School Daze
So school started up again today.
I was so happy and excited to go do tutoring. I looked amazing in my mind, even though my outfit was totally impractical for winter. I can't help it; the computer lab is a billion degrees, so wearing a skirt and fishnet stockings is really a job requirement since shorts just look odd in the middle of winter. I got another one of my books in the mail. So I was a super happy, bubbly mess of joy. It didn't last long though, not that it ever does.
See, I think that I blew it yet again.
It started off small.
A few kids had math homework. (For those who don't know, I have always struggled with math and may suffer from what's called dyscalculia, which is kind of like numeric dyslexia.) One of my regulars, Molly, who is one third of the AWESOME triplets and is the one with mad Doctor Who love, had algebra with improper fractions. I was at a loss. I was afraid to call usakehbecause she was so wonderful and made me this help sheet to show examples of basic one step problems and I just wanted to try on my own first so I did not look like a complete loser. I ended up telling Molly to circle them and talk to her teacher. I explained that I have a math learning disability and couldn't help. Then, an adorable sixth grader came in and needed help with turning fractions into decimals. She had done her work with a calculator and I thus felt that a calculator most likely had the right answers and that as long as that was allowed it was okay.
This not being able to help with math is really upsetting me and breaking my spirit. Every time a kid comes in with math homework and I can't help them, I hate myself. I think that I shouldn't be there. These kids deserve a tutor who can actually help. I'm not helping them. I'm hurting them. Their teachers tell them to come to me for help and I CAN'T.
The main event of awful came in the form of two boys. I have had one of them in my class before. It started when I gave them pencils. I randomly grabbed two mechanical pencils, one of which was red and the other of which was pink. One took the red and the boy I have had before said, "Oh great, I get the GAY ONE." I gave him a look and said, "That's not okay. I'm bisexual and that's not right. There's no such thing as a gay color." I walked away and turned back and asked if he would like a normal pencil. He said no and said he was sorry.
Also, these two guys would not stop playing video games. I have a policy that if you finish your work early you can do whatever you want so long as you are quiet and don't bother other people. They have headphones in the lab so I have no problem with kids listening to music or watching YouTube. They can even do this without headphones so long as the volume is low and it doesn't bother anyone else. The key words in this policy are AFTER THEY HAVE DONE THEIR WORK.
I get a lot of kids who just have a little work to do and while it annoys me when they spend the rest of the hour doing whatever, I understand that parents can't just zoom over to the school after little Jimmy's done five minutes of work. People have jobs. Some of those kids are forced into coming to my class.
Anyway, these boys wouldn't do their homework. They would text and laugh like hyenas but they would not do their work. I decided to humor them and asked one of them about his video game. This guy on a motorbike would jump and ride over all kinds of stuff. I asked him why he did not fall off his bike and he responded with this lovely gem: namely, "Because he's black." I informed him that was racist. My problem is I cannot let things go. I let it slide that time and basically started the other boy's homework for him by showing him where the answers were in his book. He ddn't even have the book open to the right chapter, let alone the right section.
I left him to do his work and when I saw the two still goofing off I came over and and pointedly asked them what they were doing. I pretty much said, "You have homework, so please stop goofing off." The boy whose homework I had started said it wasn't fair that two other boys were playing video games without getting yelled at. I explained that they had done their work. I had no problem with them because they were polite, quiet, and, again, DID THEIR WORK. They had also not uttered anything racist in my presence. The boy I will now dub Video Game Racist or VGR for short countered by saying again that it was NOT racist because he had black friends and family members. Also, black people were good at sports. I shot back with the basic fact that by saying someone is good at something based on the color of their skin you are saying something that is racist.
I started having a rage panic attack and asked the kids to behave themselves and left the room to find the vice principal, Mrs. Taylor. Instead I found a very nice teacher named Mike (I think that was his name, anyway) in the office. He was wonderful. He saw how upset I was and helped me. He told me the kids were jerking me around and to ignore them. If they didn't do their work it was their fault. He talked to the boys and everything was fine. They still didn't do their work but I just read and forgot about them.
The thing is that this is not the first time I have had ethical issues with my students. I know that they are preteens and that said age group is full of brainless rudeness, and I know that I shouldn't take it personally. But I can't help it. I DO. I want them to stop it and be better than that.
I'm afraid that I am not cut out for this. With my bad math skills and my ethical issues and annoyances with these kids, maybe I am simply not meant to tutor them. I know that I do well with some of the kids and that I help them by just offering them a place to work. Nevertheless, I feel discouraged. Writing this has made me feel better but I don't know.
