On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community.
Today is my one-year anniversary of officially starting The Writing Clinic, and it took a moment for me to remember why the date was familiar this morning. 11/3, 11/3, my brain said to itself, rolling the numbers around and trying to place their importance. Ah, one year ago today, I saw my first student in my new office.
I have a great group of students, and I appreciated Erika's post today, talking about the interactions of children with parents. Tonight, I. arrived, and it was clear that he and his mother were nipping at each other. Their tension didn't surprise me. I know that I. wants to please his parents and teachers, but (or and) he's smart, and he knows how to say adult-pleasing responses without understanding the responses himself, and definitely not caring about the learning or the rationale behind them. He's an interesting kid to tutor. I find myself vacillating between holding his feet to the fire and finding my best and most engaging lessons. He reminds me of one of my teaching adages: The toughest students make me a better teacher.
It took a little while... he completed his reflective admit slip, and then we worked on a 10-sentence story, and then we reviewed some grammatical concepts (which he seems to especially like, or especially not dislike, as he might say)...but he relaxed, smiled, and--dare I say-- laughed. It was fascinating to watch the engagement drain as soon as we left my office, and he and his mom were together again.
There are times I become nostalgic about my daughters and the passage of time, but I do remember some of the most hurtful interactions when the girls were in middle school. I don't think I miss those days.
