The strange life of a maths tutor

Did I think I'd be sat here at the age of 60 seeking solace and comfort and reassurance by working my way through a maths exam paper ? No , I didn't. But here I am doing just that.

It's an odd occupation. Solitary and yet permanently in the presence of a stream of students of mixed ability . They keep me on my toes. I have to be one step ahead, anticipate their errors and ready to find a resourceful means of pointing them in the right direction without actually giving them the answer. It keeps me sharp, it keeps me keen but boy does it exhaust me.

When I mention that I teach maths , people's eyes glaze over. The I feel them I also teach English they are dumbstruck. Polar opposites ? Maybe - academically but both of these disciplines involve a relentless search for answers and clever devices of interpretation so maybe they're not so very different after all. The poetry keeps me sane, the maths eases my racing mind and the writing excites my imagination.

Not such a bad occupation after all especially when you realise you could just be making a difference to a youngster's life in some small way. I still remember my maths and English teachers from 45 years ago - Mr Saunders and Mrs Chadwick respectively . God bless you both for instilling in me a confidence that proved priceless.

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