In recent years, mental health has become a main presence in our lives, and academia presents no exception. A large percentage of college professors have interacted with students affected by anxiety, depression, distress, and difficulty staying on task. Teachers’ capability to address these issues is becoming paramount for student success, but in many cases we do not feel equipped to do so. Despite our willingness to help students, professors are not usually trained mental health professionals, and conflicting feelings arise when it comes to being proactive and taking an actual step forward, preventing a comfortable and safe response. The fear of saying something inappropriate or taking the wrong step is real, and many times we feel not just inadequate, but also powerless and disoriented.

As faculty facing this persistent situation, some questions keep whirling in our heads. When is it normal to feel stressed or anxious, and when does that become a mental health issue? How can we talk with our students in a way that acknowledges and respects their situation while holding them accountable for their actions? What is the fine line between helping students with flexible policies and lowering the quality of their learning? While we as teachers are not a substitute for medical personnel, implementing specific course policies, honest communication, and basic psychology can go a long way.

Students mention stress and anxiety so frequently that it is clear these feelings have become pervasive presences in their lives. Recognizing the real nature of stress and accepting the positive aspects of anxiety may help shed new light on the issue, putting things in a different perspective. Stress is an emotional and mental state resulting from the accumulation of one or more stressors. Therefore, stress is not a cause, but a consequence, and whereas it seems an invisible enemy impossible to fight, stressors are evident, smaller, and consequently easier to face. Knowing that the overwhelming mood we perceive as stress is created by individual stressors allows us to identify and remove—or at least manage—each of them. This work may take time and require patience, but such awareness should leave us and our students empowered.

Anxiety is commonly perceived as a negative factor, but we may discover that, when present in an appropriate amount, it is a positive, working as a catalyst for an adaptive process. Motivation to change is often correlated with a healthy dose of anxiety, and in-depth studies show its benefits. Thus, the goal should not be how to eliminate anxiety, but how to manage it. Promoting a culture where anxiety is portrayed as a negative factor prevents students from learning how to tackle unpleasant situations and become emotionally mature.

As teachers, we can also help our students apply some foundational principles of cognitive behavioral therapy. Many times, a person’s state of mind is amplified by negative thoughts—not always adherent to reality—that play an excessive role. Having a better perception of ourselves and the context we operate in can be achieved through an analytical process called cognitive restructuring, articulated in five simple steps. The first step is to identify negative thoughts, followed by the next two in which we are asked to find evidence to confirm and to discredit them. In the fourth step we examine the new evidence, and in the last step we are called to rewrite our thoughts according to it. Even without being psychotherapists, sharing this strategy with our students—and applying it in our own lives—may be a successful way to positively change thoughts and behaviors.

Students are successful when they meet their learning goals, but without mental and physical health, their efforts rarely lead to a positive outcome. A teacher’s job can only be accomplished if both well-being and learning are present. More and more frequently, teachers are asked to adjust their teaching to students’ needs through accommodations and flexible policies, and in aiming to achieve a new balance, they may feel they have to choose between being understanding and lowering their expectations and the quality of the learning experience.

More inclusive course policies—including implementation of flexible attendance and deadlines, in addition to productive use of office hours—can respond to students’ difficulties to stay on task without compromising the quality of instruction. Not having mandatory attendance seems hazardous at first. I noticed two positive changes in semesters when I did not require attendance: most students behaved more responsibly, and I was more capable of keeping track of those who struggled. The way I managed this new situation was quite simple. At the beginning of the semester, I told students I would not give extra points for attendance and also would not deduct points or assign extra work for missed classes. I told them that, regardless of their absences, I would hold them accountable for their results, and at the same time I kept track of their attendance so I could pair it with their test grades. What they immediately noticed was, in most cases, a correlation between the two, and the lack of penalty points made it even more obvious. If a student could thrive without attending classes, I was fine with that: they did not need to be there and I could actually focus more on those who needed extra help. However, if the results were poor, they quickly realized how important it was to attend. We know that progress is not always linear, so I was fine with having flexible deadlines and dividing tasks into smaller units, but I made it clear that, although there were no penalties for late submissions, there was also no leniency in grading nor easier tests, and flexible deadlines did not mean flexible expectations.

A major change happened in the way I envisioned office hours. Instead of waiting for students to come to me when problems arose—which usually happens later than they are willing to acknowledge—I sought students out first. Every week I communicated my available times, reminded students that they could schedule an appointment in case they had a class conflict, and set regular meetings with those who needed me the most. The results were terrific. Those who could not legitimately attend class took advantage of this opportunity to catch up, and those who tried to hide by not attending ended up having dedicated, one-on-one time with me. Not showing up in either setting meant admitting they did not care or recognizing they were not in the right headspace to succeed in the class. As their teacher, I knew I had done everything in my power to help them.

The number of students with mental health issues is on the rise and cannot be ignored. Cases need to be evaluated on an individual basis, but having a “first-aid kit” that we can use as teachers is helpful, providing us with basic tools to deal with a relatively new situation. Incorporating flexibility that does not compromise the quality of learning and finding time to meet with our students regularly are effective approaches, but we should not forget to promote a culture where challenges are seen as opportunities to grow, difficulties are viewed as part of everyday life, and uncertainties are considered stages of the human journey.