From Eighth Grade to Law School

The Progress You Don’t See Yet

There’s a student I’ve worked with on and off since he was in 8th grade. He’s in law school now.

When he was younger, we had a running joke between us. I would say something once. Nothing.
I’d say it a second time. Still nothing.
By the third time, he’d look at me, smile, and finally say, “Ohhh… okay.”

It wasn’t defiance.
It wasn’t disinterest.
It was a developing executive function system doing its best with the demands placed in front of it.

Back then, things felt hard. Really hard. Initiation was slow. Follow-through was inconsistent. Systems that worked for others didn’t stick for him. And if you’d asked any adult in his life at the time whether the work was “working,” the answer might have been a hesitant shrug.

Because progress didn’t look like progress yet.

A parent reaches out, clearly overwhelmed and doing their best to advocate for their child. They ask thoughtful questions about coaching, about support, about next steps.

And then they ask the question that shifts the conversation:

“How long will my child need to be in coaching?”

As the call continues, it becomes clear that what they’re really asking is this:

“How quickly can you fix this?”

If you work closely with families, you’ve likely had this conversation too. And not just once. Often many times, sometimes with the same family.

Pause for the science

Executive functions don’t develop all at once, and they don’t develop in a straight line. They mature over time, in layers, shaped by the brain’s neurological development, experience, stress, and environment.

Skills like initiation, working memory, and cognitive flexibility often lag behind expectations, especially in adolescence, when demands increase faster than the brain’s ability to manage them. What looks like resistance or lack of effort is often a system still learning how to coordinate itself.

And here’s the part we often miss:
practice today is building capacity for tomorrow, even when today looks messy.

Back then, when I said things three times, we weren’t just repeating instructions. We were strengthening awareness, processing speed, and trust. We were laying groundwork that wouldn’t fully show itself for years.

Back to the story

Things didn’t magically click in high school. Or even right away in college. But during his undergraduate years, something shifted. Not overnight, and not because we suddenly found the “right” strategy.

His system had more capacity.
He had more insight.
And he had years of experiences to draw from.

Now, as a law student, he reflects on those early years differently. He sees the connection between the support he received then and the independence he has now, even though at the time, neither of us could have predicted where he’d land.

That’s the part of progress we don’t always see in the moment.

So if you’re in a season where the work feels repetitive, slow, or unclear, this is your reminder:
progress isn’t always visible when it’s happening.

Sometimes it shows up years later, in confidence, resilience, and the quiet realization that something did, in fact, change.

You just couldn’t see it yet.