Course selection is one of the most consequential decisions a high school student makes, and one of the most operationally painful weeks of a school's year. The tools to help haven't kept up. So we built one that does.
At 14, you're handed a 60-page course guide, a stack of forms, and twenty minutes with a counselor who's juggling 350 other students. You're supposed to walk out with a four-year plan that gets you into the right college, into the right career, into the right life.
It's an absurd amount of weight to put on a teenager. And the tools haven't caught up. Most schools still run course selection on PDFs and spreadsheets. Prerequisites live in the back of a binder. The class that unlocks AP Bio in junior year? Buried in a footnote nobody reads until it's too late.
So students pick what their friends are picking. They miss the elective they would've loved because they didn't know it existed. They show up to senior year and realize the engineering track they'd gotten excited about needed a math class they skipped two years ago. By then, it's not fixable.
The cost of a bad pick isn't a single bad semester. It's a closed door.
From the outside, the master schedule looks simple — match students to classes, assign teachers, fit it in the periods. From the inside, it's a logic puzzle with thousands of constraints, all changing at once.
Counselors stitch together selection forms by hand. Admins guess at section counts because nobody knows real demand until it's too late to staff for it. Teachers find out their schedule three weeks before school starts. Students find out their schedule when the year begins — and a third of them have a conflict.
And then it all happens again next year. Most of the work isn't institutional knowledge — it's manual labor that gets repeated annually because the tools don't carry it forward.
Schools deserve software that does the boring parts so the people inside them can do the work that actually requires a human.
Course planning has all the ingredients of a problem AI should solve well: a finite catalog, structured prerequisites, individual goals, and a mountain of repetitive logistics. So why did every existing tool feel like it was built in 2008?
We started with a simple test. What if a student could open a tab, type "I want to study mechanical engineering," and see a full four-year path drafted in seconds — using only the classes their school actually offers, respecting every prerequisite, and explaining why each class was suggested?
It worked. And once we had that, the rest of the system fell out naturally: if the AI knows the catalog and the prerequisite tree, then so does the school — and the same data can drive scheduling, demand projections, graduation tracking, and counselor caseloads. One source of truth, one place to maintain it, every part of the platform getting smarter the more you use it.
That's ReqPath. Course planning that's structured enough for the school's operations team, smart enough to draft a real plan for a 14-year-old, and fast enough that picking classes actually feels good — instead of feeling like an annual administrative emergency.
If a feature makes life easier for the school but harder for the kid using it, we don't ship it. The student is the user we optimize for — even when they're not the one paying.
The advisor suggests, explains, and shows its reasoning. Counselors and students always have the final word. We will never auto-enroll a student in a class they didn't pick.
Every piece of data you put into ReqPath is exportable to standard formats, on every plan, at any time. We don't sell it, don't share it, and don't train models on it.
Each tier's lower rate applies only to the students within that range — growing into a new tier never reprices your existing students. We publish our tiers so you can verify the math.
CSV imports. Predictable exports. Plain-language error messages. Most of the work a school does is operational — and the software should respect that, not gamify it.
Every meaningful design decision in ReqPath came from a counselor, an admin, or a student telling us what was actually broken. The roadmap stays that way.
We're an early-stage team building this in the open. Here's roughly where we are, what we're focused on now, and what's queued up after launch. Dates are honest estimates, not promises.
Schools can build their full class catalog, draw prerequisites visually, and students can browse the catalog three ways — grid, list, and tree.
Career-aware four-year plan drafts, grounded in the school's actual catalog and prerequisite logic.
Auto-generated master schedules from real student selections, with conflict detection and per-teacher / per-student schedule export. The biggest piece left before public launch.
Caseload views, plan approvals, audit history, and an optional read-only portal so families can see plans without editing them.
Direct sync with PowerSchool, Infinite Campus, and other common SIS providers — so course selection results land where they need to without a CSV round-trip.
That's the whole goal. Not a flashier dashboard, not a fancier algorithm — just a system that makes a 14-year-old feel like they actually understand what's in front of them, and gives the adults helping them the time and tools to do that work well.
If you run a school and any of the above sounded familiar, we'd love to talk. The waitlist isn't a marketing list — early-access partners genuinely shape what we build next, and they get a real discount for the help.
Thanks for reading.
— The ReqPath team
Reach us anytime at [email protected].
Join the waitlist for first-year pricing locked in, hands-on input on the roadmap, and early access to the dashboard as we build.