PERSPECTIVE: Tuition continues to be a booming industry in Singapore, with parents shelling out an average of S$112 a month per household, in hopes of giving their children a leg up in their studies, based on the most recent Household Expenditure Survey in 2017/2018.

The writer, who worked as a tutor in a leading English tuition centre in Singapore, shares his thoughts on work satisfaction as a tutor, the stress it causes for students, and what kept him in the job for three years before he quit.

I started working full-time as a tutor back in February 2020.

My day centred around teaching primary school students in a group tuition setting. And to be honest, it was a lot of fun.

There were times I could not stop laughing because of a brutally honest comment that a kid blurted out, or because of a quirky idea that a student used in their composition.

There were also less pleasant times when I had to coax a class of exhausted, distracted students to stay on task despite it being their third or fourth tuition class of the day.

It made me notice how tuition could at times add to the stress faced by my students, rather than easing their academic burden.

It is true that many children do benefit from tuition, as the extra practice, guidance, and motivation provided by a tutor can make a difference.

That said, I feel that coming for tuition is a huge tradeoff for students, considering that there are so many demands on their time and energy (and their parents' money) already.

And to be fair, most of my students didn't really need tuition, or at least, not for so many subjects.

On top of that, the job affected my social life and I found the work environment less than ideal.

Ultimately, I resigned in December 2022, having decided that the tuition industry at the moment is not something I wanted to be a part of.

Tuition can be an effective tool

I'm not saying tuition should be abolished entirely.

It can be an effective tool in the right situations.

For example, there are students who are weaker in certain subjects, and are not able to absorb what is needed in school.

These students may feel left behind in school, especially if their teacher covers the curriculum at a pace that is too fast for them.

Tutors could give them a leg up by providing more personalised attention, explaining trickier concepts more clearly and catering the workload to their learning needs.

While I appreciate the limitations that school teachers face, tutors do have an advantage in providing struggling students the guidance and space to catch up.

Additionally, the tutor can play a crucial role in motivating weaker students.

I was impressed by the positive attitude of a Primary 6 student, N, who enthusiastically participated in my classes. Later, I found out that his parents were at their wits' end because he regularly failed English in school.

"He loves your classes," N's aunt told me, "As a teacher, you actually encourage him."

Although N withdrew after a term, it warmed my heart when I heard that he managed to pass his English for PSLE.

It was moments like these that kept me going in spite of the downsides of being a tuition teacher.

For example, interaction with colleagues was limited to passing conversations in the staff room.

I could spend hours swamped with marking and lesson preparation, and would regularly be cooped up for as long as four hours in the same room, teaching.

My fellow tutors and I rarely had to collaborate, so I often felt isolated, like I was working in a silo.

On top of that, the hours I kept as a tutor were quite anti-social.

Tuition classes can only happen after school hours, so I regularly spent Friday nights and entire Saturdays in the classroom.

I'd often have to turn down friends who jio-ed me out during these peak tuition hours.

Then, on my off days (typically on weekdays), everyone was back at work.

And I was already considered lucky, because I have colleagues in the industry who work on both Saturday and Sunday.

At some point, I reasoned that this was still a worthwhile sacrifice as long as I had enough job satisfaction.

No longer wanted to be part of the industry

However, three years in, I no longer wanted to be part of an industry that contributed to students feeling overloaded and facing additional stress.

A common trend in my classes was for students to groan audibly whenever I announced that we would be writing a composition.

Sometimes, I could tell they were just making excuses. However, there were other weeks that they clearly came into class burnt out - perhaps they had written one or two compositions in school, or sat for a test that day.

"Was I pushing them too hard?" was a thought that crossed my mind many times.

I was also nagged by a sense of guilt that tuition itself took up time and energy that students could have used to complete other homework.

Once, when I told a slower writer, L, that he would have to complete his writing task at home, he nodded in resignation.

"It's not that much, so hopefully you can finish it quickly, and take a break," I tried to reassure him.

L, who had noticeably dark circles under his eyes, shook his head. He explained me that he still had to complete a sizeable chunk of schoolwork, and estimated that he would sleep around 11pm or 12am that night.

I was shocked, as the boy was only in Primary 4.

While attending multiple tuitions has become more common in Singapore, not all students deal with the stress well. Some students resort to task avoidance, others "act out" in class, and a few choose not to take tuition seriously at all.

That's not ideal.

Frankly, if I did not have to follow a fixed curriculum, it could have been easier to manage my students' stress.

For example, if I was a private tutor, I could adjust the workload to each student's ability and bandwidth on that day.

But being a private tutor would have its own downsides.

