The fallacy of AP courses

Pushing kids into classes they aren't ready for affects a school's entire ecosystem.

Originally published in the Moultrie News.

My daughter is in ninth grade, and I’m already being encouraged to enroll her in Advanced Placement courses. I worry about her stress. Is it too much, too soon? I also have the feeling that the school is selling AP classes, especially since her friend, who is significantly behind her academically, is being pushed to take them too. What’s going on?

AP (Advanced Placement) courses are high school classes designed to resemble college courses. They’re taught by high school teachers, follow guidelines set by the College Board, and usually end with a standardized exam that may earn students college credit or placement, depending on the university.

College courses are challenging enough in college; they require a level of maturity, independence, and cognitive endurance that even smart ninth graders have not developed. Presumably, then, AP enrollment should be (and once was) limited to the most elite students. So why the push? Who benefits from high AP enrollment?

High schools benefit because they appear stronger to parents and universities by suggesting a college-like culture. High enlistment can improve national rankings on lists of top high schools. It also brings the attractive equity optics of broader enrollment demographics that schools covet.

Parents benefit, too. There’s pride in saying your child is taking college classes in high school, and many parents assume AP courses improve college admissions prospects (though good grades in rigorous non-AP courses do that, too).

The College Board benefits financially. Each AP exam costs around $100, and more students means more revenue. Though the organization is nonprofit, it employs many well-compensated professionals whose livelihoods depend on the program’s growth.

All of those incentives neatly align except for one group I didn’t mention: students. Why not?

The College Board provides course frameworks, but schools ultimately control instruction. That flexibility means AP rigor can vary widely across the board. When a class is filled with students not developmentally ready for college-level expectations, teachers face a dilemma: maintain rigor and fail several students, or dilute it and inflate GPAs.

Many schools choose the second option because principals don’t want AP courses perceived as punitive and parents push back against low grades. Plus, it’s GPA — not individual course rigor — that drives college admissions outcomes.

That dilution affects a school’s entire ecosystem. As schools push more kids into AP, it leaves weaker students in honors or accelerated courses, and those in so-called college prep courses are left even further behind — all of them facing the same rigor dilemma. That’s how schools end up giving away empty diplomas.

Students take the hit. Kids pushed into genuine AP rigor too early experience unnecessary anxiety. Those placed into watered-down versions develop an inflated sense of achievement. Even the kids who are ready suffer when classes are padded to accommodate weaker students.

I know a highly curious, high-achieving junior who noticed her AP teacher spending more time on fluff than instruction. Worried about the exam, she began meeting with friends at another school to compare notes. She was one of few in her class to earn a passing score.

This isn’t to suggest that all AP courses are headed off a cliff. Most remain excellent and demanding, and for the right student, at the right time, with the right teacher, they can be transformative. But if schools continue to pack large numbers of unready students into AP, that quality is at risk.

Parents should also know that AP credit isn’t universally useful. Many colleges — including Harvard, Yale, and Princeton — either restrict AP credit or use it only for placement. And a number of AP courses won’t replace required college classes at all, but are only accepted as electives. That may not matter to some students, but for others it means sacrificing actual college electives — often the most exploratory and least stressful part of a degree.

Stress deserves serious consideration. At their best, APs are challenging and time-consuming. Taking too many can, over time, contribute to a mental health disaster. Some students thrive under that pressure; many eventually burn out.

So should a 14-year-old jump into AP courses early and often? I’d say only if they’re genuinely ready for sustained college-level expectations without sacrificing curiosity, health, or joy.

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Jody Stallings has been an award-winning teacher in Charleston since 1992 and is director of the Charleston Teacher Alliance. To submit a question, order his books, or follow him on social media, please visit JodyStallings.com.