Should I stop?
I was so happy and excited to go do tutoring. I looked amazing in my mind, even though my outfit was totally impractical for winter. I can't help it; the computer lab is a billion degrees, so wearing a skirt and fishnet stockings is really a job requirement since shorts just look odd in the middle of winter. I got another one of my books in the mail. So I was a super happy, bubbly mess of joy. It didn't last long though, not that it ever does.
See, I think that I blew it yet again.
It started off small.
A few kids had math homework. (For those who don't know, I have always struggled with math and may suffer from what's called dyscalculia, which is kind of like numeric dyslexia.) One of my regulars, Molly, who is one third of the AWESOME triplets and is the one with mad Doctor Who love, had algebra with improper fractions. I was at a loss. I was afraid to call usakehbecause she was so wonderful and made me this help sheet to show examples of basic one step problems and I just wanted to try on my own first so I did not look like a complete loser. I ended up telling Molly to circle them and talk to her teacher. I explained that I have a math learning disability and couldn't help. Then, an adorable sixth grader came in and needed help with turning fractions into decimals. She had done her work with a calculator and I thus felt that a calculator most likely had the right answers and that as long as that was allowed it was okay.
This not being able to help with math is really upsetting me and breaking my spirit. Every time a kid comes in with math homework and I can't help them, I hate myself. I think that I shouldn't be there. These kids deserve a tutor who can actually help. I'm not helping them. I'm hurting them. Their teachers tell them to come to me for help and I CAN'T.
The main event of awful came in the form of two boys. I have had one of them in my class before. It started when I gave them pencils. I randomly grabbed two mechanical pencils, one of which was red and the other of which was pink. One took the red and the boy I have had before said, "Oh great, I get the GAY ONE." I gave him a look and said, "That's not okay. I'm bisexual and that's not right. There's no such thing as a gay color." I walked away and turned back and asked if he would like a normal pencil. He said no and said he was sorry.
Also, these two guys would not stop playing video games. I have a policy that if you finish your work early you can do whatever you want so long as you are quiet and don't bother other people. They have headphones in the lab so I have no problem with kids listening to music or watching YouTube. They can even do this without headphones so long as the volume is low and it doesn't bother anyone else. The key words in this policy are AFTER THEY HAVE DONE THEIR WORK.
I get a lot of kids who just have a little work to do and while it annoys me when they spend the rest of the hour doing whatever, I understand that parents can't just zoom over to the school after little Jimmy's done five minutes of work. People have jobs. Some of those kids are forced into coming to my class.
Anyway, these boys wouldn't do their homework. They would text and laugh like hyenas but they would not do their work. I decided to humor them and asked one of them about his video game. This guy on a motorbike would jump and ride over all kinds of stuff. I asked him why he did not fall off his bike and he responded with this lovely gem: namely, "Because he's black." I informed him that was racist. My problem is I cannot let things go. I let it slide that time and basically started the other boy's homework for him by showing him where the answers were in his book. He ddn't even have the book open to the right chapter, let alone the right section.
I left him to do his work and when I saw the two still goofing off I came over and and pointedly asked them what they were doing. I pretty much said, "You have homework, so please stop goofing off." The boy whose homework I had started said it wasn't fair that two other boys were playing video games without getting yelled at. I explained that they had done their work. I had no problem with them because they were polite, quiet, and, again, DID THEIR WORK. They had also not uttered anything racist in my presence. The boy I will now dub Video Game Racist or VGR for short countered by saying again that it was NOT racist because he had black friends and family members. Also, black people were good at sports. I shot back with the basic fact that by saying someone is good at something based on the color of their skin you are saying something that is racist.
I started having a rage panic attack and asked the kids to behave themselves and left the room to find the vice principal, Mrs. Taylor. Instead I found a very nice teacher named Mike (I think that was his name, anyway) in the office. He was wonderful. He saw how upset I was and helped me. He told me the kids were jerking me around and to ignore them. If they didn't do their work it was their fault. He talked to the boys and everything was fine. They still didn't do their work but I just read and forgot about them.
The thing is that this is not the first time I have had ethical issues with my students. I know that they are preteens and that said age group is full of brainless rudeness, and I know that I shouldn't take it personally. But I can't help it. I DO. I want them to stop it and be better than that.
I'm afraid that I am not cut out for this. With my bad math skills and my ethical issues and annoyances with these kids, maybe I am simply not meant to tutor them. I know that I do well with some of the kids and that I help them by just offering them a place to work. Nevertheless, I feel discouraged. Writing this has made me feel better but I don't know.
Should I stop?