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My Job

 Every week, I meet with a particular student; years have passed. We have walked through the AP World History exam, through the PSAT, through the SAT. As usual, the student is more gracious than I am. If he makes an error when joining clauses, I get slightly impatient. If I myself make an error with verb tenses, he is notably magnanimous.


My student reminds me that it's sort of unpleasant to be a junior in high school. You yourself have no interest in grammar rules, and it's at least questionable that these rules will be necessary in adult life. But you have voices in your ear, making demands. Sometimes, the SAT questions seem gratuitously tedious: Is there a Totozoquean origin for the Choctaw word that means "corn"? FreshDirect offered to open offices in Long Island City right *before* local elections. And it offered to open offices in Pittsburgh right *after* local elections. Does the timing have an impact on a standard municipal response to an offer from FreshDirect?

Why--why the FUCK--would my student take an interest in this question?

I make notes about my own parenting. American schooling is such a farce, parents can't help but ask nutty questions. "The application packet wants my daughter to describe a passionate interest of hers. How should she answer?" "This is a course catalogue for the summer offerings at Newark Academy....Which course will help to set my child on a 'success path' in ninth grade?"

I try to use a neutral tone in my reply, but I'm afraid I sound cutting. "Your child should choose the course that seems exciting to her."

I'm grateful for my students--fellow travelers in this crazy country in this crazy life--and I wish them well on the June SAT. Thinking of you, kids. It gets better.
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