When helping students isn’t helping

As educators, we want to help students learn. Yet again and again, I notice something different: instead of helping students deal with their challenges and therefore learn, it seems we often tend to remove those struggles for them. Why do we do that?

This question kept bothering me. While reading The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga, I came across a concept that helped me to answer this question: life task separation. The Courage to Be Disliked is a book about Adlerian psychology that emphasises responsibility for one’s own happiness. I was first put off by the title, since I like to be liked. But, it turns out this was exactly the reason why the book influenced me so much. 

In education, teachers and students also have life tasks. According to the authors of The Courage to be Disliked, a student’s life task is to explore, experiment, fail, learn, and gradually develop into the person they want to become. 

The teacher’s life task is different: to create an environment where that learning can happen by offering structure, knowledge, and feedback. When I read this, I started to look differently at situations in my own work as an educator. One passage in the book kept coming to mind:

“As a result of having received counselling, what kind of resolution does the client make? To change his lifestyle or not. This is the client’s task, and the counsellor cannot intervene.” (p.123)

Within EDLAB, I facilitate an extracurricular, university-wide student board: the EDLAB Student Advisory Board (ESAB). It is a space where students share their perspectives on education and where I can bring those insights into EDLAB projects.

Over the past few years, however, I noticed something changing. Students seemed increasingly stressed about balancing their studies, personal lives, and their role on the board. Hoping to help, I reduced the number of board meetings each year. I expected that fewer meetings would ease their stress.

In hindsight, I should have asked the students what would have helped them, but I didn’t think of that at the time. For me, the answer was clear: I needed to reduce the expectations and demands. So, I did. 

Yet nothing really changed. Students still arrived at meetings exhausted. They talked about not having eaten a proper meal in days or not having time to see their friends. Each time I heard this, I felt a knot tightening in my stomach.  My students reflected that they were surviving, but not thriving. The only thing that seemed within my control was adjusting my own deadlines for them or reducing my expectations. And so I did. I thought I was doing something good for them. But every time I adjusted something, something else felt off.

And then, during one meeting with my ESAB students, something clicked for me: I had been adjusting deadlines and meetings because it made me feel better. If expectations were lower, I no longer had to witness my students struggle. Their “thank-yous” eased the knot in my stomach. But their stress remained. By removing demands, I was mostly easing my own discomfort rather than helping students deal with theirs. 

“[…] But think about it this way: intervening in other people's tasks and taking on other people's tasks turns one's life into something heavy and full of hardship. [ ...]" (p. 127) 

Thinking about life tasks helped me see what was happening. My students and I have different responsibilities. Their life task includes learning how to manage commitments, set boundaries, and deal with challenges. My life task as an educator is different: to create an environment where they can learn those things. By constantly adjusting my expectations, I had been taking over the students’ life tasks while neglecting my own.

This insight changed how I approached my role. Instead of immediately adjusting deadlines or reducing meetings, I started asking students what they could do to deal with their challenges. Rather than removing struggle and thereby removing opportunities for them to prioritise tasks or set boundaries, I tried to focus on creating an environment where they could develop exactly those skills.

My experience with my ESAB students made me wonder how often this dynamic appears in other educational settings. Many educators care deeply about their students, just like I do with my students. When we see students overwhelmed, our instinct is often to step in and make things easier for them. This intention usually comes from a good place. But the idea of life tasks raises a difficult question: whose struggles are we solving when we do this? 

Creating a supportive learning environment is an essential part of the educator’s role. Of course, this does not mean students should face difficulties alone. But support may sometimes mean holding the space for students to work through challenges rather than solving those challenges for them. Resolving the discomfort of seeing them struggle at times is not the students’ life task, but ours.

Reflecting on life task separation changed how I see my role as an educator. I still want to support my students. I just try to do it in ways that help them develop their own strategies for navigating challenges. The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga taught me that when I feel the knot in my stomach while seeing my students struggle, I am doing exactly what I aim to do: supporting my students’ learning. 

"Naturally, one gives all the assistance one possibly can. But beyond that, one doesn't intrude. There is a saying that goes, 'You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.'[...].” (p.123) 

How is this for you? Have you ever found yourself taking over a student’s life task because you wanted to help? I would be curious to hear your experiences. Please reach out via email at: lena.gromotka@maastrichtuniversity.nl 

By Lena Gromotka, Jr. Education Innovation Coordinator, EDLAB, Maastricht University