Who wants to know sane people, anyway?
Sometimes I wish I didn't act like I know about certain facets of my personality. For instance, I occasionally wish I didn't act like I know that I'm smart. But I know that I'm smart and I act the way I do sometimes because I know that I know that I'm smart and it reflects in my behavior. Does this make sense? It's likely one of the reasons people have called me a smarmy know-it-all.
Except this semester has proven to me that I don't know it all. Here are some things I did not know that have since proved useful to know:
It is okay to end a session with a student if it started badly and has progressed worsely for an inordinately long amount of time. I wish I had known this when I tutored the incredibly rude girl who answered her cell phone twenty minutes into a session. I could've ended not too long afterward! I slogged through the muddy swamp that was her nine-page paper instead -- for the next thirty-five minutes. When she left, it seemed draining. Hindsight is 20/20: now I know it was not only draining, it was a colossal waste of my time and hers. I could've worked on the website for that half hour. Or made our scrapbook prettier. Or worked on an online submission.
Amen to everything Brett said about APA.
Tutoring involves two people. Feel free to read that sentence again: two people. I didn't factor the student into my thinking as much as I should have when I applied for the job. Enthusiasm about writing (hopefully) bubbled over in my interview with Dr. Rogers and Claire, but logic did not factor into my thinking about my job until I tutored someone: there was a person sitting next to me at the table. And she was talking to me. And we were collaborating. When I applied for the job, I had this mental image of me expounding vast amounts of knowledge to those students who came in for help with their papers. The students of my dreams smiled and nodded and understood everything I said.
NEWS FLASH: Students talk! And question! And heaven forbid, they occasionally argue! And do you want to know something else? Sometimes they are right and you are wrong! I'll be honest. This discovery was a blow to my ego. (It also hurt my ego to discover that sometimes you have to explain things multiple times; in these instances, having multiple tactics comes in handy. Don't be afraid to use any technique that works. Singing "Conjunction Junction" from Schoolhouse Rock was a quick and effective way of explaining the purpose of conjunctions to a student and only took two minutes. -sigh- If only I'd tried that particular method first . . .) But I think my ego needed to be deflated and then stomped on and then torn up. As the semester has progressed, I've pieced it back together into a milder form of confidence. In a sense, the students you tutor have put you on a platform because you have a job title. But their platforms stand every bit as high as ours because they wrote something and they have a better working knowledge of it than we do.
So get over yourself. All of us are smart; we wouldn't have been hired if we weren't. None of us knows everything. This is one of the reasons it's a good idea to befriend the other tutors: they're the most valuable assets in the writing center. And it's often quicker to get information from one of them than trying to find it a manual. It's also a good idea to befriend the other tutors because you have obvious commonalities (like, if you didn't notice, all of you work in a writing center and enjoy the process of writing). And you'll also find you have some not-so-obvious commonalities. Plus all of us (well, everyone I've had a shift with, anyway) are excellent conversationalists and each and every one of us has a sense of humor.
I think that's it. For now. The semester is not over yet and the blog is an excellent way to let off some steam without killing anything or anyone.
Oh, one last thing: Be careful where you sit. It's more important than you may think. (Ask Chris.)
Except this semester has proven to me that I don't know it all. Here are some things I did not know that have since proved useful to know:
It is okay to end a session with a student if it started badly and has progressed worsely for an inordinately long amount of time. I wish I had known this when I tutored the incredibly rude girl who answered her cell phone twenty minutes into a session. I could've ended not too long afterward! I slogged through the muddy swamp that was her nine-page paper instead -- for the next thirty-five minutes. When she left, it seemed draining. Hindsight is 20/20: now I know it was not only draining, it was a colossal waste of my time and hers. I could've worked on the website for that half hour. Or made our scrapbook prettier. Or worked on an online submission.
Amen to everything Brett said about APA.
Tutoring involves two people. Feel free to read that sentence again: two people. I didn't factor the student into my thinking as much as I should have when I applied for the job. Enthusiasm about writing (hopefully) bubbled over in my interview with Dr. Rogers and Claire, but logic did not factor into my thinking about my job until I tutored someone: there was a person sitting next to me at the table. And she was talking to me. And we were collaborating. When I applied for the job, I had this mental image of me expounding vast amounts of knowledge to those students who came in for help with their papers. The students of my dreams smiled and nodded and understood everything I said.
NEWS FLASH: Students talk! And question! And heaven forbid, they occasionally argue! And do you want to know something else? Sometimes they are right and you are wrong! I'll be honest. This discovery was a blow to my ego. (It also hurt my ego to discover that sometimes you have to explain things multiple times; in these instances, having multiple tactics comes in handy. Don't be afraid to use any technique that works. Singing "Conjunction Junction" from Schoolhouse Rock was a quick and effective way of explaining the purpose of conjunctions to a student and only took two minutes. -sigh- If only I'd tried that particular method first . . .) But I think my ego needed to be deflated and then stomped on and then torn up. As the semester has progressed, I've pieced it back together into a milder form of confidence. In a sense, the students you tutor have put you on a platform because you have a job title. But their platforms stand every bit as high as ours because they wrote something and they have a better working knowledge of it than we do.
So get over yourself. All of us are smart; we wouldn't have been hired if we weren't. None of us knows everything. This is one of the reasons it's a good idea to befriend the other tutors: they're the most valuable assets in the writing center. And it's often quicker to get information from one of them than trying to find it a manual. It's also a good idea to befriend the other tutors because you have obvious commonalities (like, if you didn't notice, all of you work in a writing center and enjoy the process of writing). And you'll also find you have some not-so-obvious commonalities. Plus all of us (well, everyone I've had a shift with, anyway) are excellent conversationalists and each and every one of us has a sense of humor.
I think that's it. For now. The semester is not over yet and the blog is an excellent way to let off some steam without killing anything or anyone.
Oh, one last thing: Be careful where you sit. It's more important than you may think. (Ask Chris.)
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