Accountability, growth, and a way forward.
There is something worth celebrating in an education system that says how we treat people matters. Academic achievement deserves recognition, and so does the way a young person contributes to the lives of others. We should want students to leave school with knowledge they can use and habits that help people feel safe, respected, and able to learn alongside them. Both belong in our understanding of success.
That is what interests me in South Korea’s decision to give school-violence records a place in university admissions. Reporting in November 2025 described applicants rejected because of those records during the 2025 admissions cycle. Beginning with 2026 admissions, universities are required to consider school-violence records. That requirement is not an automatic, universal ban on admission.
The principle is worth taking seriously. Strong academic performance should not make harmful behavior invisible. A school community depends on how its members treat one another, and students deserve to know that their well-being matters even when the person hurting them is academically successful.
The question I keep coming back to is this: What would it look like to take responsibility as seriously as achievement, while taking young people’s capacity to change just as seriously?
For me, redemption belongs at the center of that conversation. If we believe in learning, we have to believe that people can learn to behave differently. A young person who has caused harm needs a genuine opportunity to understand it, accept responsibility, and build a different pattern of behavior. Earning trust can become some of the most important learning that student ever does.
That opportunity needs substance. Adults can help students recognize the impact of their actions, practice healthier responses, and follow through on commitments over time. Repair, where it is possible and appropriate, should respond to the harm rather than serve as a performance for an application. An apology may be a beginning. The evidence of growth is in what happens afterward, especially when there is no immediate reward for doing the right thing.
South Korea’s existing framework includes some opportunities for education and review. Official guidance requires educational programs or psychological treatment alongside certain school-violence measures. Some eligible records may also be considered for deletion at graduation under specified conditions, including reflection and positive behavioral change. These are conditional processes, not promises of admission or proof that every student receives effective support. Still, their presence matters to a discussion that can otherwise stop at the consequence.
The student who was harmed must remain central, too. Their safety cannot depend on someone else’s wish for a fresh start. They should not be expected to forgive, resume a relationship, or participate in a restorative meeting to demonstrate that the process worked. A 2026 restorative-practice guide from South Korea’s Chungcheongbuk-do Office of Education provides an important safeguard: both students must consent, either can stop, and the process does not replace formal disciplinary procedures.
I would like to see that same care in how we talk about success more broadly. We can notice the student who becomes a more dependable teammate, learns to handle disagreement without cruelty, or takes responsibility without being pushed. Those changes matter in families, workplaces, and communities. Recognizing them gives young people something worthwhile to work toward, not simply something to avoid.
Schools also need the time and support to teach these lessons. Clear expectations should come with adults who can guide students through difficult conversations and help them practice better choices. A system that asks for evidence of change should make meaningful opportunities to change available, rather than leaving that work entirely to a family’s resources. That is an aspiration worth pursuing, not something these policies alone establish.
Being a champion of learning means caring about who a person is becoming. We can uphold serious expectations, protect students who have been harmed, and keep working toward a credible way forward for those who take responsibility. How we treat people belongs in the conversation about success. So does the possibility of learning to do better.