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Written by former school-leader Julia Silver, Love Tutoring: Be the tutor your student needs is an essential guide to professional development for all tutors. Based on her Foundations of Effective Tutoring course, Julia shares an enthusiastic and enabling vision of tutoring as a burgeoning space within the educational landscape. At a time when teacher retention and pupil attendance are at an all-time low, tutoring provides a gentler, more person-centred and holistic approach to teaching and learning. Once considered a Plan B option, tutoring is fast becoming a legitimate career choice. The rollout of the UK government's National Tutoring Programme has brought tutoring into the spotlight. Previously considered 'shadow-schooling' over the last decade, a quarter of all 11-16-year-olds have received private tuition in England and Wales (rising to 42% in London). But for tutoring to take its place in the future of education, and become an affordable option for all our students, we need more, and better qualified tutors. Combining theory and practice, this book provides tutors with a solid grounding in the pedagogy of tutoring. Julia takes the big ideas from evidence-based practice in teaching and learning today and makes them relevant and accessible to the ways tutors work. Backed up by real-life examples and interviews with professional tutors, this book offers a broad insight into the tutoring profession and explores the different ways to make tutoring a career that you love. Love Tutoring is an invitation, a provocation, and a call to action. This book goes right to the heart of the tutoring relationship and will give every tutor a roadmap for becoming the tutor their student needs. Suitable for tutors of all ages, subjects and levels of expertise, as well as interested parents, agencies, schools or other organisations who employ tutors.
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What a brilliant resource for anyone who already tutors or is thinking of joining the wider teaching profession as a tutor. Packed with encouragement, wisdom, practical advice and stories from tutors, this is a fantastic resource. Highly recommended!
Professor Dame Alison Peacock, CEO, Chartered College of Teaching
This is a really important and useful book for those who already tutor, those who are thinking about it, and those who are wondering where all the classroom teachers went. Julia offers a very thoughtful and, at times, personal account of what it is to be a tutor, and how important the role is in shaping children’s lives. It’s also a very useful text for those curious about tutoring as a career path. Tutoring isn’t just an ‘add-on’, it’s a Sherpa-style approach to teaching and learning, and, for us readers, Julia is a fantastic guide.
Hywel Roberts, teacher, writer and speaker
Love Tutoring is an important book: it locates the role of tutoring in its historical and current context. It’s an element of provision that we all ought to know more about. Julia Silver is an expert in the field; she also has a gift for communicating complex ideas, and I certainly feel better informed and more appreciative of tutoring as a result of reading this terrific book.
Mary Myatt, education writer and speaker
Julia’s passion for tutors and tutoring shines through in her beautifully thought-out handbook for thoughtful tutoring. She sets out big ideas and translates these into practical pause points and reflective moments which make the book informed, engaging, readable and practical. Superb.
Dr Fiona Aubrey-Smith, Director of One Life Learning B
LoveTutoring is a beacon of insight for both novice and experienced tutors alike. Authored by enthusiastic, experienced and passionate Julia Silver, this book is a treasure trove of practical wisdom, offering invaluable guidance on every aspect of the tutoring profession.
It challenges the prevailing narratives surrounding tutoring, advocating for its recognition as a vital and respected profession in the field of education. Drawing on her extensive experience as both a tutor and a teacher, Julia Silver eloquently argues for a paradigm shift in how tutoring is perceived and valued by society.
Sue Atkins, parenting broadcaster, speaker and author of The Can-Do Kid’s Journal: Discover Your Confidence Superpower! www.thesueatkins.com
To my father, Jonathan Samuel Stewart – wish you were here. To my mother, Havi Stewart – my first tutor.
From the moment I picked up this book, I was visited by a flood of memories: of my many past students and of myself as a callow and unsupported but ever hopeful tutor. I wish that Julia Silver’s LoveTutoringhad been available to me at the beginning of my career in education, but at least I can happily endorse – from my vantage point so many years on – the insights and wisdom it contains.
I was an accidental tutor. In my first year of university, I was asked by a friend to tutor his younger sister through her final year of English. She had friends who also needed tutoring. Then there were the younger siblings of other friends who asked for help. Soon, I was advertising in the local paper – remember the local paper? – which involved going into a very dusty and rather depressing office and paying a dollar per word in cash to advertise my expertise and availability in a tiny little box on the classifieds page.
