Part 7 of 29 in Helping Your Children Learn: What Parents Need to Know← Part 6Part 8 →
I’ve been observing something unsettling in the educational landscape around me, and it seems ever more pervasive as the exam season looms. Parents, with their hearts in the right place, are turning to coaching centers as a panacea for their children’s academic struggles. The irony is, while these centers promise to iron out the wrinkles in a student’s understanding, they often end up flattening the child’s curiosity in the process.
Take Rohan from Jaipur, for example. His father, a man who deeply regrets not making it to his dream college, has mapped out every hour of Rohan’s week with military precision. School in the morning, coaching in the afternoon, homework in the evening, and tests on Sundays. The coaching center is competent; they know the drill. Rohan’s ability to solve a standard kinematics problem is impressive, yet he lacks the curiosity to question why the car labors in second gear on the road to Amber. This isn’t Rohan’s failing; it’s the system’s. The gear wasn’t in the portion, and nobody bothered to ask.
What concerns me is the normalization of such a routine. By Class 11, discussions of a “dummy school” — an institution in name only, allowing students to focus entirely on coaching — are commonplace. The institute has become the de facto school, while the school has become a mere attendance letter. At home, Rohan is merely a lodger between classes. There is no companion on this journey, just a manager of timetables. And while many boys like Rohan manage to clear exams, the cost is subtler yet profound—learning that a question is only valid if it appears on a test, and that lingering is a luxury, not a necessity.
Parents often fall into the trap of equating coaching with companionship. They assume that by enrolling their child in the best coaching center, they’ve done their part. It’s visible, quantifiable, and—most importantly—a neighbor can see the coaching bag. But here’s the crux: Is the child doing real work they understand, or are they simply performing rote tasks for someone who doesn’t reside in their home?
I’ve seen this pattern not just in education, but in other areas of life as well. In my work as an IVF specialist, I often encounter couples who have been coached through the process, ticking off checklists provided by well-meaning clinics. But what they need, often more than medical expertise, is emotional companionship—someone to walk them through the complexities and uncertainties of the journey. This is a lesson I’ve also applied in my angel investing endeavors. Founders need more than just advice; they need mentors who can walk alongside them, who understand the twists and turns of the entrepreneurial path. You can read more about this balance between coaching and companionship in my post on How Mentoring Startups Mirrors Coaching IVF Patients.
Now, let’s return to our students. What if parents could refuse coaching without killing ambition? What if a child who reads, talks, measures, and plays isn’t necessarily “behind” a child who spends hours in tuition? Sure, they might not ace the narrow tests set by the coaching centers, but they might just ace life. And if an older student genuinely wants to prepare for competitive exams like the JEE or NEET, then give them a companion—someone who can explain concepts without contempt and keep the human adult in the room.
This is where technology can play a role. Platforms like Eklavya offer free tutoring that allows students to ask questions without fear of judgment. It’s a tool, not a replacement for parental involvement. The idea is to supplement, not to substitute. For those curious about the intersection of technology and education, my thoughts on AI Tutors vs. My Kids’ Imagination might be of interest.
Ultimately, the question parents need to sit with is this: Is the coaching in your house solving a problem the child has, or a fear the adults have? Fear of not being able to provide, fear of judgment, fear of failure. The reality is that coaching can drill information into a student, but it cannot be a companion on their intellectual journey. That role is irreplaceable and uniquely yours as a parent.
In a world obsessed with numbers and outcomes, let us not forget the joy of learning for learning’s sake. Let’s not just prepare our children to pass exams but to pass through life with curiosity, confidence, and a sense of wonderment.