The students who concern me the most are often the ones no one worries about—the ones acing every test, turning in every assignment on time, answering every question correctly, and behaving exactly as expected. Those are the easy students—the ones we wish filled our rosters every year. They strive to soar higher and higher academically. As educators, our natural response is often to increase academic rigor to help them reach even greater heights. But part of our job is to realize the danger of flying so close to the sun. The story of Icarus from Greek mythology shows what can happen when the desire to soar isn’t accompanied by the wisdom to navigate the heights.
While many of these students are not driven by the pride that caused Icarus’s downfall, they may still be inching closer and closer to an unseen danger. Simply challenging these students with increased rigor or additional assignments is like giving Icarus more tools to craft his beautiful wings, while failing to see the threat beyond the horizon. Academic rigor is necessary, but without careful guidance, it can create its own set of stumbling blocks—stress, distraction, trials, or even apathy—that can hinder, rather than strengthen, a student’s biblical worldview formation. When academic achievement becomes a student’s sole measure of success, those stumbling blocks become particularly concerning. Left unaddressed, they can gradually shape how students see themselves. They can ultimately connect their personal value to what they produce, seek security in performance, or view failure as a threat to identity.
I have spent the past eleven years educating students at the honors level. But it wasn’t until the past few years that I paused and considered that academic rigor might actually have a dark side. While rigor is often spoken of in a positive light, I’ve seen many ways it can negatively impact students:
- Breakdowns after missing only a few questions on a test
- Falling asleep in class because they stayed up all night preparing for multiple AP courses
- Compulsively calculating how a single grade will impact their overall GPA
Despite the worrisome behaviors, these students still manage to get the work done and do it well. If we overlook the tears, anxiety, and quiet exhaustion because the grades remain high, we miss the great opportunity to develop students with a healthy, maturing biblical worldview. These outward responses are symptoms of something deeper. They reveal hidden derailers quietly slowing the gears of worldview formation.
One of the greatest gifts we can offer these students is creating intentional space to slow down. Ironically, the students most committed to excellence are often the least likely to slow down on their own because they are already focused on the next assignment, the next test, or the next achievement. They rarely pause long enough to recognize that stress, comparison, or anxiety have quietly begun shaping the way they think and what they desire. That is why intentional mentorship and reflection matter. These are both essential components of the processing gear in the biblical worldview formation model. Academic rigor can naturally introduce stress, comparison, and trials into students’ lives.
But when we pair academic rigor with meaningful mentorship and reflection, we help students work through those challenges in ways that keep their biblical worldview formation moving forward.
In my classroom, one way I strategically incorporate these two aspects is by building conferences into long-term project days so I can sit down with each student individually. We certainly discuss academics during this time, but we also simply talk about life. How are you adjusting? What’s causing stress? How are relationships going? What extracurriculars are you participating in? These conferences serve as an opportunity for both direct mentorship and guided reflection. These conversations will assist educators in identifying the specific derailers impacting the student:
- Apathy
- Stress
- Distractions
- Trials
- Pain or suffering
Knowing the actual derailer makes our mentorship much more targeted. For instance, a student overwhelmed by stress may need help evaluating the expectations they have placed on themselves, while a student distracted by an overloaded schedule may need help renegotiating their extracurricular commitments. A student struggling through failure may simply need a trusted adult to help them see their experience through the lens of growth rather than performance.
These types of reflections aren’t just woven into mentoring conversations, but also into regular class time. Whether through journaling, classroom discussion, or simply setting aside a few quiet minutes at the beginning of class, students can pause and consider not just what they are learning, but who they are becoming along the way. For younger students, this reflection might be scaffolded through a simple survey or guided questions, while older students may be ready for more open-ended prompts.
Sometimes simply creating the space to slow down is enough to help students process the high demands of rigorous academics and remind them that they are valued for so much more than what they can produce.
Rigor without intentional guidance can unintentionally reinforce the very derailers of biblical worldview formation that we hope to avoid. If our only response to a student’s desire for excellence is simply “do more,” we may inadvertently shape their desires toward continual production and achievement. Instead, we want to turn their hearts toward a genuine desire to learn and live a life worthy of the calling they have received (Ephesians 4:1).
This is where Christian educators should turn back to that final reminder from the story of Icarus. The tragedy was not that Icarus had a lofty goal and developed wings to reach it. The real tragedy was that no one prepared him for the dangers of striving to soar so high. The same is true for our students. Their desire to reach for academic excellence is not something that we should diminish. But we need to consider it carefully. We want to help students build the wings to soar, while also helping them develop the wisdom to recognize the dangers that come with soaring so high. We want them to fly unhindered so they can appreciate God’s kingdom from the beautiful heights he enables them to reach.
By Jenna LaFlamme
Jenna LaFlamme serves as the Distinguished Scholars Program Director and an English Instructor at Houston Christian High School. She is passionate about helping students navigate the complex challenges they face throughout high school. Through teaching and mentorship, Jenna strives to ensure that students feel known, seen, and valued while helping them recognize that their identity extends far beyond their academic achievements and is ultimately rooted in Christ. Jenna lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and two children.