TutoringPosted by firstname.lastname@example.org Thu, August 30, 2018 10:22:46
Some disturbing stories have come out surrounding the recent purchase of the UK-based site called The Tutor Pages by global brand Superprof.
Many tutors have reported that The Tutor Pages was their main source of clients and it must have been an unimaginably devastating shock to learn that the site had been disbanded with no warning, no consultation.
I am disturbed by reports that Superprof have been unhelpful and unwilling to issue refunds to clients unhappy about this extraordinary takeover, yet I am even more shocked by the behaviour of the now-defunct company they have bought. What kind of company says nothing about an impending takeover to its paying customers? This wouldn't matter so much if the new company had bought the domain name and maintained the service as it was - but this is emphatically not the case; indeed the look of the new site, the way it operates and its general approach could not be more different.
Superprof operates under a completely different business model from that set up by The Tutor Pages. Tutors can sign up for free but are (of course) encouraged to "upgrade" to what's marketed as a superior service for a fee (and I wonder whether tutors previously signed up to The Tutor Pages were assumed to be new paying customers for Superprof? Hmmmm). Their main source of revenue, however, lies in charging potential clients for tutors' contact details. They are by no means the only company that operate under this model and I'm not saying it's a bad one - the point is that the model is completely different from that used by the purchased company. Tutors (myself included) who had previously signed up to the now-defunct Tutor Pages paid a fee upfront to advertise on the site - potential clients were not charged. I can see why people are angry at being migrated to a site that operates under a completely different model, as well as one that is yet to prove itself as a reliable source of UK-based clients.
I advertise as a tutor on a range of sites and until the recent takeover The Tutor Pages was one of them. As it happens I have gained relatively few clients from this kind of advertising. My own website performs very well on Google thanks to the combination of my relatively obscure specialist subject and a killer domain name; most of my referrals therefore come via my own website, local advertising, word of mouth and (weirdly) my Facebook page.
The first Tutor Pages customers learned of the takeover was a chirpy email from Superprof informing us of the switch and assuring us that our details had been transferred without a hitch. Hmmmm I thought. Reading on, it seemed that I had been assigned a laughably insecure password and this in itself was enough to send me scrambling to the computer to delete my details with immediate effect. (How all of this is allowed under GDPR is anybody's guess).
Following the precaution of deleting my transferred details, and since I tend think it's worth sticking an advert wherever one can (especially for free), I signed up afresh with new details and even started the process of asking old clients to make recommendations on my Superprof profile. I'd never heard of Superprof before but thought "ah well. Why not?"
Having done some further research I have deleted my account again. The way this whole takeover has been handled is shocking and I do not wish to be associated with such a company. In addition, I noticed that my details were appearing under Superprof on a Google search with entirely the wrong fees listed (half the price of my actual charges) plus the link was broken. I queried this with Superprof and having waited over 24 hours for a response I had already decided to cut my losses and delete the account. I had also read complaints from numerous tutors that their fees had been listed wrongly and having browsed the site I know for a fact that there are tutors on there with their listings still incorrect - I have seen them advertise elsewhere and know their rates - some of them have had their rates slashed by two thirds on Superprof and no doubt they are blissfully unaware.
I note from Twitter discussions that lots of tutors have had an outrageous battle to get their registration fee back. I wasn't too worried about chasing them for a refund of my original fee paid to The Tutor Pages as on checking my records it was due to expire in a couple of months so I figured it wasn't worth the hassle. Others have been more determined and I congratulate them on not taking this lying down.
Religion in SchoolsPosted by email@example.com Fri, August 24, 2018 10:01:01
My first novel contained
a thought experiment in which a somewhat inept RE teacher finds herself out of
a job. Her demise came as a result of one well-meaning but thoughtless response
to a vulnerable student and, as I crafted the tale, I felt sympathy with that
character, even as I fashioned her downfall.
As a teacher, I fear it’s impossible to keep your
thoughts, emotions and biases out of the classroom completely, however hard you
might try. Teaching is personal – it has to be. We throw ourselves into it and,
if I believed in the soul, I would say that teaching is a part of mine. It’s
also immediate, and it’s not like the construction of a carefully-worded article.
