![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
One at a time
Jan. 19th, 2006 08:40 amSo there's this kid in the new 4th grade class that I'm tutoring. Let's call him Basil. It's not his name, but his name is pretty distinctive, so Basil will work. I'm bothering to name him because you might hear more about him later.
He can't stop moving. He can't stop talking. He can't stop messing with the kid next to him. He responds to any adult intervention with sarcasm. He's profoundly number dyslexic. My first mental reaction was that this lad has some serious chemical issues.
The first day I was there he threatened to hit another kid in the face with a can of colored pencils, though I do not believe he meant to act on it. So my first interaction with him was a firm, "We don't threaten people here." Which, amazingly, worked. I stared him down, and he started sarcastically explaining how it was a joke, in response to the thing the other kid said... "It's still not appropriate. We don't threaten people here." And that was that, and he actually worked quietly for ten whole minutes.
The next time I was there, the class ended up standing outside in the cold for a few minutes, and I was about to leave, so I'd bundled up. For those of you who haven't met me much, my outerwear is topped off by a calf-length hooded black cloak with burgundy lining. Basil saw this and his eyes almost bugged. He couldn't stop talking about it, and stood there staring at me with an ear to ear grin until I left.
Yesterday, I was supposed to drill times tables with him. He was strenuously resisting. The teacher swung by and said, "If you work really hard, I bet she'll let you try on her cloak." Rapt attention. The kid sucks at times tables, though. Like teaching through molasses.
So after a few struggles, when he got a right answer, I followed it with "What's the last book you enjoyed reading?" Blinkhuh? "C'mon, Basil, I'm quizzing you here. What's the last book you enjoyed reading?" It was a choose-your-own-adventure. "Cool! I liked that one too. What's eight times eight?" I'm blowing him away.
I waited until after gym and he came up with a simpering I know I'm making trouble face to say, "Mr -------- said you'd let me try on your cloak." I said, "Yep!" He said, "Aw, I'm just kidding," because that's how he gets out of trouble. "I wasn't." I dropped it on his shoulders. He worships me now.
I was friends with several of this boy all through high school drama club. There are so many of them, and they're so frustrated. And I can only catch one at a time. But I've caught one.
He can't stop moving. He can't stop talking. He can't stop messing with the kid next to him. He responds to any adult intervention with sarcasm. He's profoundly number dyslexic. My first mental reaction was that this lad has some serious chemical issues.
The first day I was there he threatened to hit another kid in the face with a can of colored pencils, though I do not believe he meant to act on it. So my first interaction with him was a firm, "We don't threaten people here." Which, amazingly, worked. I stared him down, and he started sarcastically explaining how it was a joke, in response to the thing the other kid said... "It's still not appropriate. We don't threaten people here." And that was that, and he actually worked quietly for ten whole minutes.
The next time I was there, the class ended up standing outside in the cold for a few minutes, and I was about to leave, so I'd bundled up. For those of you who haven't met me much, my outerwear is topped off by a calf-length hooded black cloak with burgundy lining. Basil saw this and his eyes almost bugged. He couldn't stop talking about it, and stood there staring at me with an ear to ear grin until I left.
Yesterday, I was supposed to drill times tables with him. He was strenuously resisting. The teacher swung by and said, "If you work really hard, I bet she'll let you try on her cloak." Rapt attention. The kid sucks at times tables, though. Like teaching through molasses.
So after a few struggles, when he got a right answer, I followed it with "What's the last book you enjoyed reading?" Blinkhuh? "C'mon, Basil, I'm quizzing you here. What's the last book you enjoyed reading?" It was a choose-your-own-adventure. "Cool! I liked that one too. What's eight times eight?" I'm blowing him away.
I waited until after gym and he came up with a simpering I know I'm making trouble face to say, "Mr -------- said you'd let me try on your cloak." I said, "Yep!" He said, "Aw, I'm just kidding," because that's how he gets out of trouble. "I wasn't." I dropped it on his shoulders. He worships me now.
I was friends with several of this boy all through high school drama club. There are so many of them, and they're so frustrated. And I can only catch one at a time. But I've caught one.
