In traditional education, teaching has been regarded as a wholly original art, and the teacher has often been placed in an ambiguous position—somewhere between an artist and a craftsman: culturally eclectic, rich in initiative, and independent in pedagogical choices.
Today, however, the educational world is experiencing a genuine pedagogical regression, also encouraged by excessively homogenizing technological and methodological trends, in which the student struggles to recognize themselves as the protagonist of their own learning journey, and the teacher seems to have lost their role as a “guide” in the construction of competencies.
The complexity of the teaching-learning process—where the interaction between teacher and learner represents the foundation on which to build methodological styles and strategies—can produce positive results only if it is freed from prejudices and evaluative dogmatism. As Sánchez Bañuelos states: “The validity of an educational project cannot be measured by any doctrinal or a priori dogmatism; it is the educational outcomes that, a posteriori, determine its real value.”
In this perspective lies José Mourinho’s reflection when he declared: “A coach must be everything: a tactician, motivator, leader, methodologist, psychologist.” This statement—beyond the sports context—expresses a conception of the educator as a multifaceted figure, able to integrate different skills and adapt to the specificities of each individual. One of his university philosophy professors once reminded him that “a coach who knows only about football is not at a high level,” emphasizing that technical competence alone, if isolated, is not sufficient to define the quality of a professional.
A similar idea appears in the thought of Benjamin S. Bloom, according to whom “regardless of what is being learned, almost everyone can learn if given the right prerequisites and adequate learning conditions.” Both perspectives converge on the importance of context and growth conditions: for Mourinho, the educator’s effectiveness depends on their ability to combine method, empathy, and leadership; for Bloom, learning is possible for all, provided that the system offers the necessary tools and environments. However, while Bloom highlights the structural limits of the school system and the socioeconomic inequalities that hinder equal opportunity, Mourinho emphasizes the personal responsibility of the teacher or coach in understanding human complexity and pursuing continuous self-development. In both cases, the centrality of the learner and the quality of the educational relationship remain essential elements.
To claim that a student “does not understand,” as is sometimes heard in teachers’ meetings, implies a static and reductive judgment: it assumes that the difficulty in comprehension is a permanent trait, rather than a temporary obstacle to be analyzed and overcome. Pedagogy, on the other hand, is based on the principle that every student can learn if supported by appropriate methodologies, personalized timing, and a climate of mutual trust. When a learner fails to understand, the causes may lie in the method, the language, the context, or emotional and motivational factors—not in their inability.
Learning is always a relationship. When difficulty arises, the teacher must ask themselves — Am I using the right method? — and reconsider tools, timing, and strategies. Every student has their own cognitive style and different ways of processing information. Saying “they don’t understand” means ignoring this diversity, which is instead the starting point for developing authentic competence.
Labeling students produces long-term negative effects: it undermines motivation, reduces self-efficacy, and fuels a vicious cycle of failure. Pedagogy, by contrast, requires analytical observation, formative assessment, and targeted interventions.
This attention becomes even more necessary for students of foreign origin who have not yet fully mastered the Italian language. A similar situation occurred in the 1960s, when the children of families migrating from southern Italy attended schools in the North, experiencing comparable forms of linguistic and cultural exclusion. In this sense, Italian schools have never truly overcome these dynamics, revealing a persistent difficulty in fully integrating diversity as an educational value.
Italian educational policy stipulates that assessment must take into account linguistic progress and the integration process, not only absolute results. If a student understands concepts but struggles to express them linguistically, the school must help bridge the gap, not penalize them. Confusing content knowledge with language competence means betraying the inclusive purpose of education.
Personalizing instruction, adapting goals, and diversifying assessment tools are essential conditions for ensuring equity and respect for constitutional principles. Failing a student who has shown effort and progress but faces linguistic challenges contradicts the educational purpose of schooling, which is to offer equal opportunities for learning success.
As an educational community, the school is called to provide linguistic and didactic support tools—glossaries, simplified tests, tutoring, reinforcement activities—that allow students to demonstrate their real disciplinary competences.
Every time a teacher plans an educational intervention, they have the duty to rigorously reflect on means, content, and methods, recognizing the shared responsibility of the learning process.
Otherwise, both teacher and student risk losing something, and the lack of openness to institutional and curricular change will only deepen inequalities, fueling new forms of discomfort and social injustice.
Those who can and want to… now.
Massimo Oliveri & Alberto Cei