It’s us, in the flesh, on our feet, all the time: as an educator, a guide, a
philosopher, a fool, a blagger, a gatekeeper and a showman. Speaking as a
teacher and indeed as a person who could probably benefit from closing her
mouth on occasion, I felt a certain sympathy for my ill-fated creation, even
though her views differed wildly from my own.
But there is a darker story behind the tale that I
told, a real version which dates back to the early 1980s, when I was on the
other side of the desk. You know, the good old days when some schools still had
corporal punishment and teachers could say whatever they liked? I share the
real incident now as an illustration of the sort of thing that can happen when
preaching is allowed to enter the classroom.
In my final year at a Church of England all-girls
primary school, the headmistress took it upon herself to give us a talk on ‘the
facts of life’ or ‘body matters’ as she called them. There was a general sense
of excitement and trepidation amongst most of the girls, but I remember being
bored during much of the talk; it was pretty tame stuff and besides, I already
knew ‘the facts’ from home. Despite my disinterest, I have a hazy recollection
of zoning back into the room as the head was intoning her views on abortion.
Abortion was wrong. Fact. If we had ‘sinned’ (by
having sex before marriage), and in doing so had gone and got ourselves
pregnant, then that child must be born. Something told me that her views were a
little extreme, but before I had even had time to make sense of them in my
head, I suddenly heard my name and then realised that everyone was looking at
me. In her eagerness to make her point, our headmistress had decided to cite me
as an example of someone who could ‘quite easily’ have been lost to the
world as a result of a termination.
Head swimming, I tried to make sense of what she
was saying. My parents were happily married, so how did my home situation fit
with the den of iniquity she had been describing thus far? As far as I could
gather, due to the fact that I have a mild version of a condition called
Goldenhar syndrome (which does not, by the way, affect anything other than
certain aspects of my appearance) my parents might have decided not to have me.
Now, there was a thought! But the headmistress put her hand on my shoulder,
warmly and benevolently, and turned me to face my classmates. ‘Wouldn’t that
have been terrible?’ she asked them. They all nodded, dutifully.
Now it may not surprise you to know that my
ten-year-old self had not exactly contemplated my own termination as a
possibility before. I was blessed with loving parents, who made me feel like
the most important thing in their lives. Why on earth would the
idea have occurred to me?
Quite why this headteacher felt it her place to
introduce me to the idea seems impossible to fathom – until, of course, one
remembers her convictions. I’m quite sure she thought she’d done a marvellous
deed, and I wonder to this day to what extent she succeeded; did she persuade
the majority of girls in that room of her beliefs? I do hope not.
My objection to her tactics, speaking not as the
person affected but as a teaching professional, is this: it was clearly more
important to her to preach her morality than it was to consider the individual
welfare of a child in her class. And that, I believe, is the biggest danger
This piece was first published in 2014 in Humanist Life.
Religion in SchoolsPosted by firstname.lastname@example.org Thu, August 23, 2018 21:07:47
My school was proudly
old-fashioned. Questions were viewed with suspicion and contempt, especially in
the context of religion. We were not allowed to study RE as a subject, since
exposure to a variety of religious views would have ‘confused’ us. Instead, we
had Divinity with the School Chaplain: we read passages from the Bible and he
My parents were
deliberately neutral in their stance and so I came to my religious schooling
with a completely open mind – in many ways, an easy convert. I was profoundly
respectful of what I assumed were the sincerely-held beliefs of those around me
and I would bow my head during prayers. I was utterly fascinated by the ritual
of Chapel and knew all the traditional hymns; I can still sing most of them all
the way through, much to my husband’s consternation, and can recite the Creed,
some of the Psalms, the Lord’s Prayer and several others.
While I would listen
with interest during the Sermon, it took me a long time to realise that I was
pretty much the only one doing so. On an increasing number of occasions I would
find myself enraged by the message that we had been given in Chapel, or puzzled
by the hypocrisy of our situation. If Jesus said to ‘sell all thou hast and
give to the poor,’ what were we doing in an expensive boarding school? Did God
honestly care how I performed in my exams – didn’t He have something more
important to worry about? And why on earth did I have to pray for the Queen?
