Years ago, Staples had a commercial for the start of the school year that always seemed to come too early in the summer; if you’re of a certain age, you’ll remember it. A father, dancing through the aisles of the store with a cart buying school supplies while “It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year” played…his children walking solemnly behind him.
For me, even as a kid, the start of school was always exciting in its way: new supplies, new schedules, new teachers, new routines. As a parent, it also includes figuring out when we all need to get up to get to school on time. The transition is exciting and fun, if not somewhat sad that all the free time is over. In some ways its the end of a story and in others it is the origin story of a new adventure and the opportunity to be the hero of a new story.
For students who receive learning supports, accommodations, testing supports, or other educational services, there is another transition happening at the same time. As students get older, we ask them to manage more—more teachers, more assignments, more tests, more projects, more activities, (hopefully) more friendships, (certainly) more family responsibilities, and their own learning needs. At almost precisely the same moment that everything becomes more complicated, adults start telling them they need to become more independent.
We expect, all too often, that the independence we expect comes naturally, like a growth spurt. A student has their birthday and CLICK, they are suddenly capable of more.
Independence, like most other aspects of maturity, isn’t a switch. It develops through a long series of successes and failures. Students make good plans and bad ones. They remember things and forget them. They ask for help at the right time and, occasionally, after the proverbial building is already on fire.
This is the learning process, and everyone learns more from failure than from success.
Research on organizational interventions supports explicitly teaching skills like planning, time management, organization, and homework management rather than simply expecting students to figure them out. In other words, telling a student to “be more organized” isn’t much of an intervention. If organization is a collection of skills, we actually have to teach those skills.
So what can families do to support–truly any student–those especially at risk for struggling through these increased demands?
Look no further than the pages of adventure and fantasy for good lessons on this. By adopting these steps, you can support your student to being the hero of their own story and having a super year—no matter what struggles or successes they have.
1. Be Like Iron Man: Know Your Tools
Tony Stark was brilliant before he puts on the Iron Man armor. The suit doesn’t make him smarter or more talented. It gives him tools that allow him to do things he couldn’t do as effectively without it. Without the armor, Tony is a genius, he’s charming, he’s resourceful, and he’s incredibly wealthy. With the suit all those skills are filtered into flight, strength, AI analysis, and allows him to shoot lasers or fly into space. The suit augments his abilities and gives him the leg up to contend with heavy hitters like Thor.
I think this is a useful way to understand accommodations.
Extended time, reduced-distraction settings, assistive technology, directions broken into manageable steps, organizational check-ins, and other supports aren’t designed to make the work easier. They address barriers that might prevent a student from accessing the work or demonstrating what they know.
But simply knowing that you have supports isn’t enough. Understanding when, how, and why to use those supports to balance your talents, abilities and struggles is key.
There is a difference between:
“I get extended time.”
and:
“I sometimes need additional time to organize my thinking and finish my responses.”
Is similar to Tony Stark knowing he needed to invent the armor in the first place to escape his captors.
The first student knows something about their educational program. The second is beginning to understand themselves as a learner.
Families can help by asking: What does this support help you do? When does it help? How do you know when you need it?
Eventually, we want students to move from having accommodations, to understanding them, to taking greater ownership of using them appropriately.
Iron Man knows what’s in the suit.
Our students should know what’s in theirs.
2. Be Like Hermione: Use Your Voice To Succeed
Hermione Granger is usually one of the most prepared people at Hogwarts. She’s willing to raise her hand when she knows and will find out the information she needs to move forward.
Again.
And again.
And again.
There’s an important lesson there. Being capable doesn’t mean staying silent when you need information or help.
“Self-advocacy” sounds complicated, but it often begins with very ordinary sentences:
“Could you explain that another way?”
“I’m not sure where to start.”
“I think I’m getting behind. What should I prioritize?”
The student recognizes that something isn’t working, identifies what they need, and communicates that need. This is the start of the kind of self-advocacy that serves kids their whole lives—and leads them to being the Minister of Magic someday.
Some students naturally know what to say. Others need to practice it. Families can rehearse these conversations before they’re necessary. A student might practice a question with a parent before approaching a teacher, and eventually handle routine communication independently while knowing that adult support remains available when it’s actually needed.
Confidence doesn’t come from suddenly knowing what to say in a stressful situation. It comes from having practiced beforehand and with support from parents in every setting from asking for help on a project to getting a time turner to defeat He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.
3. Be Like Batman: Prepare Before the Crisis
Whenever someone asks who can beat Batman, there’s always some nerd who needs the qualifier “With or without prep time”. All Marysue arguments about Batman aside, being able to outthink the next situation is what makes him formidable as a mortal against the likes of Darkseid.
