I speak to many parents, and I am often asked why I think one of the tutors who works with me can succeed when the child’s classroom teacher has not. Is the tutor smarter or more gifted than the teacher? Probably not. Does the tutor have more experience or training? Most likely not. Is the tutor a magician? Not at all.
The essential difference between tutoring and teaching is recognizing that education is not a one-size-fits-all experience. Learning is non-linear, surprising, and personal. Some people improve slowly and steadily, while others experience explosive growth and then they plateau. Students encountering algebra will process it in their own idiosyncratic ways. To an even greater extent, students will approach literature with differentiated perspectives and pre-existing skills that either guide them towards clear and persuasive self-expression or inhibit it. For some, the sheer quantity of material—words to memorize, AP-level concepts to digest—is overwhelming. So if a tutor steps into the learning process, it is important to acknowledge that she is inherently engaging with the student in a very different way than his classroom teacher.
Here’s a table summarizing the key differences, which I will explain more fully below:
CLASSROOM TEACHER VS. TUTOR
Hierarchy Equality
Downward pressure Upward pressure
Passive learning Active learning
Silence Outspokenness
What How
The differences between a tutor and a teacher lie mainly in certain key structural elements embedded in the student-teacher and student-tutor relationships. Primarily, the teacher exists at the top of a hierarchy that places her above all the students; being at the top of the hierarchy is often necessary for classroom management. By contrast, the tutor works to create equality (without sacrificing authority) in working together with the student.
Second, the teacher exerts a downward pressure on students, aiming not only to fill them with vital information, but also to do so in a way that is challenging, using grades and scores to evaluate progress. By contrast, tutors apply an upward pressure on their students, helping them to understand the topics and the teacher’s expectations more clearly, and encouraging and motivating them to reach a little bit higher and go a little bit farther. I am not suggesting that teachers aren’t encouraging and supportive people. Many are. But by definition they work mainly within a critical-judgmental mindset—they are constantly evaluating, a key part of their job. If teachers were too encouraging, it might seem like they were making their class too easy or perhaps favoring one student over another. The result is that most students only hear from teachers about what they’re doing wrong, whereas tutors aim to build up all the small and important things that a student is doing right, even when it doesn’t immediately lead to the right answer.
Third, the student in the classroom often experiences the lesson passively. The teacher takes the floor and holds attention, selectively calling on students. The student mostly sits at a desk, not engaging her body, but trying to absorb through careful listening and (it is to be hoped) note-taking. Placing students in a passive position is most likely necessary for classroom management, with class time used to lay out the lesson plan in a detailed and coherent way. But the tutor-student dynamic strives for something completely opposite: putting the student in an active position in relation to her work. The tutor “activates” the student by having her stand up, walk, throw a ball back and forth, and—most important—consistently use her voice to try, fail, succeed, or express her confusion. In this way, bringing the student out into the learning arena and thoroughly engaging her for the full session inverts the passive dynamic of the classroom.
Fourth, for the student, especially one who is struggling, the classroom experience is dominated by silence. Students who don’t want to be called on drift to the back of the classroom, generally escaping the attention of even the most conscientious teachers wanting to make sure everyone is “getting it.” The silence in the back row makes it impossible for the teacher to know whether the lesson is being absorbed by everyone in the room. But the tutor demands that the student be outspoken—not just in giving answers, but in exploring personal reactions to the work, in trying and then trying again not to give up or settle into the resistant “I don’t know.” It is always useful and illuminating to hear students speak out their internal thought process, but if they did that in class, they might be considered disruptive.
Fifth, in a classroom the teacher is focused on “what” must be learned, whereas the tutor’s focus should be on “how” it can be learned. Classroom teachers have to move through topics at a brisk and defined pace if they are to keep up with their syllabi and lesson plans; they must cover all aspects of the material (usually in conjunction with a textbook) in order to assign the appropriate homework and prepare students for quizzes and tests. Teachers must also balance the different personalities and capabilities of their students, and they often structure their lessons in such a way as to find the correct answer as quickly as possible. Those demands alone don’t leave time for any extended and deep exploration of how to approach the material. There is usually one suggested way, and the teacher requires the students to follow it. Good teachers realize that all learners are different and that there are often different ways to arrive at the right answer. This is as true in math as it is in essay writing. Though these different ways should be encouraged and accepted, they often run counter to the single set of protocols that a teacher sets out. Teachers who have been in their jobs for a long time (or, likewise, if they are inexperienced and locked into lesson plans), have often settled into a teaching mode that only allows for specific processes. Their approach is neither spontaneous nor enriched and only promotes a mechanical and uninspiring way of thinking—as if the teacher’s preferred way of doing things is necessarily the “right” way.
Tutors, however, are not wedded to one particular method. In confronting the “what” of a particular lesson, the tutor will tailor the “how” to the strengths and needs of the student. Some students are visual learners and require diagrams to help solve math problems. Some don’t need diagrams but dwell instead on a plane of numbers and symbols. Some think theoretically about a mathematical concept, whereas others find the right answer by rigorously adhering to formulas, while still others need practical examples from everyday life to see how math concepts are relevant. In fact, a tutor’s emphasis on “how” to complete a particular assignment might run counter to the teacher’s stated way, in which case the tutor’s work with the student must be done carefully, not only to get the right answer, but to present the process in a way that is acceptable to the teacher.
A recent “breakthrough” in solving quadratic equations is an excellent case in point: for years, students were taught to use a clunky equation (the quadratic formula) to solve a certain type of equation. It turns out that, thousands of years ago, the Babylonians (!) developed a simpler way, but only recently did an accomplished math professor rediscover the method.[1] He is sending it out to schools for classroom use, and this simpler method is catching on. This is only one of many examples of how classroom teaching can end up static, confusing, or unresponsive to the needs of students.
Tutoring is quite a different experience than teaching—structurally, practically, and philosophically—and these reasons are why a student can often achieve her potential after working with a tutor that she can’t from simply going to class.
[1] Kenneth Chang and Jonathan Corum, The New York Times, accessed August 26, 2022, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/02/05/science/quadratic-equations-algebra.html.
As a teacher and a tutor, I agree with this entirely!