Academic admissions is never a perfect process. Sometimes we realize a student is not going to make it through the program. S/he may not have the right attitudes or character, or may have academic deficiencies that are too large to overcome, or some combination of these. However, we tend to support our students, and it gives us no pleasure to expel anyone. We pass someone barely, deep down knowing the student is not going to succeed, and yet hoping against evidence that s/he may benefit from another chance. Such indecisiveness simply kicks the can down the road, letting someone else deal with the problem.
Down the road, things are not going to get easier. A student who stays in a program long enough gets an impression that s/he is doing just fine, and can succeed. S/he invests a lot of money into a particular career, and becomes less open to other options. Not doing anything about an unfit student is ethically problematic. It amounts to giving false promises and charging unnecessary tuition. It is a part of the American culture, the irrational belief that anything is possible if one tries hard. This is why it is so hard to tell someone – this profession may not be good for you, but if we are not honest about it, who will be?
I am not talking about cases where the outcome is indeed uncertain. Many students do change, and many dramatically improve with time. Some can really surprise, and we should have plenty of room for trial and error. In those cases, one has to work as hard as possible to move such a student along, while warning other colleagues ahead in the program. Yet we prepare educators. Somone can be an OK engineer or a research assistant, but not a good teacher or psychologist, or a school principal. The test is simple: Would you let your own child or grandchild have this person as a teacher or a counselor? If the answer is no, the ethical obligation is clear. Other people’s children deserve the same as yours. Our primary ethical responsibility is not with our students, but with their students. I suppose it is the same with other professions as well. If you train pilots, their future passengers are more important than this student’s life dream.
Sometimes a fear to make a mistake may be paralyzing. However, it is impossible for just one faculty member to dismiss any student from a program. Students always have a right to due process. There will be committees, appeals, several layers of review. What we use is a collective judgement to protect students and each other from making hasty, biased decisions. The collective wisdom of the institution is greater than that of any of us individually. However, to engage it, someone has to raise an alarm, and not kick the can down the road.
Down the road, things are not going to get easier. A student who stays in a program long enough gets an impression that s/he is doing just fine, and can succeed. S/he invests a lot of money into a particular career, and becomes less open to other options. Not doing anything about an unfit student is ethically problematic. It amounts to giving false promises and charging unnecessary tuition. It is a part of the American culture, the irrational belief that anything is possible if one tries hard. This is why it is so hard to tell someone – this profession may not be good for you, but if we are not honest about it, who will be?
I am not talking about cases where the outcome is indeed uncertain. Many students do change, and many dramatically improve with time. Some can really surprise, and we should have plenty of room for trial and error. In those cases, one has to work as hard as possible to move such a student along, while warning other colleagues ahead in the program. Yet we prepare educators. Somone can be an OK engineer or a research assistant, but not a good teacher or psychologist, or a school principal. The test is simple: Would you let your own child or grandchild have this person as a teacher or a counselor? If the answer is no, the ethical obligation is clear. Other people’s children deserve the same as yours. Our primary ethical responsibility is not with our students, but with their students. I suppose it is the same with other professions as well. If you train pilots, their future passengers are more important than this student’s life dream.
Sometimes a fear to make a mistake may be paralyzing. However, it is impossible for just one faculty member to dismiss any student from a program. Students always have a right to due process. There will be committees, appeals, several layers of review. What we use is a collective judgement to protect students and each other from making hasty, biased decisions. The collective wisdom of the institution is greater than that of any of us individually. However, to engage it, someone has to raise an alarm, and not kick the can down the road.