I started teaching in 1997, I was on a gap year in Valencia, Spain with my school friend, Adam and, as students often do, we were looking for a way to make money as our student income was low to negligible; we needed to innovate and make some changes. 

“What can we do that local Spanish people can’t?” went the burning question on our minds. “What can we use to our advantage and reduce potential competition?”

The Answer; we speak English. We’d seen posters around campus, English natives offering their teaching services for a fee and we thought, we speak English so we can teach it…

Oh, sweet Summer Children that we were!

We designed posters, with the helpful advice of the woman we rented rooms from (the Medusa-haired Spaniardess as Adam quite creatively called her later on but that’s another story), we printed them at the University, we stuck them on poles and walls.

We waited.

We got replies and devided them up between us, a pair of students each.

My first lesson was an absolute disaster, through no fault of the students at all. I learned a very valuable lesson myself.

I knew English, granted, was well-read and well educated but I didn’t know grammar. Oh, I used it regularly but I did not know why or how, I just spoke it. I could speak to people and they could learn from that but I was no teacher yet.

So, I had a decision to make, I could quit, as I clearly had no idea how to teach or,I could learn what I needed to know and, perhaps, also how to teach.

I chose the latter and sequestered myself away in the Language section of the library in every spare moment I had. I sat at a reading desk with every volume on grammar I could find.

I remembered Confucius’ famous quote and realised I had to truly involve myself. I started to focus on particular rules and look them up in 5-6 different books. I would look for similarities and differences, I would study them and I would them write them down. I filled notebook after notebook in this manner.

The end result is the “language manual” I continue to use to this very day. I took rules, explanations, and examples from these multiple sources and rewrote it all in a wa I could understand. It was cheaper than photocopying everything and, although far more time-consuming, that irrascible Chinese philosopher was right; I involved myself and I understood.

I also started to develop what I called my “Entrance Exam”, a handwritten, four page document I used to evaluate what a student already knew and what they most needed to learn. I didn’t read this anyway, my Teacher Senses were waking up all on their own.

I taught no more students and advertised no more until I absolutely knew what I was doing and my “manual” was completed.

I realised that teaching is a duty to the taught, that we who teach are obligated to our students to help them understand. This moment of satori would shape my life. In Valencia I gained, perhaps, too many students, got recommended by those I had to gain more, and ran around the city from one teaching location to the next. I even found time for a stint at the language academy of the incomparible Cyrus Dadprovar, a Persian American who became my mentor of sorts.

Over the years, I returned to teaching here and there, a passion had been awoken in me that always needed to be fed. I found that I deeply enjoy teaching. I could go to a class after a terrible shift in my day job and plan a class on my way to the student’s home. The preparation and the teaching itself re-energising me like nothing else could.

I would emerge from the lesson happy, forgetting the stress and tiredness of the day.

It took me another 20 years, more of less, to realise what I now know for sure; I was born to be a teacher.

I spent two decades only occasionally teaching and, stupidly, never pursued studies in the field, never did TEFL or TESL, or TEOFL courses. I focussed on “more conventional” career paths and was met, too often, with disappointment. I tried admin, telesales, tech support, and finally entered the gambling industry in Gibraltar in search of my “ideal job” but it had been staring me in the face the whole time…

Almost three months ago, I was let go from my last job as a Safer Gambling Officer at a gambling company, a job I applied myself to well and devoted much energy to but, for reasons I remain uncertain of, did not pass the probationary period.

I was bereft, I have a family to support and made the largest income in the household, and it was gone. I had experienced similar circumstances before and, instead of running right into another equal situation, likely to identical or similar situation blindly again, I needed to reevaluate.

I was born to be a teacher…

I bought a mini-PC and re-geared by Covid-Era WFH (work from home) set up, added a few bits and started to do some research.

What I found both shocked and somewhat discouraged me, the number of online or remote teaching platforms was huge.

I started to review them and, one by one, go through the rather stringent selection process of those I most liked.

I conpleted applications, recorded video inroductions, prepared and recorded mock classes, passed AI “interviews” on my background and teaching ability, submitted to background checks and ID verification.

And I waited…

Native Camp, a Japan-based company answered first and offered some good training options. Unlike many platforms, they offer what they call “Sudden Lessons” to new tutors; you pick likely or suitable times on their interactive calendar (which also shows predicted student volume for time slots) and you go online.

I admit quite readily that my heart was hammering as I awaited the arrival of my first student. I felt like someone sat at one of those booths you see in the meme, a table with a poster inviting interaction, hoping some of those virtually passing by will choose to take me up on the offer…

I am now over 100 lessons into my tenure with Native Camp and it has been quite the edifying experience. My first decent paycheck from them vindication of my decision. My joy in teaching has, if anything, actually grown.

Now I have ten regular students on another platform, Preply, and these have become my base, my bread and butter, my foundation of a routine.

See, that’s the hard part of working from home, you lose the routine of office life and, in losing that, you risk a greater danger, that of losing hope.

It’s been tough, I can’t deny it, I have spent many sleepness nights holding internal debates over the wisdom of my course and worrying if I was making a mistake but I remained steadfast.

I have met some wonderful people on my journey, fascinating students from Asia, about whose lives and culture I have learned a great deal. Morton and Terry from Edumo, whose new tool I have been Beta Testing and which has brought a whole new dimension to my online teching journey. In fact, I can attribute a good portion of my current success and confidence to Terry and Morton;

Edumo gave me a flexibility and adaptability in my lessons I had previously been lacking and I have been able to create some very engaging lessons thanks to them.

So my journey has been long and convoluted by also worth every second. My determination and dedicated stoicism play a serious part. The unwavering support and understanding of my wife has certainly helped. The people I have met along the way have added their contributions to the mix.

But it is my love of and passion for teaching that really drove it, the kept me going through the toughest moments and made me want to succeed.

I couldn’t stop now even if I wanted to!