By Lucky B. Geluk, University of Cape Town, South Africa
Asheeqa Petersen, Jayde Saayman, Yonela Mahlakazana, Bianca Warley, Lauren Grootboom, Aqeela Orrie, Bianca Van Hermelen, Shearer Ngobeni, Melissa de Coito and Jocelyn Rouillon. These names bear no significance to the reader (and rightfully so) because these are complete strangers. The beauty of any existence, however, is that somewhere in the world your name is inscribed on the walls of someone’s heart under ‘most impactful people in my life’. In my case, it is all the aforementioned tutors.
When one plans their university trajectory, I believe it very seldom if at all includes hospitalisation a day before your first ever university examinations and subsequent treatment for six months. My 19-year-old self was not only confused but deeply eroded. I did not trust the world around me, my body and above all, I had very little trust in my academic capabilities. If the tutors I listed were asked, they would probably recall their experience of me as an eager student with an unusual ease in approaching tutors for help, however, the common phrase from me that they may all remember is: “I’m scared”.
There’s a potent kind of courage that tutors can awaken in students that I believe not many are aware of. Structurally they are already positioned in the crucial intersection of being privy to otherwise vague academic standards and requirements the respective department has as well as the experience of being on the side of the unbeknownst which sustains a higher regard of empathy and relational agility in student settings. If you marry this position with a little bit of personality you get a tutor so impactful in someone’s university journey, they end up on a UNESCO Open Education blog.
One kind of texture in the impactful tutor ‘fabric’ is the willingness to give meaningful, consistent feedback. Being a humanities student, I heavily relied on tutor feedback for my essays and assignments because they grounded me. I knew what was working, what needed to be refined and what had to be done way with entirely. Once my tutors had given me honest feedback, I was able to feel less like requirements were abstract and I gained more courage to aim higher with each submission.
Feeling heard is often loosely referred to in circles that seek to humanise pedagogy but it is fundamental to academic success regardless of what stage a student is in. My tutors listened to me. When I wanted to go over the word count, when I wanted to incorporate a multilingual element into the essay, when I found the assignment challenging in an interesting way or simply when I said, “I don’t know”. Students often hesitate to ask for help due to a fear of being judged but after encountering multiple individuals who simply hold space for you because they know exactly what it is like to be in your position, that fear slowly fades away.
The TL: DR here is really that the role of a tutor exceeds that of background academic assistant. Dare I even say that like any other pedagogical practitioner role, it is a calling. A smile when greeting students, timeous replies to emails, and constructive dialogue where students are engaged as peers have the power to silence the voice that whispers ‘this is too much for you’. My degree is a tapestry of people who answered their calling to heal through educating and thinking not for but alongside me. So, are tutors really ‘just tutors’, or are they epistemic companions? Those who help us not to simply do the work but remember what counts as “doing the work” in the first place.
