Why I Coach
I first met Andrew as one of my teachers at the Royal Grammar School. In the near ten years since leaving, I have occasionally caught up with him for the kinds of conversations that stay with you. This time, I wanted to understand how his mission now extends beyond the classroom into the next phase of his life as a coach, working with young people, parents, and communities.
Let’s begin with why you wanted to share your story in the first place.
I think it is important for young people to know that teachers, parents, and adults in their lives have not always had it straightforward. I spent many years carrying things quietly and it stopped me from asking for help. If my story can make it easier for someone else to face what they are going through, then it is worth sharing.
One of the earliest stories you tell is about a sports day at school. Why does that moment stay with you?
I was in Year 6 and I accidentally ran backwards into the final stretch of the senior race and knocked over the boy who was about to win. For over a decade I carried that moment as if it defined me. I was convinced he hated me. Years later, when I finally spoke to him, he told me he had barely given it a thought.
That experience taught me something powerful: thoughts are not facts. I had treated my thoughts like reality, when they were just stories in my head. Facing them directly was what released me.
That lesson must have taken on more weight as you grew older.
Absolutely. When I was seventeen my father died by suicide. It was devastating. At that age, I was preparing for A levels, thinking about my future, and suddenly I was the eldest of three with a huge responsibility on my shoulders.
What helped me most in those first days was gratitude. As strange as it sounds, I was grateful for the seventeen years I had with him. Gratitude did not erase the pain, but it gave me strength to carry it.
Soon after that you faced another loss, didn’t you?
Yes. Only a few months later, a close friend I was planning to spend a year with in South Africa was killed in a car crash. That was the point where I broke. The hope I had placed in that friendship and in the future we imagined disappeared overnight.
I went into a breakdown, although I did not recognise it at the time. I convinced myself it was normal and carried on, but I was detached from everything. Looking back now, I see how dangerous that was. By normalising struggle and carrying it alone, I missed the chance to ask for help.
What lessons did you take from those years that now shape your work as a coach?
Five things really stand out.
Thoughts are not facts.
Avoidance makes difficulties heavier, but facing them can soften them.
Gratitude can exist alongside grief and help us keep moving.
Belonging matters — the right people and the right environments make all the difference.
Nature restores. Mountains, oceans, and green spaces gave me clarity when words fell short.
These are not just nice ideas. They are lived truths, tested in my own life.
How did those experiences lead you into teaching and coaching?
After university I spent time in the mountains and by the coast. Being outdoors reminded me of what grounded me. Over time I realised that what mattered most to me was connection, growth, and service. Teaching gave me that.
For me, teaching has never been just about curriculum. It is about helping young people to connect with themselves, to see their own strength, and to believe they can face challenges. Coaching became the natural next step. It allows me to work more deeply with teenagers, young adults, and parents.
What do you want people to understand about your coaching practice today?
That it is not built on theory alone. When I talk about resilience I am not giving a slogan, I am sharing something that has been tested in my own life.
Right now I work with teenagers who struggle with anxiety, young adults going through transitions, and parents who want to reconnect with their children. My sessions are about clarity and calm, with tools rooted in values rather than performance. Retreats and workshops build on that, creating space for families and communities to step back and reflect.
And when you look ahead, what is the vision?
I want to grow this work across schools and organisations, building partnerships that bring honesty and resilience into education and professional life.
My philosophy is simple: everyone will face difficulties. The challenge is not to avoid them but to embrace the friction they create, and to let that friction be the ground where strength is formed.
Finally, what is the message you want people to carry with them after hearing your story?
That resilience does not mean perfection. It means honesty. It means recognising that most people carry something and that sharing those truths can make the weight lighter.
That is why I coach. Not to impress, but to guide. Not to perform, but to connect. To live what I have learned: that by embracing friction, we uncover strength we never knew we had.
To learn more about Andrew’s mission to guide young people, parents, and communities towards resilience and calm strength, visit his new website and coaching offering at www.andrewzair.com.
Article by Zak Sylvester
