that excited him, and he had always possessed the potential; he just needed someone to highlight a different direction.
Additionally, changes in federal financial aid policies have made it imperative to reconsider the approach to student failures. With the reduction in the lifetime limit for Pell Grant eligibility, students who repeatedly enroll in the same course risk jeopardizing their financial support and overall academic progress. Regardless of the rationale behind this policy change, its implications are significant. Before students exhaust their financial aid, it is our responsibility to intervene and explore more productive pathways.
This perspective may lack the straightforwardness of the “right to fail” philosophy, but it aligns more closely with the realities students face today. Just as speed checks can save lives, timely interventions can safeguard students’ academic futures. I would prefer to see someone step in rather than watch a student struggle endlessly, only to emerge with debt and no degree to show for their efforts.