The truth is that many parents in Singapore send their children for tuition because of peer pressure and competition. Essentially, it feels necessary because everyone else is doing it.

Is it really that helpful for students to take so many tuition classes?

Personally, I view tuition as a useful tool, just not for every student.

Many of the children who go for tuition shouldn't be there

Tuition is an added cost that parents have to bear.

I'm sure they would want their investment to be as effective for their child's learning as possible.

However, I felt that many of my students did not have the bandwidth to really benefit from tuition.

For instance, I saw many exhausted students who were already struggling to complete schoolwork and sleep early.

Regularly staying up late to complete homework affects their health, and their ability to absorb what is taught in class during the day.

According to HealthHub, a child in primary school needs around nine to 11 hours of sleep a day.

Some students may also have heavy CCA commitments, or involvement in activities outside of school, such as enrichment classes, sports, or ballet.

Putting children on such packed schedules may be counterproductive.

For instance, I had students who had to rush off before tuition ended for another commitment, which affected their focus and the quality of the work they produced.

While I'm sure parents have good intentions for their children, pushing a child too hard can also risk worsening the parent-child relationship and the child's self-esteem.

I think that parents should monitor their child's workload and could perhaps prioritise the most crucial tuitions based on their child's needs.

For example, a parent of a Primary 5 student who was heavily involved in dance classes, told me she was withdrawing her daughter from English tuition because she had improved to an acceptable standard. Not wanting to overload her daughter, the parent decided to focus on Math tuition, which she felt was more critical.

I felt it was a wise decision that took into account the needs of her child.

Why did I stay for three years?

Despite my gripes about the tuition industry, what kept me going?

Well, I guess I'm an idealist.

As a teacher, I always felt I had the opportunity to make a difference in my students' lives, by helping them feel valued, and supporting the development of their social and emotional skills.

Boosting students' competence and confidence

A Primary 6 student, K, worked hard but was failing English in school.

He would often say he was "lousy" when he did poorly in the subject. Undeterred, I would affirm his hard work and determination, and leave encouraging comments when marking his compositions.

One day after class, he excitedly told me that he had passed his school's Mid-Year English paper. His grade was in the 50s, and apparently other students also found the paper easy — but it was an achievement for him.

Sheepishly, he then asked, "Mr Daniel, do you think this is a good grade? Should I tell my mother?"

"Definitely!" I replied, "You put in the hard work, and earned this grade. Good job!"

The smile on his face as he proceeded to video call his mother about the news, was one of pure joy.

To us, grades may seem like just a number, but many students' sense of self-worth is tied to their exam scores. As a teacher, while it was important to develop the student's exam competence and help them see improvements, it was even more crucial to follow these up with genuine praise.

These moments reminded me of the power that teachers have — to build up a child's confidence.

Inculcating social and emotional skills

Another way that I could create an impact as a teacher was by helping students develop social and emotional skills.

This often involved discipline, and I occasionally had to tell students off for misbehaviour such as distracting others in class, name-calling or borrowing stationery without permission.

But there were also times that called for a softer approach — such as one incident involving a student who struggled with anger management.

M, a Primary 4 student, had been angrily making rude comments towards one of his classmates, and when the rest of the class pointed it out to me, he denied it vehemently.

After class, I confirmed M had made those rude remarks, although it was in response to the classmate, who he felt had slighted him.

"Why did you lie to me?" I asked him sternly, stating that I would have to inform his parents about his misbehaviour.

In tears, M begged me not to. "I was just so angry, I didn't know what to do," he admitted to me privately.

M shared that a similar scenario would play out in his school. Bullies would take advantage of his hot temper to provoke him in class, causing him to react with an outburst and get scolded by the teacher.

My heart softened immediately and I expressed my sympathy, before sharing with him that he needed to find other ways to manage his anger rather than retaliating.

Once M calmed down, he was able to apologise to his classmate and the three of us were able to discuss tips on managing anger. It was a heartwarming moment, as if a gap had been bridged.

From that lesson onwards, I sensed something had shifted in M, as he was less angry in class and his outbursts were toned down.

Such moments reminded me that what I did as a teacher had lasting impact, even though I've moved on to a different field.

What really matters for children?

As a former tutor, I think that the tuition industry has ballooned to its current unhealthy state because of many parents' fears and anxieties for their children.

To me, tuition will always be a useful tool to plug learning gaps and build academic competence, but it should be the exception rather than the norm.

I also hold on to my belief that children should have the space and time to unwind and play, to explore their interests and hobbies, and should spend more time with their families than in tuition.

In my opinion, we as a society have to rethink what is truly important for children. And perhaps, sometimes, to value their present joy over their future prospects.

Top image via Daniel Seow.