Tutoring was a way to make a passable income whilst I was a full-time university student. I tutored in the evenings and all day on Saturdays from my bedroom in my family home – styled to look less like a bedroom and more like a study – and ushered young people up and down the stairs whilst my family looked on, highly amused.
I set and marked homework and supervised mock exams to get them prepared for the real thing. I talked to parents and gave a wide array of advice which I was certainly insufficiently experienced to give. I even took four of my students to the theatre for the very first time – a matinee performance of AMidsummerNight’sDreamat the Sydney Opera House. It still shocks me that their private school had never organised an excursion to the theatre. Over 30 years later, I remember stealing quick looks at their faces as they sat next to me in the dark: bewildered, amused, awe-struck.
I had high expectations for my students (looking back, I was actually a rather brutal task master) but no expectations for myself. I considered it lucky that there were young people – who were, in iitruth, only slightly younger than me – who wanted to learn from me, and I was relieved that I appeared to have a positive impact on their learning and their results. But in my mind, what I did wasn’t real teaching, and I wasn’t a real educator. For me, tutoring was Plan B, as Julia Silver so evocatively puts it in this important and timely analysis of the role of the tutor.
Moreover, I had no idea how to measure my success beyond my students’ exam results and anecdotal data, no community of practice to support and guide me, nothing in place to protect me as I went into the houses of strangers and welcomed strangers into my own home, and no sense of the value I was providing. I had none of the safety or support that Silver advocates for, and not much of the skill either. Perhaps it is no wonder that I did not take the role seriously and sought professional legitimacy elsewhere.
As I read LoveTutoring, I was struck anew by the absurd double-standard that applies to tutoring. In increasing numbers, parents and students seek the support of tutors at some point in their learning journey. As Silver outlines clearly in Chapter 2, there is a wealth of evidence for the effectiveness of tutoring, both one-to-one and in small groups. Indeed, in a number of countries it has become a key government strategy to boost academic results, support underperforming students and address educational disruption. Two examples of this are the UK’s National Tutoring Programme (NTP) and the COVID Intensive Learning Support Program in New South Wales, Australia.
The tutoring model existed long before the classroom model (which was very much a product of the Industrial Revolution), and its success quite simply stands to reason. Any student will benefit from having the attention, experience and time of an expert educator. Even with my staggering inexperience at the age of 19, I had recent experience of exactly what my students were training for; time to spend listening to them and answering their questions; patience to help them practice (and a bit of youthful arrogance to inoculate me against doubt and insecurity). It is becoming increasingly clear that the traditional classroom does not fit all students, and that neurodiverse students and/or those with additional learning needs iiiare particularly underserved and even alienated by the classroom model of education.
And yet, as Silver reminds us, tutors are ‘underdeveloped, underrepresented and underestimated’. The negative view of tutoring comes from within as well as outside the education profession. I have worked with many teachers who bitterly resent any sign that their students are being tutored, even though they themselves tutor students from other schools. The reluctance to acknowledge the value and popularity of tutoring – indeed, the refusal to see tutors as education professionals at all – makes the position of the tutor precarious and lonely, and only serves to discourage parents and students from seeking the support that will make so much difference to students’ lives. So, as Silver says, ‘For tutoring to become a trusted part of the educational landscape, it needs to grow up.’ This book shows us what the maturity of tutoring should look like.
