I should be numb to it by now, but I never cease to be amazed by some of the things ADIs come out with. This time it’s to do with lessons and lesson payments.
The first comment I saw was to do with lesson payments. Speaking personally, in all the years I’ve been doing this job, I’ve never had much of a problem getting paid. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of pupils who have truly been a problem, and since I had decided right from the start that it would make more economic sense to get rid of troublemakers, they didn’t stay with me long. I still get the occasional learner who struggles to pay for lessons, but as long as they are honest about it and don’t mess me around too much I am prepared to be quite flexible.
I used to get paid by mostly by cheque. I never had a problem with them bouncing, but they were always a glorious pain in the ass – the trouble with cheques is that they only have monetary value if you physically pay them into your account. If I was busy, I would sometimes end up with close to £1,000-worth of them in my wallet before finding the time to make the exodus to the bank. You have a bit of a moral duty to get cheques cleared quickly – I know I used to hate it when one of mine wasn’t cashed until a month or more later – so these trips were a frequent necessity. While we’re on the subject, cash is almost as problematic if it needs to be in your account rather than under the floorboards in the attic!
Trips to the bank were the major issue. Branches are closing all over the place, and the ones that remain are located conveniently distant from suitable parking spaces. Even when you go into a branch, everything takes place in slow motion – the act of paying £1 into a current account which is in credit takes 10 minutes even if no one else is in there. Unfortunately, bank branches are second only to doctors’ waiting rooms as meeting places for old people, every single one of which is incapable of paying their pension in without other issues arising, in spite of having done exactly the same thing every week for the past 10 years (it’s even worse when you consider they could have their pensions paid in directly, without having to go to the bank – or Post Office – at all). If you were in a hurry, going into a branch was a major gamble and frequently a big mistake. From my perspective, it meant parking charges, parking fines (if Rushcliffe Borough Council decided my ticket wasn’t displayed prominently enough, which has happened twice), lost lesson time, and a lot of swearing. More than once I turned up in West Bridgford, only to discover the branch shut ‘for staff training’, which I would have only known about if I went there every day and carefully scrutinised the crudely typed note sellotaped to the window.
Since 2013 I have not accepted a single cheque after switching to taking card payments. I also take much less cash than I used to, so I very rarely have to go to the bank, and I spend a lot less (cash is a temptation). I would also imagine that I would be better off if I was mugged – financially, at least, and when compared directly with being mugged whilst in possession of large amounts of cash. Almost everyone has a chip & PIN card, and they can easily pay me using that instead of in cash. It’s much better for them, in fact, and most find it remarkable to the extent that I’m certain it helps generate referrals.
The issue that always crops up when the ignorant technophobes get involved is transaction fees. I pay 2.75% per card transaction with PayPal Here, so if my lessons are £25 per hour, my annual turnover if doing 35-hour weeks would theoretically be £43,750. If every lesson was paid by card, my net annual turnover would be £42.547 (a difference of £1,203). I estimate that, on average, I made 1.2 visits to the bank each week when I took cheques and lots of cash and, being very generous about it, each visit cost me one lost hour of lesson time. That works out to about £1,500 each year. In short, when I think about all the other costs associated with having to go to the bank, 2.75% leaves me somewhat better off than taking cash and cheques did.
As if this wasn’t enough, many of those who refuse to accept card payments – preferring instead to force their pupil to withdraw cash from an ATM either in lesson time, or before they come out for the lesson – will take PayPal payments through their websites. Ironically, PayPal – as distinct from PayPal Here – charges 3.4% + 20p per transaction. On £25, that’s 4.2%. On £50, it’s 3.8%
A second comment I saw had to do with the physical area covered by an ADI.
When I first qualified, I had recognised right from the outset that I needed to cast a wide net in order to stand a good chance of filling my diary – at least in the short- to medium-term. Initially, I covered virtually every Nottingham postcode and the east side of Derby. However, the Derby lessons became problematic when they started work on what is the current incarnation of Bardill’s Roundabout. Since most work was in Nottingham anyway, and it was building up by the day, I cut out Derby altogether, and then whittled my postcode coverage down further. Presently, I cover all of Nottingham south of the city, as far north as Hucknall, as far east as Bingham and the surrounding villages, and as far west as Long Eaton. I do tests at any of the Nottingham test centres, and when I get an enquiry I decide there and then whether I want to take it or not based on where the pupil is located. In actual fact, I rarely turn anyone down who is within my area.
If I could fill my diary with pupils who all lived within a five minute drive of my house, I don’t think I would want that. It would surely save me a bit of money in fuel costs compared to what I spend now, but it would be as boring as hell. I mean, cripplingly boring. And that would inevitably affect the quality of my lessons in all sorts of ways, not to mention my own long-term wellbeing. I suspect this is one reason why not many ADIs stick in this job for the long haul.
The other problem is best illustrated by the old saying about putting all your eggs into a single basket. While work from your local area is plentiful you might well get a lot of new pupils. But when those are all gone – and not many areas have such a high turnover of residents that there is a never-ending supply of 17-year olds to teach – so is your full diary. And then there is the national economic climate, which goes in cycles. A downturn – and we’re due one, even before Brexit is taken into account – means less work per se. A wider net ensures a better catch.
I next saw a comment about road works and being stuck in traffic jams, making travel of more than a few miles impossible. That’s nonsense. Yes, traffic can be a problem – but not if you know all the rat runs, and understand the hold ups in question, and can bypass the blackspots. Only last night I set off for a local lesson in Wollaton, only to be met by a wall of stationary traffic on the ring road back to Clifton Bridge. I quickly detoured along Queens Drive, up Maid Marian Way, along Derby Road, and came to the QMC roundabout from the east instead of the south, missing the queues entirely (and this was at 6pm). On the other hand, I keep an eye on what’s happening at the Nottingham Arena or if Forest are playing (Notts County doesn’t matter as the traffic doesn’t increase when they’re at home), and avoid those areas as necessary. Unless there has been an accident – which can make even a 2-mile journey last 40 minutes or more – I find a way through, and I am rarely more than a few minutes late.
As the title says, this job is as easy and enjoyable as you make it. Conversely, it can be as hard and unpleasant as you let it be.