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When my children were in elementary school, we developed an afternoon routine for homework, snacks, and chats about events of the day that had just passed. There was little stress. The workload was small. And, because I am a teacher, I felt confident that I possessed the patience and strategies to help them navigate homework time with ease. I enjoyed spending those moments with my children, so naturally I looked forward to their high school years when they would be chemistry students.

The time since then has passed much more quickly than I could have imagined. Now, my older daughter is 16 and a high school junior. She is quite busy with all the sports, clubs, and rigorous coursework that intertwine at this time in a child’s life. Among the challenging courses in her schedule this year is AP Chemistry.

When this school year began, I was excited and proud that this was her choice. I envisioned evenings guiding her through practice free-response questions (FRQs), sharing study materials to prepare for midterm exams, and celebrating her successes as the course progressed. I was focused on what I could teach her about the content that I love and have taught to my students for the past 20 years. What I didn’t anticipate was how much I would learn as the parent of a chemistry student.

Lesson 1: Chemistry is hard.

It is easy for teachers to forget how well we know our content and how long we have spent mastering it, at least at the level we teach. There have been many times when I left school perplexed as to why students asked questions about topics I thought I had explained so clearly. I have wondered why my AP students scored lower than I’d expected on their equilibrium test. After all, I had articulated the importance of dimensional analysis at least a million times. In one semester. Why?

Because chemistry is hard. I know this because I have a brilliant daughter who sometimes struggles with the content. She asks questions and makes mistakes about topics I know she should have a handle on at this point. She isn’t being obtuse. She isn’t disinterested or disengaged. It just isn’t easy to tease out the difference between solubility and the solubility product equilibrium. The meaning of Gibbs Free Energy is difficult to articulate. Net ionic equations are tricky to master. And AP FRQs that assess learning can be notoriously long, containing multiple topics and requiring sustained concentration and recall. All of this is true for neurotypical students … so for those who are neurodivergent, like my child, this is all compounded by different brain chemistry.

So, from my daughter I have learned to be patient. When a student asks me a question I have answered already, I simply repeat or rephrase the answer. When I’m disappointed in test scores, I spiral back to topics that need more support. I arrive to school early in case someone needs extra help. It is the same kind of support I hope my daughter’s teachers give her.

Lesson 2: Students aren’t lazy. They’re overscheduled.

My perspective on student workload has changed while living with a high school student. My older daughter juggles five AP classes this year, believing that anything less will ensure her future rejection from any reputable university. As I walk sleepily to bed at night, I often find her sitting at the desk in our spare room, a dim light burning, as she toils away at her homework.

For years, I’ve overheard my students discussing their late-night study and homework sessions, and assumed this was probably a result of poor time management. Teenagers, as we know, have not fully developed the ability to plan ahead and to anticipate consequences. Now that I’ve observed a teenager working late first-hand, I know that late hours are far more often the result of too much to do and not enough hours in which to do it.

I have ruled out all the typical reasons for her challenges. I know that she doesn’t leave assignments until the night before they are due, and she uses her weekends to work ahead and spread out her assignments. I have personally spent several consecutive nights working steadily with her through a hefty packet of practice AP exam questions, so I know how she paces herself. And, if you’re thinking about her smartphone use, I can attest that she does put her phone aside when it’s time to focus on schoolwork. Like many of my students, she rises before dawn, spends the day at school, and dedicates hours to after-school activities. Her homework doesn’t begin until 8 or 9 p.m. and will drag long into the night. My daughter (like so many other students) will eat late, struggle to stay awake and do her best work, get too little sleep, and then do it all again the next day.

Seeing my daughter’s experience as a student this year has taught me compassion. When a student arrives to my class without completed homework or allows their eyelids to droop for a moment while I’m speaking, I may quietly check in, but I won’t “call them out.” They already know they are unprepared. They know they are tired. And they know why. I cannot help them by making them feel guilty or irresponsible, and I can’t change their schedules.

So, I focus on what I can do: I can help by making the most of my class time so that their workload at home is a little less, I can keep them engaged, and I can also be kind.

Lesson 3: Teacher feedback is powerful.

