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On Tutoring

 Through tutoring, I get a little taste of the narcissism of the teen years; I can see what my 2035 and 2036 might feel like. My student sends me screenshots of math problems, and I solve them, and there is no "acknowledgment of receipt," no note of thanks, no "got it."


I don't mean to whine; I really like my student, and I even like the mild craziness of these email discussions.

And, on the flipside, my student is incredibly patient with me. I consistently screw up my formulas; I label a secant as a tangent; I conflate opposite angles with adjacent angles. Sometimes, my clamminess seems (to me) like adequate grounds for termination, but my student is really gracious as she quietly corrects my mistakes.

I think we both breathe a sigh of relief when we can put math away and turn to "A Raisin in the Sun." Walter is denigrating his own neighborhood; this is just a sign of insecurity, and his rival knows it, and his rival indirectly taunts him about his weakness. I'd like to make a connection to Taylor Swift: "This is like when Jake Gyllenhaal would say, I need to go off and listen to an indie record that's much cooler than yours." But I let the moment pass.

At times, I want to stop everything and just talk about the Tony Awards. A set of "circle proofs" lands on the table: I want to ask, Do we really need to do this today?

But my student is focused and unflappable--and I try to learn from her.

What a gift it's been, every week, to FOIL, to check our computations, to pay yet one more visit to Clybourne Park.
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