If large projects consistently become overwhelming, don’t wait until the night before they’re due to break them into smaller pieces. If a reduced-distraction environment helps with testing, don’t wait for the biggest test of the year to become comfortable using it. If an organizational check-in helps, don’t wait until there are six missing assignments.
Supports work best when they become familiar tools rather than emergency procedures. Once students know what they are, they need to know when to use them, how to use them, and where to get them.
We want students moving away from:
“I’ll try without the support first and use it if things go badly.”
Toward:
“I know which conditions help me do my best work.”
Students need to know what supports are available, why they exist, when they’re useful, and how to access them. This is their utility belt, full of all the forward thinking gadgets they need to overcome the big bad guy. They need to practice in the Batcave, at their desk, and in the classroom to ensure that they are the best in the world when the situation arises–like The Dark Knight.
Practice the strategy before the pressure.
Don’t wait for the Bat-Signal to prepare for the villains.
4. Remember: You Are Not Multiple Man
Jamie Madrox, Marvel’s Multiple Man, can create multiple versions of himself. He can be in several places, a fully formed and autonomous copy of himself, and later reabsorb that copy and maintain memories of everything the dupe did. Ah, to be a The Multiple Man as a student.
One version could go to practice. Another could study for tomorrow’s test. A third could start Friday’s essay. Another could attend the family event. And presumably one could stay on the couch playing video games. Then you gather yourself together and you had the best, most productive day ever.
Alas, even the most organized of us can only be in one place at a time. Task paralysis and feeling overwhelmed by the size of a project are very real and sometimes, our students have no idea how to express it.
There is only one of them, and until we can figure out how to photocopy ourselves, families need to move beyond:
“What homework do you have tonight?”
and start asking:
“Where does this week get tight?”
Students aren’t just managing homework. They’re managing tests, projects, activities, family commitments, friendships, sleep, and downtime—all within the same finite number of hours.
Once a week, spend five or ten minutes looking at the whole picture. Where are responsibilities competing for time? What needs to start earlier? Where might help be needed?
And then ask the most important question:
“What do you think your plan should be?”
If adults identify every conflict, create the schedule, break down every assignment, and issue every reminder, we may have created an excellent plan but we haven’t necessarily taught the student to plan. It’s the old “teach a man to fish” situation.
The student needs to increasingly become the planner, not simply the person following somebody else’s plan.
You get one you.
Plan accordingly–unless you’re Jaime Madrox.
5. Learn From Spider-Man: Make Room for More Than School
Few superheroes have worse work-life balance than Peter Parker. Do I go to eat at Aunt May’s or stop Dr. Octopus from robbing the bank? Should I see Mary Jane’s play or do I save the mayor from Green Goblin? Am I Peter…or am I Spidey?
Peter’s problem usually isn’t that he doesn’t care enough. Too many things that genuinely matter are competing for the same limited time.
That should sound familiar, especially to Middle and High School students.
Students are learners, but they’re still children. They have to prioritize life beyond their assignments. Sleep matters. Friendships matter. Exercise, hobbies, family, sports, community activities, and opportunities to decompress matter.
Those things aren’t prizes students earn after completing school. They’re parts of growing up emotionally, academically, and physically.
The mantra of “school first, then squeeze everything else into whatever time remains” will fail the child in the end.
Instead: How do I manage my responsibilities so they can coexist and I don’t burn out?
That might mean studying Wednesday because practice is Thursday, or starting a project Friday because there are plans Saturday.
That’s not avoiding responsibility.
That’s learning to manage responsibility.
The Real Superpower: Supported Independence
There is one more piece, and this one is for the adults.
We’re usually better at solving children’s problems than they are. We can create the plan, send the email, remember the deadline, and organize the materials faster.
That doesn’t always mean we should.
Instead of “Did you finish everything?” ask, “What’s your plan?” Instead of “Why didn’t you ask for help?” ask, “How will you know when you need help next time?” And before saying “Let me fix this,” try “What do you think the next step should be?”
Every one of these questions creates a small opportunity to think, plan, problem-solve, and make decisions. Over time, our role changes too. At first, we may be managers. We organize, remind, communicate, and solve. Then we become coaches. We ask questions, practice strategies, and help students develop their own plans.
Eventually, we become consultants. Students increasingly take the lead while knowing we’re still available when they genuinely need us. This progression isn’t perfectly linear. Students will succeed, fail, move forward, and occasionally need us to step back in.
That’s okay. The more we become the safety net, the sooner our acrobatic heroes learn to fly without us.
Our job isn’t to suddenly remove support in the name of independence. It’s to gradually change where we stand—sometimes in front, showing them how; sometimes beside them, helping them practice; and eventually a few steps behind, still available but giving them enough room to discover what they can do for themselves.
The goal isn’t immediate independence. It’s increasing independence.
No capes required.