LoveTutoring is a celebration of the privilege and joy that comes from working with young people as well as a description of the challenges that tutors and those who use their services face whilst they operate in silos and without the professional standards that would provide a structure for accountability and quality assurance. This book is part manifesto, part tutor workbook. As the founder of Qualified Tutor, a professional development organisation for the UK tutoring profession which is committed to raising standards and building a supportive and engaged community, it is appropriate that Silver has showcased the stories of individual members to demonstrate the diversity within the tutoring profession and the many ways in which tutors support their students. These stories are deeply powerful and even moving. Silver isn’t only about inspiration, though. In this book, she takes tutors and potential tutors through the process of setting up a viable and safe business. Throughout the book, there are prompts to encourage self-reflection and she also, most generously, encourages her readers to contact her directly with their questions. This book is a manifestation of Silver’s absolute commitment to the development of a sustainable professional pathway for tutors, to let tutors step out of the shadows and be recognised and held accountable for the important work they do. iv
Even whilst I continued to think of tutoring as my Plan B, I returned to it many times – as a post-graduate student in London, as an academic, and even whilst I was a full-time high school teacher and head of department. And then, out of the blue, tutoring officially moved from Plan B to Plan A. I joined a start-up team building an online tutoring platform which was to become Australia’s largest online tutoring service, Cluey Learning. As the Chief Learning Officer at Cluey, I learned a huge amount about edtech, product development, PR, marketing, and business practices, but at the heart of everything Cluey built what I have learned as an educator – including as an accidental tutor – about the unique role and value of the tutor within the modern education ecosystem.
I urge all the many tutors and potential tutors to proceed with Julia Silver’s insightful words as your guide and inspiration. As I am sure Julia would herself suggest: take the time on a regular basis to make a cup of tea, set out a plate of Petit Beurres (or Tim Tams for the Australian contingent) and work through these chapters so that you can reflect on your current, and aspirational, practice by bringing more clarity, structure, sense, inspiration and joy into students’ lives.
Dr Selina Samuels has spent her entire life in education (since the age of 2-and-a-half) – either having it done to her or doing it to others. She has been a tutor, teacher, head of department and senior school leader, university lecturer, advisor to schools, and specialist in pedagogy and edtech. She was the founding Chief Learning Officer at Cluey Learning and is currently the Global Director of Teaching and Learning for a worldwide network of schools.
Those of us who struggle in the school environment, sensitive to a system that values compliance over creativity, are like the canaries that coal miners carried underground to detect toxic gases.
Those of us who get back up again after endless hurts, after breaking down or giving up, are like the mythological phoenix rising from the ashes to find a new way of being.
Those of us who take that learning and point it towards the next generation, determined to find a gentler and more effective approach are like the dove that points to a new world of possibility.
This book is written for the canaries, for the phoenixes and for the doves. May you soar. vi
It has taken me four years to write this book. Actually, that’s not true. It took six months to write the book, and then another three-and-a- half years to let it go out into the world. These are the people who helped to make that happen:
David Bowman, Emma Tuck, Beverley Randell, Lucy Delbridge, my wonderful publishing team, who believed in this book before I did.
A. J. Harper and the Top Three community, who always put the reader first.
Seth Godin and Sir Ken Robinson, the teachers of my heart, who point towards better ways.
David Rones, my business mentor, who just gets it.
Odette Wohlman, my business partner, who has the biggest heart of anyone I have met.
Simon Silver, my rock and my best friend.
Michael, Benjamin, Rina, Daniel and Sara, my children and all-time favourite people.
And, of course, the Qualified Tutor members – this book is for you. viii
xi
Thefactisthatgiventhechallengesweface,educationdoesn’tneedtobereformed–itneedstobetransformed.Thekeytothistransformationisnottostandardizeeducation,buttopersonalizeit,tobuildachievementondiscoveringtheindividualtalentsofeachchild,toputstudentsinanenvironmentwheretheywanttolearnandwheretheycannaturallydiscovertheirtruepassions.
Ken Robinson, The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything
Insteadofwonderingwhenyournextvacationis,maybeyou should set up a life you don’t need to escape from.
Seth Godin, Tribes: We Need You to Lead Us
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Part I
2Chapter 1
I have a very specific tutoring niche. I love to work with primary-age students who need a more personalised approach – those gentle souls struggling in boisterous classrooms who crave an opportunity to learn in a calm and reassuring space.
Give me a timid 9-year-old suffering with maths anxiety, and I will give them the time and space to really explore and experiment with mathematical thinking.
Give me an under-stimulated 11-year-old, eager to go beyond the confines of the curriculum, and we will create an awesome research project together.
Give me a 7-year-old who has gaps in their learning from a curriculum that is too fast-paced and an environment that is too distracting, and we will slow right down and take as much time as necessary to build solid foundations.
