The Red Flags We Miss When Students Are Actually Struggling
February is often when executive function is tested the most.
The work gets harder, expectations increase, and energy quietly drops.
What shows up first isn’t failure. It’s small cracks in systems that had been working.
There’s something I notice every year around this time.
It’s not big blowups.
It’s not sudden failure.
It’s not even obvious struggle.
It’s the small things.
The things that are easy to dismiss because, on their own, they don’t seem alarming.
I was reminded of this recently with a high school student I’ve worked with for years. Over the past year in particular, she has been doing very well. Strong grades. Good insight. Consistent follow-through. The kind of progress that makes you feel confident that the systems in place are working.
Then a few small things started to show up.
It began with an email from school saying she wasn’t able to finish an exam because her laptop hadn’t been charged. Not a crisis. But a pause moment.
Around the same time, we started having trouble meeting. One week there was a time mix-up. The next week, Wi-Fi issues. The following week, she technically had a second computer, but it wasn’t ready to go.
So before our next session, I asked her to make sure both devices were set up. A simple backup plan. Nothing new. Nothing complicated.
When we were scheduled to meet at 5:00, I received a message saying it was taking longer than expected to connect, so she was going to wait a few more minutes before switching devices. I asked her to go ahead and switch since our time was limited.
When she did, there was no sound. No camera. And before that, she had asked me to resend the meeting link to a different email address, something she could have handled herself if both computers had been ready.
Then came the final moment that made everything click.
She has a major sophomore-year project she’s been working on. When I asked for the updated due date, she had no idea when it was.
None of these things, on their own, are alarming.
Together, they tell a story.
A Pause from an Executive Function Lens
This is often how executive function strain shows up first.
Not as refusal.
Not as lack of effort.
Not as “not caring.”
But as small breakdowns in systems that used to work.
Charging devices.
Tracking dates.
Switching plans when something goes wrong.
Anticipating what might be needed next.
When cognitive load increases and energy drops, executive function doesn’t fail loudly. It frays quietly.
And here’s the part that matters most: students are often the last ones to notice.
From the outside, it looks like forgetfulness or poor planning.
From the inside, it feels like things are just… harder.
Harder to get started.
Harder to stay ahead.
Harder to notice that you’re overwhelmed before you already are.
Back to the Story
What worries me isn’t that this student is “struggling” in the traditional sense.
It’s that she may be overwhelmed and not yet aware of it.
And that’s often where February lives.
The work is heavier.
The expectations are higher.
ThThis is the moment where support doesn’t need to escalate, but it does need to shift.
More awareness.
More backup plans.
More protection of systems that reduce load.
Because when we catch these moments early, they don’t turn into crises.
They turn into course corrections.
And that’s exactly what executive function support is meant to do.
The systems that carried students through fall are being stretched.
This is the moment where support doesn’t need to escalate, but it does need to shift.
More awareness.
More backup plans.
More protection of systems that reduce load.
Because when we catch these moments early, they don’t turn into crises.
They turn into course corrections.
And that’s exactly what executive function support is meant to do.
Shortly after writing this article, I learned that the student I was thinking about was also experiencing mental health challenges, reinforcing just how important it is to notice the quieter red flags.