Ignored by the staff and ridiculed by my peers, it became clear to me that most
people neither listened to nor cared about the lessons that we were taught by
the Reverend. Even he didn’t seem to care that much. Yet when I questioned the
charade, I was bullied for it – by students and by some of the staff.
Atheists are often accused
of being ‘angry’ and I guess it’s hard for believers to comprehend the
unpleasant mix of condescension, prejudice and paranoia that some of us have
faced, growing up in a society that tends to equate faith with morality. Soon
after I started attending school, I went to a meeting that was announced for
‘all students who are not Christians.’ In my innocence, I failed to realise
that this was a euphemistic way of gathering our tiny handful of Muslim
students together so that their non-attendance at Chapel could be agreed. The
Housemistress nearly fainted when I showed up, the only girl in the room
without a headscarf. She asked me what on earth I was doing there, so I
explained that I didn’t believe in God and was therefore not a Christian. She
told me not to be so ridiculous, said that my views ‘didn’t count’ and sent me
away. That was probably the first time that I felt really angry.
Despite the pressure
(or perhaps because of it – I was a rebellious child at heart), I became more
and more convinced during my childhood that an unswerving acceptance of a
bundle of ancient writings made very little sense. In addition, a school rife
with bullying was a fine place to observe that religious beliefs have no effect
on a person’s humanity. Over the years I watched some of the worst bullies in
the school pass through their Confirmation ceremony, in which they agreed to
‘turn away from everything which was evil or sinful.’ Some of them became
servers in Chapel. My distaste for the whole sham increased, and by the time I
reached University I was thoroughly relieved to be away from it.
Yet given that we’re
all a product of our experiences, I sometimes wonder what kind of person I
would be had I not attended such an old-fashioned ‘faith’ school. I fully
support the campaign against them, as in principle I believe that every child
should have an education that is free in every sense – not least free from
indoctrination and prejudice. Yet for me, my experiences shaped my convictions
– and not in the way that the school had intended. Maybe I’m unusual, but if my
story is anything to go by and you want to nurture an atheist, then I guess you
proceed as follows: send them to a ‘faith’ school, ladle on plenty of hypocrisy
and tell them not to ask questions. The result may surprise you.
This piece was first
published in August 2014 in Humanist Life.
Classroom teachingPosted by email@example.com Thu, August 23, 2018 17:30:44
Chapter 2 of Making Every Lesson Count
focuses on explanation and starts with an arresting challenge: just how much quality concrete information do students learn from research-based group tasks compared to teacher explanation? This really resonated with me - it's very easy to be dazzled by the "buzz" that these kinds of lessons commonly used in the Humanities can create in a classroom; as the authors put it, students "have enjoyed the lesson - but how many have learnt anything at a deep level?"
The authors address the inescapable fact that teacher explanation has received a bad press in recent educational theory, as the advice in teacher training has moved consistently away from the "chalk and talk" model. All that guff about being a "guide on the side" instead of a "sage on the stage". Well, you know what? Sometimes the kids need a sage. The authors look closely at the growing body of evidence supporting the idea that teacher-led instruction is actually A Good Thing. They then briefly explore the methodology of how to make your explanations comprehensible and memorable.
Pleasingly, the authors move swiftly onto the importance of building blocks and dispelling misconceptions; they emphasise the key principle that lessons should always build upon prior learning, each building upon the last and addressing problems that may have become apparent in the students' work.
The authors really put the boot in when it comes to everyone's favourite sport of "guess what's inside the teacher's head", a game which we've all ended up guilty of playing in a desperate bid to keep our lessons interactive and question-based. The truth, of course, is that this is a seriously pointless way of approaching things. Their sound criticisms of this and similar methods has made me reflect again on the Cambridge Latin Course, which is based on the principle that students miraculously work out what's going on by observing it; anyone that's tried to teach like this knows that students need a huge amount of guidance to get there and sometimes - frankly - it's pointless. Just tell them, for God's sake, before we all lose the will to live.
