When helping students catch up holds them back

A couple of weeks before the final exams, a maths teacher came to see me.

“Rob, this boy isn’t going to pass. It’s simply too difficult for him. Could you see whether you can help?”

I asked the student to bring his exercise books and papers, and we sat down to look through them. What I found was more specific than “he can’t do maths”. There were certain types of questions he really struggled with. But there were also parts he understood and could do well.

So I taught him something that might sound strange coming from a maths teacher.

I taught him to recognise the questions he should skip.

“When you see one of these, move on. First, give your time and attention to the questions you know how to answer. Make sure you show what you can do.”

With a couple of weeks left, we had to choose carefully. Every hour spent struggling with those particular topics was an hour he couldn’t spend strengthening the mathematics he already understood. And during the exam, getting stuck on those questions could cost him time and attention he needed elsewhere.

He passed. Just.

I thought about him again recently, during a conversation with Danish colleagues about the reactions to the PISA results. They were worried that the pressure to improve reading and mathematics would lead schools to focus increasingly on those subjects, squeezing out other parts of children’s development.

I understand that pressure. When we see a gap, we want to close it. As teachers, as parents, as school leaders. We care about children’s futures, and we don’t want to leave them struggling.

But I think we need to ask a question more often:

What does our help make less room for?

Imagine a child who finds reading difficult. School arranges extra practice. Their parents are concerned too, and if they can afford it, they organise tutoring after school.

Every adult involved is trying to help.

But look at the child’s week. More and more of it is now spent doing something they find difficult. Meanwhile, there is less time to build things, play music, explore an interest, or develop a skill they are proud of.

The things that make them eager to learn slowly give way to the things that remind them how far behind they are.

And then we wonder where their motivation went.

Extra support can make an enormous difference. A child who struggles deserves patient teaching, suitable tools and time to understand. But we also need to notice when that support starts taking over their experience of learning.

If most of the attention you receive is directed at what you cannot yet do, what do you begin to believe about yourself?

Feeling capable matters. So does having something you want to get better at. Those experiences give children reasons to keep trying, including when learning becomes difficult. We need to protect space for them as carefully as we organise additional support.

For the boy preparing for his maths exam, I made a specific choice at a specific moment. It wasn’t a judgement about everything he might ever be able to learn. We looked at what was possible in the time available and gave what he already knew a chance to count.

That experience still makes me question how readily we allow someone’s weakest areas to determine where most of their effort should go.

So this week, think of one learner who receives a lot of extra support. Look at their whole week, including what happens after school.

What has that support made less room for?

Where do they still experience the satisfaction of being capable, the excitement of a new challenge, and the pleasure of developing something that matters to them?

And is there something in their week you need to protect?

Learn motivated,

Rob