Editor’s Note: The following is an article originally published on RealClear Education on August 15, 2025. With edits to match Minding the Campus’s style guidelines, it is crossposted here with permission.
When the semester begins, my classroom fills with anticipation and nerves—mine included. Every term offers a chance to start fresh, build habits, and forge relationships that will carry us through. Those first weeks of any term are far more than icebreakers; they’re a blueprint signaling to students who they are in this space and what we’ll achieve together.
I work hard to elevate every student. But as a professor and parent, I’ve noticed a pattern: male students often drift first when the relationship isn’t there. Men are relational learners. When a young man feels known—when he senses his professor notices and values him—his engagement transforms. The work sharpens. Questions get braver. Risks feel worth taking.
This isn’t just intuition, though. I have seen this play out for years as a teacher. Research confirms that strong teacher-student relationships decisively sustain male students’ motivation and persistence. Studies show positive relationships influence academic motivation, with male students particularly benefiting from feedback that promotes autonomy. When students feel professors care, they work harder and exceed expectations.
The lesson is clear: relationships aren’t a prelude to “real” work—they are the work. For my students to thrive, especially young men, I must be intentional.
[RELATED: “Feelings” Education—It Starts in Ed School]
Being Intentional in a Challenging Moment
Let me share five steps that I take to be intentional in my teaching, to connect and relate with my male students during what is, for many of them, a challenging moment in their lives.
First, I commit to learning not just names but the whole person behind each one. By the second week, I want more than a seating chart in my head—I want to know nicknames, preferred names, where students feel confident, and where they hesitate. Research shows that when professors understand how students learn best and what motivates them, they build stronger relationships that directly influence academic success. This isn’t something “extra” we do when we have time; it’s essential to the learning process itself.
Second, I make a point to notice and acknowledge effort, not just results. Male students especially need to hear that persistence matters as much as performance. A quiet comment like “I saw how you worked through that problem” often lands deeper than any grade on a page. Studies consistently indicate that feedback focusing on effort and process effectively promotes both intrinsic and extrinsic motivation, particularly for students who might be struggling with confidence.
Third, I deliberately build moments for every voice to be heard. In large classes, it’s too easy for quieter students to fade into the background. By creating structured opportunities—small-group discussions, low-stakes writing exercises, brief check-ins—I ensure everyone contributes, including reluctant speakers. When students move from being dependent to independent learners, they begin advocating for their own needs and increase their sense of agency in the classroom.
Fourth, when relationships hit rough patches, I address breakdowns immediately. Male students rarely initiate repair when rapport cracks—research confirms this tendency. So, I take the lead in clearing the air, using restorative conversations to ensure a bad moment doesn’t harden into lasting distance. This proactive approach prevents disconnection from spiraling into broader academic disengagement.
Finally, I work to make emotional intelligence a natural part of academic life. Research shows that helping students build skills for navigating conflict and uncertainty can boost achievement and reduce disruptive behavior. In my classroom, I demonstrate how to address challenges thoughtfully—not as a form of therapy, but as an essential aspect of intellectual growth and professional preparation.
[RELATED: Is It Time to Retire Social and Emotional Learning?]
The Broader Stakes
These steps aren’t gender-exclusive. Every student benefits from being known, encouraged, and challenged. Data shows social-emotional learning benefits manifest across demographics, improving academic outcomes and long-term success, with benefits lasting 18 years post-participation.
But the stakes are especially high for male students facing unique educational challenges. When young men disconnect from classrooms, they often separate from academic communities. This disengagement cascades into reduced civic participation, limited career opportunities, and difficulty forming professional relationships.
Consider the broader context: male students are increasingly struggling in educational settings. They’re less likely to graduate from college, with women now earning roughly 60 percent of bachelor’s degrees. In 2021, men received only 42 percent of bachelor’s degrees awarded—the lowest male share on record. Male enrollment in higher education continues declining. These trends aren’t about capability—they’re about connection. When young men don’t feel seen or valued in educational spaces, they check out not just from assignments but from the entire academic enterprise.
The ripple effects extend beyond individual students. Disengaged male students become disengaged professionals, less likely to participate in civic life, pursue continuing education, or develop emotional intelligence needed for healthy relationships and effective leadership. By focusing on relationship-building now, we’re not just improving test scores—we’re shaping future community members, partners, parents, and leaders.
My aim is straightforward yet ambitious: creating space where every student feels seen, believed in, and expected to engage fully. This means pairing rigor with relationship, high expectations with trust, and academic challenge with emotional support.
[RELATED: Everything I Was Told About Teaching Was BS]
The Real Measure
Implementation requires consistency and vulnerability. It means admitting when I don’t understand something, apologizing when I make mistakes, and showing students that learning is lifelong. It means creating a classroom culture where emotional awareness isn’t a weakness but a strength, where asking for help demonstrates wisdom, not inadequacy.
If done well, results won’t just appear in grades. They’ll manifest in learners—and people—students become after leaving my classroom. They’ll show in willingness to take intellectual risks, capacity for empathy, resilience in facing challenges, and ability to build meaningful relationships throughout life.
Education isn’t just transmitting knowledge; it’s developing whole humans capable of critical thinking, emotional intelligence, and meaningful contribution. When we commit to seeing and supporting whole students—especially those most at risk of disconnection—we don’t just improve academic outcomes. We change life trajectories.
That’s the real measure of our work as educators. Not the tests passed or papers written, but the confidence built, connections forged, and capacity for growth instilled. This semester, I’m committing to that deeper work, one student, one name, one relationship at a time.
Image by Gorodenkoff on Adobe Stock; Asset ID# 206335426
