When my son Grant started college over a year ago, I asked him how he chose his classes. The eighteen-year-old computer science freshman explained that he looked at course syllabi and checked student reviews on RateMyProfessor. When there were multiple sections of a beginner-level computer science class available, he opted for the one with a stricter attendance policy.
Really? I was taken aback. Wasn’t it established by research that mandatory attendance policies make students “lose their sense of control,” leading them to feel negative about their decision to attend college? (St. Claire, 1999). Wasn’t this the same boy who once told me, “Mom, the more you ask me to do something, the less I want to do it”?
However, Grant’s reasoning was surprisingly thought-provoking. He explained that during his final months of high school, he skipped many classes because they felt pointless. He feared that without the pressure of losing grade points for missing class, he would continue the same behavior in college. So, it wasn’t that he wanted the strict policy—it was something he felt he needed to stay motivated.
As a mother, I was thrilled to see my teenager finally understand the difference between “want” and “need,” and take responsibility for addressing that need. It reminded me of James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, who asked his assistant to change his social media passwords every week to prevent himself from wasting time online. Like Clear, Grant was seeking external help to avoid relying solely on his willpower.
As an instructor, I’ve observed similar struggles in my students, who constantly juggle their wants and needs. For instance, my students often grumble about the weekly vocabulary quizzes I assign, but by the end of the course, they admit that those quizzes helped them retain words they would otherwise have forgotten.
When establishing a new habit or behavior, it requires significant willpower, and sometimes external help is necessary. For students like Grant, professors often serve as that external source of support, helping them prioritize what they need over what they want.
Yet, professors who are responsible for holding students accountable face a national movement advocating for greater flexibility for college students. A report from Inside Higher Ed shows that nearly two out of five students wish their professors were more flexible when it comes to attendance and participation.
It seems post-COVID college students crave two seemingly contradictory support systems: structure and flexibility. But is it possible to design a course that balances both? While searching for answers, I came across a program in Jerusalem called Shutaf. Founded by two mothers, the Shutaf Inclusion Program offers year-round activities for children, teens, and young adults, both with and without disabilities. The program’s guiding principle is “structured flexibility,” which I believe holds valuable insights for college course design.
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Having a Structure
Henry Cloud, in his book The Power of the Other, writes, “Structure allows us to invest in the things that are important to us but don’t exist inside of us yet.” This is exactly the role a college education should play—helping students develop into responsible adults by providing a framework that guides them through the learning process.
In the context of course design, structure refers to the organization and sequencing of content in a way that helps students understand how the material builds upon itself and what is expected of them. To illustrate this, think of a course as a house—in every term, students have to navigate between different courses that have their own room setups. If the basic structure of each course is consistent, students can move through them more easily, without unnecessary confusion or cognitive overload.
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Building Flexibility Into the Structure
The Shutaf model also suggests incorporating flexibility into the structure to account for unplanned incidents. In college course design, flexibility should be proactive and thoughtfully integrated into the course from the start.
Flexibility doesn’t simply mean allowing changes; it involves creating room for creativity and adaptability. It gives instructors the ability to adjust course content or teaching methods as needed, transforming the course from a fixed script into a dynamic exchange between the instructor and the students.
However, many college courses still lack this dynamic. According to an Inside Higher Ed/College Pulse Survey, the most common barrier to student success is a rigid teaching style that doesn’t resonate with students.
To build flexibility into a course structure, instructors must make both philosophical and methodological changes:
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Besides the philosophical considerations and methodological strategies, the theoretical framework of Universal Design for Learning (UDL) is also a useful resource for building flexibility into course structure as it offers multiple ways of tailoring content and pedagogy for different learners.
Having a Plan for Incidental Accommodation
Incidental accommodations in college courses often refer to provisions for students with disabilities, medical conditions, or other needs that might affect their participation. While universities typically provide support services for these students, the most impactful accommodation—attendance policies—often lies in the hands of instructors.
Research shows that class attendance is one of the best predictors of academic performance. This explains why some instructors implement strict attendance policies. While I don’t object to such policies, I believe they shouldn’t be the only factor motivating students to attend class. For example, I’ve noticed fewer requests to miss class on days when a quiz, which counts toward the final grade, is scheduled. This gives students an additional reason to attend beyond the mere desire to learn.
Another option could be requiring students to submit a catch-up report for any missed class or providing them with a list of learning points to check off with a proof of mastering. This approach gives students an incentive to decide whether attending class or writing a report is the better option.
For students who must miss class due to health or family issues, thoughtful incidental accommodations can provide valuable life lessons in responsibility. One syllabus I reviewed included a section titled “When Life Happens,” emphasizing that life’s unpredictability is a part of the college experience. In the event of an absence, students were encouraged to:
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Structure and flexibility are not opposing forces; rather, they can complement each other in creating an effective learning environment. In a world where content knowledge is just a question away from AI, college education must evolve beyond simply transferring knowledge and skills. It should focus on fostering personal growth by providing students with both care and challenges. While using a strict attendance policy may encourage someone like my son to show up to class, what truly makes a difference is giving him a class that’s worth attending — a class that offers an engaging, fun, and inspiring learning experience to all students.
For more ideas of balancing structure and flexibility, check out our new resource page called Adapting for Student Success on DePaul’s Teaching Commons.