Preserving Student Dignity When They’re Struggling in Rigorous Classes

I teach majors-level Anatomy and Physiology for students who want to enter the medical professions. Some are headed for nursing, some for physician assistant programs, and a few, medical school. Every semester I see the same emotional dichotomy of hope and distress all over their faces. And I get it. I remember that feeling myself.

I remember how one exam could feel like it held my entire future.
I remember learning to fear failure and value perfection.
And if I were to be completely honest, I remember learning to fear hope and dreams too, because what if I didn’t get it? What if wanting something would destroy me when things didn’t go my way?

So on exam days, when I look out at my students, I see all of that written across their faces. The belief that one score is powerful enough to define who they are and who they’re allowed to become.

A few years ago, I started saying something to them before an exam that I wish someone had said to me:

“Your worth is not defined by what you get on this test.
It is not defined by what you earn in my class or any class.
If it doesn’t go your way, we analyze it. Then we fix it. We do better, even if it is just by a little.”

The first time I said it, one of my students approaced me after the exam and said it made her cry. She had never heard that from a professor before. Students don’t just fear doing poorly, they fear what they think it says about them. They fear disappointing us as faculty. They fear looking unintelligent in front of peers. Most of all, they fear that one number on an exam could take their dreams away.

That’s exactly when preserving dignity matters most.

I see students who are fighting for a future they desperately want. Some are working full-time jobs, caring for children or parents, managing chronic illness, dealing with trauma, or holding their lives together with pure determination. They walk into my classroom exhausted, hopeful, and terrified all at once. They have no idea the battle they have ahead but they they are brave enough to try.

Sometimes I will have a student who knows they probably won’t pass, keep showing up. They sit through every activity and every lab. They help their team on the team-based learning activities. They study their heart out in the lab.They create study tools for their peers. They encourage their peers with the same encouragement they desparately need themselves. They put everything into understanding the material, even when the grade can’t be saved.

I never see this as a waste of my time. I see it as them demonstrating courage. I actually feel so proud of them.

It brings me joy to watch that resilience. The willingness to keep learning, to keep participating, to keep wanting this. What breaks my heart is when a student stops wanting it, when they disappear into silence and quit believing in themselves. That, to me, is the real loss.

Before every exam, I remind them:

“You can only change the outcome, if you keep showing up.
We can fix strategy. We can fix timing. We can fix how you study.
What we can’t fix is giving up.”

Grades matter. They have to matter. There are safety standards, program requirements, and competencies students must meet. I won’t ignore the importance of this. Grades may measure competency, but they do not measure worth. They do not measure potential. They do not measure who you are becoming.

Preserving dignity is not about lowering the bar.
It is about reminding students that they belong here, even when they struggle.
Especially when they struggle.

It means looking a student in the eye and saying:

“I still see you. Your effort matters. You're not less because this is hard.”

That is the part of teaching no syllabus mentions, but it is the part that shapes students for the rest of their lives.

What It Looks Like to Preserve a Student’s Dignity

I do not believe dignity is preserved by sugarcoating the truth or lowering expectations.
Dignity is preserved by giving students honesty, structure, and compassion at the same time.

Here are some of the things I do in my own classroom to help students feel seen and supported, even when they are not doing well.

1. Remind Them That Outcomes Are Not Permanent

Students often see one exam as a final verdict on their ability. When the grade is bad, they assume it means the door has closed.

Outcomes become permanant when they quit.

A single score is not a prophecy.
It is data.
And data can change.

2. Tell Them They Are Special, Because They Are!

I make a point to tell students that they are amazing and special.
Not in a hollow, motivational-poster way, but in a real way.

Special because they are choosing a profession that serves others.
Special because they are taking on some of the hardest coursework offered.
Special because it takes real courage to pursue a dream that demands so much of you and costs sacrificing time and fun.

Students need to hear that their value as a person does not rise and fall with their grade.

3. Help Them Say Out Loud What They Need

Many struggling students do not know how to articulate what they need.
Help them find the language.

“What do you need to be successful?”
“What is getting in your way that you can control?”
“What is getting in your way that you cannot control?”
“What would support look like for you right now?”

Once they put it into words, we can actually work with it.

Sometimes the need is academic — different study methods, more retrieval practice, better time management.
Sometimes the need is emotional — reassurance, encouragement, or simply being heard.
Sometimes the need is structural — fewer shifts at work, more sleep, a healthier schedule.

None of those needs are weaknesses.
They are realities.
And acknowledging reality is how you move forward.

4. Use Self-Analysis After Every Exam

After each test, my students complete a self-analysis.
This is not busywork.
It is accountability and reflection wrapped into one.

They identify:

What they studied
How they studied
What they avoided
Where they second-guessed themselves
What worked
What failed
What they contributed to the outcome
What they plan to change

This helps them take ownership of their role, instead of staying stuck in shame or blame.

But it also helps me.
It lets me understand the full picture like their work schedule, their health challenges, crises at home, sleep issues, anxiety, or simply study strategies that are not suited to physiology.

I cannot change the grade for them. I cannot change their circumstances, but I can help them make a plan.
And knowing their context allows me to give recommendations that are actually useful.

5. Teach Them How to Build a Plan, Not Excuses

When a student is struggling, the goal is not to give sympathy alone.
The goal is to help them build a pathway forward.

I guide them through questions like:

“What is one thing you can change this week?”
“What is one thing you need to stop doing?”
“Where can you carve out time for retrieval practice?”
“What is something you can ask for help with?”

I do not solve the problem for them.
I help them see that they can participate in their own rescue.

6. Validate Their Humanity While Holding the Standard

This is the part students don’t always understand:
It is possible to hold the line and still hold compassion.

I cannot change the rubric.
I cannot un-miss a deadline.
I cannot erase the exam score.

But I can make sure they never mistake academic standards for personal judgment.

“You are not failing because you are unworthy. You are struggling because this is hard, and your life is hard, and we will figure out the next step together.”

That is the message underneath everything.

7. Rebuild Trust, Because Students Do Not Trust Us

This one is uncomfortable to admit, but it is true:
Many students do not trust their professors.

They assume we think less of them.
They assume we are annoyed by them.
They assume we have F quotas to meet.
They assume we only value the A students.
They assume we will give up on them the moment they fall behind.

So I work intentionally to earn trust back.

I show up consistently.
I stay steady.
I do not shame them for struggling.
I am honest when the news is hard, and I am always hopeful that the news can change.

Trust grows when students notice you do not disappear when they do poorly.
It grows when your feedback aligns with your words.

The Bottom Line

Preserving dignity is not about pretending the grade does not matter.
It is about refusing to treat students as if their grade is the only thing that does.

It is about helping them remember:

They can improve.
They can grow.
They can start again.
They can try a new strategy.
They can choose a better time.
They can come back stronger.

And it is about making sure they hear this from me every semester:

“You are worth so much more than one test.
You can change the ending as long as you continue to show up.”