I have tutored on and off since I was seventeen, but when, at 31, my third child was born, I decided to try to make a career of it. As a qualified teacher in a close-knit community, word spread quickly about my tutoring. Within two weeks, I had filled my schedule 4and, even more excitingly, I was hopeful that I could make a real difference to these young people.
At first it was delightful. Whilst my own children were sleeping or settled with a babysitter, the students came to my home, shuttled back and forth by eager parents. I would open the front door and warmly welcome the child in, waving their parents away with a confident smile.
Coming to me for tutoring was probably good fun. My home is an inviting and encouraging learning environment. On the bookcase, The Gruffalo and Elmer (the patchwork elephant) nestle amongst hundreds of much-loved and well-thumbed children’s books. The cupboards are stacked with Numicon and Kinetic Sand, playing cards, dice and modelling clay. The walls are covered with posters, sticky notes and magic whiteboard paper. If we are counting, it will be with coloured pegs. If we are writing, it will be with scented gel pens. This is my way of setting out my stall, of creating a playful and welcoming environment that students can relax into and enjoy. It is my way of demonstrating that learning can be lovely, which is what my tutoring is all about. I use play-based, open-ended activities to bring back the natural love of learning that we all felt in our earliest years.
We usually sat across a corner of my kitchen table, the student at the head of the table and me on the mustard yellow bench against the wall. I always started with an enthusiastic, ‘I’m so glad to see you!’ or ‘How’s your day been so far?’ I would give them a little time to chat, trying to really see and hear them, to connect with them and how they felt right there in the moment.
Then I would share my schedule for the session. I like to combine maths and English to keep things fresh and to build on strengths as well as weaknesses. For ease of planning and a sense of continuity, at least one of the activities tends to be a long-term project, such as a book we are reading together or a longer piece of writing.
About halfway through, I would stop to put some biscuits on a plate and pour a glass of juice for the student, who by then would be deeply engaged in an independent task. Sometimes I would put on some quiet instrumental music whilst they worked. For the final 5activity of the session, we would do something lighter – some maths games or comic poetry – as they nibbled on a Petit Beurre.
When they left, it would be calmly and with a smile. It was an enjoyable hour in a quiet home with a friendly and reassuring adult. If nothing else, I had provided a welcome respite from the crowded classroom.
In my imagination, tutoring was the perfect job. It was fulfilling and flexible. It enabled me to make a difference on my own terms. But, again and again, at precisely the same point, I would begin to come unstuck.
The fifth session is usually when a tutor shifts gear into the long, slow work of making progress. By now, we have had the time to really assess the student and build up a rapport. We have found out what they know and can do, and how they feel about learning. We may also have picked up some quick wins along the way, such as reading the clock or multiplying fractions.
But learning is a marathon, not a sprint, and progress is not linear. It is a messy and organic process. Tutoring, especially for primary-age students, means revisiting the same skills in myriad different ways. They need to revise and apply what they are learning repeatedly, practising until they are confident. Switching activities before they tire and coming up with yet another way of approaching the same concept takes time and bucket loads of persistence.
But a month in, and the novelty begins to wear off. The parents begin to get antsy. Hope has been replaced with impatience. They are wondering: has it helped? Have we done enough? How long can we afford to continue?
Or, maybe, to be totally honest, it is not the parents getting antsy. Maybe it is me. Maybe it is not the parents doubting me. Maybe I am doubting myself, my ability to be the tutor my student needs.
I struggled on, but my smile became strained. Within a few months tutoring began to feel like a burden, not a blessing. It became the field for an internal battle, a clash of my values and beliefs. I felt alone, bored and insecure. This wasn’t the no-brainer career I had expected when I started out. 6
Is there a professional working within the education sector who is as misunderstood as the tutor? Teaching assistants, speech and language therapists, and peripatetic music teachers are all absorbed into the generally well-intentioned, gently forward-moving juggernaut of the mainstream school system. But, with only a few exceptions, tutors have been left out in the cold. We contribute in the background, boosting results and rehabilitating learners, but we are rarely given a seat at the table.
