One of the interesting things about Vermont’s education system (and it may apply in other states too) is that it offers flexible pathways to a high school diploma. In practice, that means schools are directed to be as creative as possible when it comes to awarding a student a high school diploma. The state doesn’t scrimp on putting rigor into the system, but it also recognizes that one person’s rigorous education is another person’s improperly installed faucet. The state looks at the range of possible, successful lifestyles available in the culture and allows students to tailor their educational path to the lifestyle that most attracts them, only asking that they pursue that lifestyle with a sense of discipline and focus.
That is an educational mission I can get behind, and it’s one of the reasons I work at the school that I do. It takes the spirit of that mission and tries to live it out to its fullest. Whatever flaws exist at our school exist solely because of the resources that are available to it, and not due to any flaws in the underlying system.
Because virtually every school is working with limited resources, Vermont taxpayers have, through our legislative process, made certain resources available to each and every one of the state’s high school students. One of those resources is the ability to take two college courses for both high-school and college credit. Though it has other benefits, the “Dual Enrollment” program allows every student in Vermont to receive their high school diploma with six college credits under their belt, provided gratis care of Vermont’s taxpayers.
Not every high school student is prepared to take advantage of this resource, however. College classes are no joke, and many high school students don’t possess the necessary study habits to succeed at the college level, where for every hour of class time, students should expect to put in a minimum of two to three hours of indepedent work-time. Unfortunately, that kind of sustained, unsurpervised work time is often beyond the ken of an attention-limited teenager.
That’s where the high school comes in. Schools need to schedule time in each student’s day to receive direct assistance on how to manage themselves and their resources when it comes to achieving their academic goals. The role of the high school in the Dual Enrollment process is not to help the student learn the content — college resources must be used for that, whether by taking advantage of a campus tutorial center, advocating for accomodations for their specific learning disabilities, or seeking direct help from the professor or teaching assistant; instead, the role of the high school is to improve the student’s executive functioning.
If students are interested in attending college courses (and at my school, we actually require it as a condition of their diploma), then the high school must do everything it can to support them, short of following them to class and taking notes for them.
Not every student needs assistance all of the time, but high schools need to continually check in with them and schedule time each week to dedicate their attention solely to the question of their college class, time when they are more or less guided depending on the student’s needs.
Not every student wants to go on to college. Some don’t even want to achieve a high school diploma — they think of themselves as just killing time until they’re old enough to drop out (of course, educators try to use what time we have available to us to convince them to do otherwise, but that’s neither here nor there).
Regardless of a student’s future plans, they ought to have the experience of attempting to succeed in a bona fide college-level course. It’s a gut check. It may disappoint them — it may destroy their confidence or increase their anxiety — but it will also give them a sense of what they’re able to achieve when the academic rubber hits the rigorously tested road.
I don’t say that to be cruel. I say it because, when the dual enrolled student experiences that gut check, they still have time left in high school to work on whatever skills they found lacking during the experience. I also say it because college is not cheap, and every student ought to receive a free (and honestly offered) sample before they decide to buy.
I’m proud to live among taxpayers who are willing to foot the bill on those initial costs, and as an educator, I do everything I can to make sure our tax dollars don’t go to waste, applying my portion of it to ensuring each student understands at least one way they might be able to approach an academically challenging goal.
This is not say each student I’ve helped with this process has been successful in their college class. Students drop courses halfway through a semester, and despite their best efforts, students sometimes fail a whole semester. That’s okay. From a high-school teacher’s perspective, the only thing I care about is whether, through that experience, the student learned something about themself, something they can work on if they so choose.
College credit is nice. It has real monetary value and (ideally) tangible or intangible educational value, but college credit is also just a bonus; it sits atop the experience’s instrinsic value, which, intrinsic as it may be, still must be earned.
Dual enrollment, while open to every student, is not for every student simply because not every student is ready for a reality check on their study habits. But for students who are capable of self-reflection and of setting and acting upon a goal, the experience is as good as it gets, passing grade or no.
As a high school educator, an adjunct college professor, and a lifelong student, I can’t recommend it enough.
