For the past two years, I have been tutoring and au paring for a family— an 8th grade boy and 7th grade girl. You might say that these kids are too old to have a babysitter, but trust me—I am much more than that; I help them do homework, organize, and most challenging of all: write essays.
In high school, I took AP English and did well on the test, so I believed myself to be prepared for college. Even more so, I am incredibly passionate when it comes so English. So while tutoring these two, I never questioned my ability to write—I was not afraid of the language or worried about my capability to produce substantial writing. I also never doubted my ability to organize and convey my thoughts efficiently. Entering the college campus, and then taking the necessary CORE class changed my cocky attitude: my professor last year gave me a C on the first assignment.
I adored my CORE teacher, which is another reason why this grade hit me especially hard. She was accomplished, composed—everything I believed myself to be—and yet, suddenly, this “C” illuminated my weaknesses. Winter break came along, and I returned home, questioning my major.
This family, as usual, wanted me to come over after school everyday, but I felt that I was betraying them somehow. Why would a “C” student tutor kids? I should not be allowed anywhere near their house, let alone their homework!
And yet, I was determined to show I could pull off an “A” on a paper in this class. That next semester I decided to tackle the poem “The Phenomenology of Anger” by Adrienne Rich in an essay.
To say that I immersed myself in this project would be an understatement; I have always been a lover of poetry, so it came naturally. But this project made me fall in love with it again (as I seem to do each time I read a new wonderful poem). I came in to speak with my teacher, made multiple drafts, and realized the mistakes I made (some, I still seem to make). I received an “A”.
I did not cry, don’t worry—but I almost did. This “A” not only meant that I at least consciously felt better about tutoring this family, but that I could work hard enough and write well enough to succeed. It is with this grade that I constantly remind myself that I can help other people, and that I deserve to.
Although I doubt myself constantly, I believe it is incredibly important to remember one time (or multiple times) when you have succeeded; compliments remind me that I have been successful and can be once again.
But even more than that-- that feeling of accomplishment is wonderful, and reminds me that I can change my role as student and tutor. In Molly Wingate's article "Writing Centers as Sites of Academic Culture", she states: "with their attitude, seriousness, and and experience, tutors and writers help maintain academic culture, and they enhance it" (Wingate, 12).
Working on my writing not only leaves me feeling accomplished, but able to return to the family I tutor and pass on my passion and strength to their kids.
But even more than that-- that feeling of accomplishment is wonderful, and reminds me that I can change my role as student and tutor. In Molly Wingate's article "Writing Centers as Sites of Academic Culture", she states: "with their attitude, seriousness, and and experience, tutors and writers help maintain academic culture, and they enhance it" (Wingate, 12).
Working on my writing not only leaves me feeling accomplished, but able to return to the family I tutor and pass on my passion and strength to their kids.
You learned to write in an academic manner for a demanding faculty member.
ReplyDeleteTo me, however, that A may have come because you got passionate about the topic. This is why those "writing to get it done" should be content with grades lower than A. No passion, no perfection.
PS: Love the Bowie ref in the profile. Check out mine. There's hope in the world if you generation keeps listening to the Pale White Duke.