Watching my daughter’s experience this year has also shaped my perspective on how my behavior as a teacher affects my students’ opinions of themselves. Part of our jobs, as educators, is to give feedback to students on the quality of their work. We praise success and draw attention to errors. Tests with high scores are adorned with stickers. Good lab technique is applauded, and poor technique can warrant the teacher taking over and performing the task in place of the student. Top-performing students earn “mole bucks” as rewards. Those who do not perform to their potential are given a “pep talk.” We do this because we care, right?

Of course we do. But what I have learned from conversations with my own children is that the feedback a teacher gives to a student has power. For example, my daughter’s handwriting looks more like output from a heart monitor than actual words. It is very difficult to read. When her chemistry teacher suggested that she use voice-to-text support to answer the FRQs, my daughter was distraught because she believed that her teacher thought she wasn’t smart. Sure, it was a leap to draw that conclusion, but that single comment was enough to make my daughter doubt whether she could be successful in the course.

Once the teacher explained that she could tell my daughter knew the correct answers and deserved a good grade for her test performance, however, my daughter’s perspective shifted. Her teacher believed in her. Since then, my daughter and her teacher have built a good rapport. The teacher supports my daughter’s 504 plan with fidelity, and gives her challenging problems to do because she thinks my daughter might enjoy them.

In my opinion, my daughter’s teacher has played an important role in her plan to study science in college. Students perceive both approval and disappointment in our faces, our tone, our comments in progress reports, and our course recommendations. From what I’ve observed with my children, what students perceive becomes part of their self-identity, something they carry with them far longer than the content we teach.

So, this year has reminded me of the importance of showing my students how to find the best in themselves. I am remembering why I need to let them make mistakes, while also convincing them that they have the ability to correct those mistakes as part of learning. I am finding ways to identify and highlight students’ best qualities and to share with them different things I can imagine for their future. I want them to take something positive from their year in my classroom and incorporate it into their self-identity in a way that leaves them feeling capable, competent, and full of potential.

Soon, my older daughter will be off to college, and my younger daughter will be a sophomore, enrolling in her first chemistry course. I wonder if her teacher will appreciate the time she dedicates to her classes, and if they will know the sacrifices my daughter will make to study for exams and to complete lab reports, because she cares deeply about her performance. I wonder if they will know how their comments and feedback shape the value she sees in herself.

Maybe these are lessons all teachers learn as they navigate this career, but I know that seeing my own children through the eyes of both a teacher and a parent has taught me in ways that my long classroom experience had not. So, if you have children of your own, I encourage you to learn from their school experiences. Be the teacher you want your own children to have. It will leave you with a combination of understanding and empathy that just might breathe new life into your career — and that means so much.

In this issue of Chemistry Solutions, read about teachers who are integrating their passions into effective classroom strategies.

• South Carolina teacher Anna Mullinax shares how her interest in antique uranium glass led her to bring various samples from her own collection into two different content units throughout the year, allowing students to explore various phenomena through questioning and inquiry.
• California teacher Christopher Navarrete recalls how he often found himself seeking ways to help his students make sense of the intangible topics of chemistry. So, when he realized that 3D printing could be a solution to some of his struggles, that was the motivation he needed to jump in and figure out how to use this technology that had long intrigued him.
• Minnesota teacher Jason Just shares his “Be the YouTuber” approach to formative assessment. Knowing that today’s students are natural creators of online and social media content, he leverages this media familiarity to teach students how to use screen casting technology to succinctly explain what they know.
• New Jersey teacher Petra van’t Slot tells the story of how she became a teacher, by way of a chemical technician job that still inspires many lessons she creates for her chemistry and biology students.
• Download the March Chem Fun activity, Don’t Say It!, for a fun way for students to review concepts in your gases unit.
• Check out our new Acid-Base Titration Simulation! Try one of the provided lessons, or create your own, to give your students as much practice as you’d like in performing calculations related to titrations. If you have a great idea for developing a unique lesson using this simulation, submit it and earn a $200 gift card if selected for publishing in the AACT Classroom Resource Library.
• In Dear Labby, a teacher asks about safe and effective ways to clean away the oxidation and stuck-on chemical spills that prevent lab burners from working properly.



Shannon Smith
AACT President-elect
2025–2026