Trust in the Classroom

By Helya Sehat​
PhD Student in Planning, Governance, and Globalization in the School of Public and International Affairs (SPIA), Virginia Tech.
​Participant of the Fall 2025 Compassionate STEM cohort.​

​Trust, for me, has become something I think about much more intentionally over the past few years. Early in my teaching, I assumed that if I was prepared, knowledgeable, and fair, trust would naturally follow. What I’ve learned is that trust is built in much smaller, quieter ways, and sometimes lost just as quietly.

Photograph by Helya Sehat of the class she teaches

​I think about trust when I show up to class a few minutes early and stay afterward if students want to talk. I think about it when I return graded work on time, especially during busy weeks when it would be easier to delay. If I expect students to meet deadlines, I feel a responsibility to meet mine as well. When I fall behind, which does happen during intense research or grading periods, I try to communicate clearly rather than silently extend the timeline. I have realized that silence can feel like unpredictability to students, and unpredictability weakens trust.

I struggle most with non-judgment when students disengage without explanation. When attendance drops or assignments come in late with no communication, I feel the tension between compassion and accountability. Part of me wonders whether my flexibility is being taken for granted. Another part of me reminds myself that I do not always know what is happening in their lives. I am still learning how to hold both firmness and generosity at the same time.

I also think about integrity in how I talk about rigor. If I say that confusion is part of learning, then I have to respond patiently when students express that confusion. If I say that revision matters, then I need to design assignments that actually reward growth. Students notice when words and structures don’t align.

One of the simplest ways I try to build trust is by saying, “It’s okay not to know yet.” In STEM courses, especially those dealing with systems or technical analysis, students can feel exposed when they don’t understand something immediately. I try to normalize that discomfort rather than rush past it. I want students to feel that asking a question will not lower their standing in the room.

Trust in the classroom, I am learning, is less about big gestures and more about consistency. It is built in how I respond to mistakes, theirs and mine, and in whether my actions match my stated values. It takes time. And it requires ongoing attention.