In their defence of teacher explanation, the authors are never in danger of encouraging a static or dull classroom environment. They advocate storytelling and bringing the classroom to life. They conclude the chapter with some interesting reflections on why teacher explanation has been so overlooked in professional development, as well as a salutary reminder that poor explanations which fail to achieve student engagement will always remain one of the worst ways to teach.
Classroom teachingPosted by firstname.lastname@example.org Thu, August 23, 2018 14:17:18
Well after a sleepless night and a morning of feeling thoroughly queasy, the new GCSE results are in.
I could not be more thrilled! My cohort of 20 Latinists worked so hard and ended up with fantastic results. Four 9s, seven 8s, seven 7s and two 6s. On top of all that, I have also heard that my private candidate gained a grade 7!
The best news, though, is that the vast majority of my students met or exceeded their target grade, indeed 50% of these results were higher than their official target. My students rock!
Congratulations to each and every one of them, who worked incredibly hard to achieve phenomenal results.
Classroom teachingPosted by email@example.com Wed, August 22, 2018 15:17:45
Last night I had my first teaching-related anxiety dream of the late Summer. It was the usual scenario, repeated many times over many years; however experienced you become, they never go away for good. What is the usual scenario? A class that won't be quiet. That age-old problem. Sometimes, I've woken myself up shouting. It's not a good look!
So why last night? It doesn't take a genius to work it out: we are on the countdown to GCSE results day. In less than 24 hours' time the results will be there, in black and white, for better or worse, for all to see. This year is, of course, a particular watershed moment for schools with the first full cohort entering the new GCSE across most subjects. For the first time I will be running my finger down a list of numbers rather than a list of letters; for the first time in quite a few years, I have no real sense of surety as to where those indicators will settle and whether they will reflect my predictions with any kind of consistency or fairness.
I hope with all my heart that our students don't know just how much we worry about them. It is not their job to fret on our behalf; it is their job to do their very best and our job to help them. But on days like this, the night before the final judgement is shared, it is hard not to feel the ponderous weight of responsibility. Did I prepare them well enough? Did I coach them clearly? Did I give them the skills and the knowledge that they need to realise their potential?
This year I was blessed with a wonderful group of students. All I can do now is hope that all their hard work is rewarded and that my next blog post will be bursting with joy.
Teaching & tutoringPosted by firstname.lastname@example.org Thu, August 16, 2018 08:42:14
An extreme case of unprofessional tutoring ...
To illustrate the risk that I believe parents are taking
when they employ a tutor without asking the right kinds of questions, I wish to
share the story of a student in my current school. It is perhaps the worst case
I have come across of a family being let down at the hands of an unqualified,
inexperienced and frankly unprofessional tutor.
At the end of Year 9, this student opted not to continue
with Latin to GCSE within the school Options system. However, her mother
decided that she would like her to pursue the subject outside of school through
private tuition. Sadly, this parent did not seek my advice, and the first I was
made aware of the situation was when the child came to see me in the January of
her final year and asked if she could sit the Latin Mock examination along with
my students. She explained that she had been receiving private tuition over the
last two years and hoped to sit the exams that Summer.
It was fine for her to sit the Mock that I had written, I
said, but there would be a problem if she had studied different texts from the
ones that my students had been working on.
She looked at me blankly. “Texts?”
“Yes,” I said, “the verse and prose literature that you have
studied. Which texts have you covered?”
To cut a long story short, it quickly became apparent that
she had not studied any texts or indeed any sources material. This meant that
she had not covered around 50% of the examination material. When I pressed
further, it transpired that she also had not been given the required vocabulary
list of around 350 words to learn. I was aghast.
I contacted the girl’s mother urgently. Upon further
investigation it turned out (of course) that the child had not even been
entered for the exam, her mother completely unaware that this is a formal
process that must be done (and indeed paid for) well in advance – it doesn’t
just happen by magic. It took me some considerable time to explain that not
only was it probably too late for her child to be entered that year, it would
also be simply impossible for her to sit the four compulsory written papers and
perform well in them given her lack of formal preparation; even giving the
tutor the benefit of the doubt that she had taught the grammar well (I must
admit I am doubtful about this), the child did not know the required vocabulary
and the literature papers would be a complete mystery to her.