This cycle of neglect, fuelled by a lack of representation in mainstream education, led one influential paper to call private tuition ‘shadow schooling’ and ‘the hidden secret of education’.1 These phrases are deeply problematic. Those of us who already love tutoring take our role and responsibilities very seriously. We recognise that our greatest impact is on the confidence, resilience and self-esteem of our students. Helping a young person to gain a passing grade in functional maths or to discover a love of biology goes well beyond academic results. It gives purpose, meaning and hope to the student and their tutor.
Mainstream education has turned its back on tutoring for too long. Leaving tutors to languish in the shadows is irresponsible. It makes it harder to keep children safe, and it means that tutors aren’t receiving the support and development that every professional needs to do their best work.
Too often, I read posts about tutoring as a great ‘side hustle’. In the United States, the phrase simply means a second job, but to my British ears, ‘hustling’ evokes cowboys, pirates and smarmy second- hand car-dealers. No wonder many tutors wince when they tell people what they do for a living.
Tutoring is not yet seen as a first-choice career. Every tutor I know came to it in their own way and for their own reasons. Many of us 7left the classroom or the corporate world for a life less rigid. Some of us tutor when we retire or whilst we study or apply for graduate positions. A few of us have long-term health issues or are caring for someone else. In fact, in the hundreds of interviews I have conducted with tutors, I have never yet met anyone who intended to become a tutor. Instead, I hear ‘I couldn’t afford childcare, so I became a tutor.’ ‘My managers weren’t understanding of my chronic health issues, so I decided to tutor.’ ‘I needed to pay off my student debt, so I thought I’d tutor.’ ‘I couldn’t face another minute in the classroom, so I figured I’d tutor.’ This is what I call the ‘Plan B mindset’, and I believe it has a lot to answer for.
In my case, I chose not to go back to the classroom after I’d had children because it was too much to juggle. In 2009, I had three children under 5 years of age. Childcare would have cost more than my teacher’s salary, and being at home with my kids felt right, but we needed a second income. Plus, the stamina required to teach thirty individuals full time was something I didn’t think I could sustain – and still don’t. I wouldn’t have had the energy to come home and look after my own kids. I knew it was just too much. So I decided to tutor.
I now know that I am not alone in side-stepping a lifetime of classroom service. Many teachers have taken the same decision in recent years to guard their well-being, choosing to repurpose their skill sets as tutors rather than allowing themselves to be crushed under the weight of the school system. 8
I have interviewed tutors atevery level of expertise from all over the world, and they all agree that tutoring can be lonely.
9And it is not only teachers who are turning to tutoring as a career choice. I know of professionals from accounting to marketing, pharmaceuticals to social work, and even the police force, who have left their positions to explore a role in tutoring. But no matter what our path into tutoring looks like, the only way to be trusted and accepted by the wider teaching community is to approach our work with care and commitment and to ensure that we always put the needs of our students first.
Tutoring can be a solitary existence. More than a decade later, I can still feel the loneliness that would crash over me as I stood by the kitchen window anticipating the arrival of the next student. Yes, I was grateful to be able to stay at home with my children and still work, but I felt isolated. This feeling is not unique to me and my lived experience. I have interviewed tutors at every level of expertise from all over the world, and they all agree that tutoring can be lonely.
I do my best thinking when I talk over issues with peers and mentors – with people who ‘get it’. In a primary school, there is usually a friendly teacher or wise teaching assistant happy to spend ten quiet minutes discussing your kids or your lessons. Just having someone with whom to share a cup of tea and a biscuit or exchange some words of encouragement can give you the courage and the confidence to keep going.
What I craved was professional dialogue. With no staffroom, no colleagues down the hall and no leader to lean on, I had no one with whom I could ‘talk tutoring’. With no one to give me a nod or a thumbs up, the self-doubt became crippling. If you know the Dick King-Smith book The Sheep-Pig – or its delightful movie adaptation, Babe – you will remember the moment right at the end when the farmer looks down at Babe and says, in his gruff voice full of love and pride, ‘That’ll do, Pig.’ At the end of a great tutoring session, that was the feeling I craved: a pat on the head or a nod of approval. But none came. 10
I am not proud of this feeling. I don’t believe that the approval of others is the correct measure of my worth, but I was accustomed to positive feedback and I felt lost without it. This goes right to the heart of our modern education system, which uses reward and punishment for crowd control and micro-management. We have been trained to respond to our master’s voice (‘Good girl’, ‘Great job’) and to praise and certificates. Then, as we grow older, promotions and bonuses become the currency by which we learn to measure our success.
