I saw Jeffrey, the youngest kid I tutor, tonight. Since summer began, we’ve been meeting every two weeks instead of every Thursday. It’s nice having some nights off tutoring, yet I have to retrain him a bit when I see him. You wouldn’t believe how calm I am around kids. After seeing some crazy stuff in my two years as a Harlem schoolteacher, I just can’t lose my cool when a kid fidgets. This is Jeffrey’s problem.
A sense of humor and some good-natured sarcasm go a long way. All I have to is raise my eyebrows at Jeffrey, and he shapes up. If only teaching entire classes had been so easy. Today I told him he needed to keep his feet on the floor or cross-legged like mine. No other options, especially not kicking back and forth like a Rockette performance.
“Close your eyes and picture a calm body,” I told him. “Now get that calm body.” I chuckled when I wondered how he will remember me years from now when he’s older and it’s been years and years since our last session.
Maybe he’ll think my calm body comments were hippie dippie. Will he remember how I read that passage to him from The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, but took out the profanities? Or that I gave him the colored gel pen for editing his work and told him he was abusing exclamation points and the word “very”?
I hope he remembers one thing I definitely will - the way he tried to get out of doing writing work by asking if anything interesting happened to me since we last spoke. He was procrastinating for sure, but genuinely curious. I like to tell my students funny PG-rated things that happen in my life, and they do the same.
“Hmmm…” I thought. “Nothing comes to mind this week.” Except for right then, I meant.
I took this at Good Stuff Diner last Sunday. I think the stuff that was good wasn’t the pancakes so much as the cool light fixtures.
The aggressor ain’t just that pushy guy on the dance floor who doesn’t seem to realize he’s unattractive.
After I wiped the barf off my mouth with a sleeve, I punched this shirt really hard while quoting Gloria Steinem.
I went out with TBID and others last weekend to this NYU hangout. The place had a lot of guys shooting pool and drinking beer. Somehow, TBID and I convinced everyone in our party to play this hand clap game from my childhood. The guys were so competitive.
The 1 train platform at 168th Street looks different from most. Look how deep underground it is! It’s so quiet down there and every noise is amplified. It felt extra cozy tonight when I walked in from the pouring rain.
By the way, that guy is not TBID. In fact, I can’t remember who he is, but he really likes the hand clap game.
I am a student teacher and I cannot count the number of variations of that shirt I have seen in the classroom. Daily nausea is a part of my life. I came across your blog not to long ago and I really enjoy it.