Tutor Extra-ordinary

I was an emphatically good student. The overwhelming need to please and enormously high expectations of my creative outputs, academic or otherwise, resulted in a maniacal drive for the graded approval of my university tutors and lecturers.

Side note: while I understand this blog is a cathartic creative outlet, I had no idea it would be this personally revealing!

To return to the point at hand, I am a massive square. Because of this, I received excellent grades and with the exception of one distinction - ONE FREAKING 6!; graduated my Master’s with a 6.88 GPA. My lecturers earmarked me for a future in academia, and while I was enthusiastically power-hungry to become Dr. Bron, the thought of another 6+ years of study poured more chills down my spine than the ice bucket challenge.

Instead, I became a tutor for first year, first semester, often first tutorial, Business Management students. So rewarding. And horrifying. But mainly rewarding. One time a glassy-eyed student professed their immense admiration for me after a long stint at the Uni-club pre-tutorial. They didn’t return post mid-tute break, and I heard later they’d fertilised the outside landscaping and staggered off. Honestly, I was just a tiny bit impressed they turned up at all, reaffirming their regard for the quality content of Introduction to Management.

Unfortunately revelling in the feeling of being a senior, but still with-it (my interpretation, not my junior peers’) university student wrapped-up post the conclusion my Master’s and upon leaving campus for greener - or in this case greyer - pastures. However, recently I’ve been drawn back by that seriously gratifying ‘A-ha!’ incident. It’s a physically impactful understanding, the light-bulb, where through time and explanation, changes in direction and tact, the student has a sudden realisation and clarity of comprehension. Only now the genuine and angelic scholars are Year 3-4 primary school students.

My first session was comparable to a distant family reconciliation, ‘Are you married?’ , ‘Where do you live?’ , ‘Is this your real job?’, but I do have an admirably good grasp of the content. I’ve had to learn my times-tables over, with the advantage of knowing the sneaky cheat 9 times on my hands, but subtraction and addition I’ve got in the bag. And while my new pupils continue to have the glorious ‘A-ha!’ moments, the unequaled reaction of ‘I am the smartest ever!’ along with a wide-eyed fist pump has warm-and-fuzzied my emphatically good student heart.