In most sectors, the customer is always right. Happy testimonials are the best way to evaluate a service. We receive verbal and non- verbal feedback from our students and clients; a groan or a cheer, a thank you or a cold shoulder; a referral or a rotten testimonial. But even though I received only great feedback, I felt terribly uncomfortable. Was I a good tutor or just a likeable tutor? Did my clients know the difference? Were they happy because they were making progress, or was it just the cookies and juice that made them smile? Surely, there was more to tutoring than keeping people happy? In professions like medicine, law and education, the client doesn’t always have all the facts. When parents aren’t educators and don’t know their children as learners, are they the best arbiters of my practice?
What I needed in those early days was a solid idea of what ‘good’ looks like in tutoring. I needed a meaningful and objective way to measure my impact and understand how I needed to improve. I felt that I didn’t know how to tutor, that I was making it up as I went along, extrapolating from the teaching and parenting skills I had developed in my other roles. That isn’t to say that I was doing it wrong, I just didn’t know whether I was doing it right. I also needed peers and mentors to help me stay on the right path and push through when I felt like giving up. I needed support and guidance. I needed a community of practice.
Looking back more than a decade to that young teacher tutoring from her kitchen table, what felt at the time like personal insecurity, I now recognise as professional integrity. I wanted to be the best tutor I could be. I wanted to feel a sense of progress, both for my students 11and for myself. I wanted to be proud of what I had achieved and excited to keep going.
That feeling I craved, of loving tutoring, was what educationalist Sir Ken Robinson called being in your Element, with a capital ‘E’ (which is why I have capitalised the term in this book). In his extensive work on the subject, he told story after story of people who had struggled to walk a mainstream path and then soared once they had tapped into their innate abilities and aligned with the world around them. He said that ‘finding your Element is essential to your well-being and ultimate success’.2 Sir Ken said that when we find our Element we can achieve far more than we might imagine.
Tutoring can be flexible and fulfilling. As we will see in the following chapters, there are many more types of tutor than ever before. That is why I believe it is a space that lends itself to finding your Element. If you have a passion for maths, or reading, or young people with autism, you can build a niche for yourself.
In this book, I will show you how and why tutoring might be a brilliant path for you. I will show you many examples of people who found that they were able to develop their true talents through tutoring. These are individuals I know well and who are inspiring and authentic humans. Some work three hours a day whilst they raise their young families. Some have more than matched their teaching salary with online group tuition or international tutoring. Some have developed alternative provision to support disadvantaged young people or built tutoring franchises of every size and specialism. In every case, the common thread is that they each started out like you and me: intrigued by the promise of tutoring but not quite sure what was possible.
12The first thing to realise is that tutoring is incredibly adaptable. Not only does it allow you to personalise learning to the needs of the student, but it also allows you to personalise the way you work to suit your own needs. If you have mobility or health issues that require you to work from home and rest regularly, that is possible. If you want to travel the world whilst you tutor, or help ambitious but disadvantaged students get into top universities, or build a business you could one day sell for millions, all that is possible too. There are so many right ways to be a tutor, and I hope that by the time you finish reading this book, you will have found one that will work for you.
You might be thinking, but who are we, who were born and raised within systems that teach us to conform and comply, to have the guts and the gumption to find our Element and chart our own course? Actually, I think the real question is: who are we not to?
Our world has a greater need for thriving and successful people than ever. As G. Michael Hopf observes, ‘Hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, and weak men create hard times.’ We are living in hard times right now, and we need strong people to make things good again.
We need to make things good for our young people, and we need to make things good for ourselves. This is not a time to put our own needs to one side. Rather, it is a time to wholeheartedly align our unique abilities with the needs of the next generation. As Sir Ken says, finding your Element ‘offers us our best, and perhaps our only promise for genuine and sustainable success in a very uncertain future’. 13