When Kai Selmes started his undergraduate degree in 2012, he never imagined it would take more than a decade to graduate. It wasn’t that he lacked the ability to succeed academically, but he faced setbacks in mental and physical health, family and finances. Things only turned around once he realized determination alone wasn’t enough and he started reaching out to U of T people and programs dedicated to supporting struggling students. Today, Selmes is months away from graduating, applying to master’s programs and telling his story in hopes of showing other students that it’s possible to recover.

“There were times when I thought graduating wasn’t in the cards for me,” says Selmes, a political science specialist at New College. His first year was rocky academically and socially. Transitioning from a small, alternative high school to huge lecture courses left him feeling disconnected and anxious. He stopped attending tutorials. “When the semester gets going, it goes fast,” he says. “And if you’re not on that train you get left behind.” After dropping four of five first-year courses, Selmes left U of T with the intention of taking one year off.

That pause grew to seven years due to fear and avoidance, he says. “I had a feeling of not being ready and a need to get it right this time. I knew I ultimately wanted to work in international relations, but I was doing jobs that didn’t challenge or inspire me. I was in a state of inaction, but I still hoped to return to school, however slowly.”

Virtual learning suited him when he went back during the pandemic because he felt anxious about being around students again, but returning to in-person classes disrupted his progress. The age gap with his peers heightened his sense of being an outsider, and he began drinking to cope. After his stepfather died, he stopped going to class altogether.

“His death made me lose any semblance of self-control or functioning in the world,” says Selmes. “I continued to drink and isolate, and was very much like, ‘Next week, I’ll go. Next week.’ I didn’t know how to ask for help or how to seek resources, and I didn’t feel like I deserved help.”

Then, partly through his alcohol addiction recovery process, he began to believe that he was worthy of assistance. Eventually, he met with an academic advisor at New College who suggested he reduce his course load, connect with Accessibility Services and Health and Wellness, and find ways to re-engage with university life.

Selmes joined a morning workout class on campus, started attending lectures and events in his department, went to his professors’ office hours for the first time and took two courses in Europe this past summer through the Centre for International Experience. “I got where I am now by starting off again more slowly with supports and asking for guidance,” he says.

Programs that make a difference

As a university invested in students’ success, U of T has created a network of support that encourages students to be kind to themselves when they encounter failure, whether that means failing an exam or a course, or being put on academic probation or suspension. The aim isn’t to gloss over their performance, but to help students reflect on what went wrong, build resilience and new skills, and consider the impact of pervasive cultural, family and social pressures to excel academically.

“Our message is that university learning is hard, failure and setbacks are inevitable, and students can access resources when they need to,” says Rahul Bhat, the resilience program lead at the Centre for Learning Strategy Support on the St. George campus. The centre’s learning strategists provide one-on-one appointments and group programs focused on study skills, productivity and well-being.

Academic resilience hubs at the three campuses work closely with registrars, academic advisors, accessibility advisors, faculty members and health and wellness staff, often drawing on a trusted connection to make a “warm referral” between services. While most students on probation or suspension automatically receive information about academic recovery programs, Bhat says those feeling overwhelmed or at risk of failing can also receive personalized guidance.

U of T is among many universities now promoting the message that failure is central to learning, but it’s a relatively new approach. As a highly ranked global institution, U of T attracts students accustomed to excelling academically. When they struggle, they often react as Selmes once did: retreating, blaming themselves and trying to get back on track on their own. Changing entrenched ideas about failure, those working in academic recovery acknowledge, remains a work in progress.

Fiona Rawle, a biology professor, teaching stream, at U of T Mississauga, is helping lead that change. She directs the Failure Learning in Progress project, which provides research and classroom resources on failure. Rawle is a longtime advocate of a “pedagogy of kindness,” a teaching method grounded in mutual respect where professors reveal their own academic vulnerabilities to students.

She tells her students about an alarmingly low mark she once received on an organic chemistry test. “Efforts to reframe failure for students only work when we’re connecting and building relationships,” says Rawle. “That’s why the work of advisors and learning strategists with individual students creates huge change.”

It’s also why group programs for students who have experienced academic difficulties are powerful. They give students tangible evidence that they’re not alone. “Students often locate their academic problems in themselves and the solutions solely in themselves,” says Bhat. “They tend to think, ‘I’m not cut out for university.’ And they assume that everybody else is doing well. Both of these beliefs lead to avoidance, emotional burnout and isolation and prevent students from reaching out for academic support.”

In group programs such as Learning Well in First Year or online workshops like Course Correction, students hear from upper-year students who’ve faced similar challenges, which can reduce stigma and shame.

Peer mentors and community

Aliah, a third-year student in civil engineering, remembers how isolating it felt to fail one course in her first semester. “I thought that because I was in engineering at U of T, I should be doing well. I was scared of disappointing friends and family,” she says. “I felt like I had no one to talk to about it.”

She participated in the T-Program at the Faculty of Applied Science and Engineering, which allows first-year students who struggle in the fall term to repeat or defer up to three courses and provides in-person group sessions led by learning strategists and older students. Aliah (a pseudonym) now volunteers in the T-Program herself. “I like being a mentor and reminding students that failing a course isn’t the end of the world,” she says.

Peer mentors are integral to the university’s academic recovery programs. “The upper-year students are very vulnerable in talking about their experiences, which builds community across the group,” says Lindsay Mason, co-lead of the ArriveUTSC program at U of T Scarborough.

At U of T Mississauga, Linda Duong, who leads the Promoting Academic Skills for Success program, says peer mentors help students navigate their way back – connecting them with campus resources, planning next steps and giving them room to talk through what happened in earlier courses and how to approach things differently. “Students really warm up to that.”

Evidence of impact

Many academic resilience programs collect data to assess the effectiveness of their interventions. “We measure students’ depression, anxiety, self-efficacy and thriving before and after our programs, and we see improvements in pretty much every area,” says Mason. This holistic approach also translates into improved grades. A 2023 report found that a significant number of students on academic probation who complete the ArriveUTSC program achieved good standing the next semester.

Still, even successful support programs don’t work for everyone. Not every student rebounds. And despite these efforts, failure continues to spark fear and shame in many students. Universities can’t ignore this, says Rawle, who emphasizes that not all students have the same resources to bounce back from failure.

We can’t just tell students that failure is good. We have to back that up with structural support and concrete practices.”

“We need classroom conversations about power and privilege, and whether students have the money, time and family backing to see failure as an opportunity. We can’t just tell students that failure is good. We have to back that up with structural support and concrete practices.” In her classes, Rawle’s students can do written reflections on the test questions that stumped them to earn a slightly higher grade.

Nobody chooses academic failure, says Rawle, but it happens in some way to most students, so it’s important to find community and safety in sharing failure. “Some failure is about bad luck or missteps, but there are a whole bunch of failures related to figuring things out and growing that we can celebrate in university learning.”

Looking back, neither Selmes nor Aliah have regrets; the bumps on their academic paths gave them insights and skills they believe will serve them well. Most of all, they feel empathy for other struggling students and value the chance to make these inevitable hurdles less distressing for them. “My biggest message is to be kind to yourself instead of approaching yourself with condemnation,” says Selmes. “I hope my story makes space for that.”