I’m a scientist by training: I hold a BSc in Chemistry and an MSc in Pharmaceutical Engineering. The lab taught me something that shapes every class I teach: the most complex problems are only complex until you see the principle behind them. Break a problem down to its fundamental parts, and the solution usually becomes clear.
I’ve been teaching English for about ten years, since my graduate studies, and in that time I’ve taught more than 200 students from six countries.
Along the way, I noticed what most programmes get wrong. Debate is usually taught to improve speaking, or to pass an exam. I believe its real value is in how it changes the way a student thinks. Language shapes our thoughts, and our thoughts shape our actions, our habits and, in the end, our character. Change the way a child speaks, and you change the way they think.
Science taught me something else: you get things wrong, often. In research, peer review is your guiding star; letting others show you where you went wrong is how you see the bigger picture. I bring that into every class. Students learn to take an argument apart the way I would analyse a compound: What is it? Where does it come from? Is it valid? Is it useful? Then they build the clearest possible reply, with nothing unnecessary and nothing vital missing.
Some of the brightest students I meet are the most afraid of being wrong, because being “the smart one” has become who they are. So I start by admitting my own mistakes. Students need to feel safe being themselves before they can grow; I’m the guide, they’re the hero. Over time, “I failed” turns into “I learned something, and I’m closer than I was.” The habit I want every student to leave with is self-reflection, never self-doubt.
I don’t give students memorised answers or tricks for winning arguments. Memorised answers fall apart at the first follow-up question, and winning for its own sake teaches nothing. If that’s what you’re looking for, I’m not the right teacher. If you want your child to think clearly and speak with conviction, in an interview and long after it, I’d love to meet them.
If my students remember one thing, I want it to be this: thinking is the foundation of a life. If the foundation is wrong, nothing you build on top of it will be stable.