Remarkably, the child’s mother defended the private tutor
hotly, insisting that she was happy with the service she had provided. I
pointed out that this tutor had taken her money, claimed to be preparing her
daughter for an exam that she knew absolutely nothing about and failed to
advise her on the entry process. Still, she defended her; it was quite
extraordinary. In the end, we agreed to disagree on the woman’s professional
qualities. The only other contact I had with the girl’s mother after that was
when she passed on a brief request from the tutor in question – could I send
her a link to the subject specification?! Unbelievable. Given that this was
publicly available information and something she should have looked at two
years previously, I’m afraid I refused.
This case is obviously extreme, but it does illustrate the
potential risk that parents are taking when they assume that all tutors are the
Teaching & tutoringPosted by email@example.com Wed, August 15, 2018 13:47:26
Writing this makes me nervous. It has been on my mind as a
topic for several years, but until now I have avoided committing my thoughts to
writing. This is partly self-preservation: I am not keen to receive an onslaught
of complaints. Mostly, though, it is a desire to protect other people; I have met
numerous private tutors without formal teaching qualifications, all of whom
seem committed and passionate, many of whom clearly do a great job. I do not
wish to denigrate what they do.
My concerns about the explosion of unqualified tutors offering
their services do not mean that all tutors without professional qualifications are to
be avoided; however, I do have serious concerns about some of them and I
believe that parents should approach the situation with their eyes wide open.
me be clear from the outset that my core concerns are in a particular area,
namely tutoring support towards a
specific examination goal. If your child is struggling in a subject and you
would simply like their confidence boosted, there are a huge range of tutors
that can probably help with this, including your enthusiastic nephew in his second
year at university. However, if you would like your child tutored to a particular
examination, and particularly if you are relying on the tutor to prepare them for
that examination in its entirety, I would urge parents in the strongest
possible terms to think carefully about what kind of tutor they employ.
Private tuition has exploded in recent years and the number
of parents choosing it as an option for their child has risen to a
record high. More and more parents are spending money on the service and the plethora of private
companies touting for business in this field is frankly bewildering. I have
been approached by dozens of providers keen to add me to their books and to
take a slice of my profits for doing so. I have registered with some services
that allow tutors to maintain full control over their work, and some have been
diligent in chasing up evidence of my qualifications and experience. Most,
however, have not.
It is my belief that this industry will soon face regulation;
the government is already under pressure to address the fact that there is no current
requirement for tutors working with children to have a DBS check. It would not surprise me if, within the next three to five years, tutors are
forced to go through some kind of registration process at the very least. Will this
make a difference to the concerns that I have? Highly unlikely.
If I were seeking a private tutor to guide my child towards
a particular examination, these are the questions that I would be asking:
1. Is the tutor a qualified teacher? If so, what experience do they have? What was/is
their specialism (both subject and age group), what kind of school did/do they
work in and for how long? What were/are their results like?
2. If they are a retired teacher, has the syllabus that they
will be teaching to changed since they retired? How have they ensured that they are up-to-date with the new
specification? (Full time teachers in service have training provided, much
of it directly from the examination boards; when I
retire from classroom teaching, I will choose to set aside funds to pay for my own training
3. Have they ever worked as a professional marker? If not, why not? I would make this a priority question if I were considering an
unqualified teacher. Anyone with the right subject knowledge can apply to
work as a professional marker; you receive superb training and you get paid for
it! If a tutor hasn’t opted to do this it would suggest to me that they have no
interest in gaining an insight into the examination process.
4. How much
experience have they had with one-to-one tutoring? Can they give examples
of students that they have helped and can they share testimonials from parents
who can vouch for previous successes in the relevant examinations?
In addition to these questions, a fairly recent article in
the Telegraph, written by a qualified teacher and experienced tutor, gives some
really good advice on how to choose the right tutor for your child. Ignore it at your peril. In my next blog post, I will be sharing the most shocking case I have come across to date of how an unqualified and inexperienced tutor can let you down.