(Continuation of Ebola Mom Part 61 and part of the Ebola Mom series)
She found an interpreter!
Tag Archives: tutoring
Ebola Mom, Part 61
Kid (after her brother ran away from her): “He always does that when I try to give him a hug.”
Me: “My brothers used to do that too when I tried to hug them!” (False. Never tried to hug them).
Kid: “You have brothers? How old are they?”
Me: “Well, they’re younger than me, so…”
Kid: “SIXTY-TWO?!”
Ebola Mom, Part 60
(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
She got so close to being normal and then she blew it.
…and “Happy Chanukah?” No? Too much effort? K cool.
I’ll take the “I apologize” Christmas miracle and run with it.
Grass is Always Greener
Me (ranting about a former client who didn’t understand or value the services I provide as a tutor): “It must be nice for you– you know, to be a doctor, and work in an established, revered field where your clients actually have respect for the work that you do.”
Therapist: “Half my clients have personality disorders. I get called the c-word and am told to go fuck myself at least three times a week.”
Oh.
Alright well I feel better now.
The Help
Me all year: “As a tutor, I am so damn tired of being treated as if I’m a nanny, dog-walker, or housekeeper– aka, ‘The Help.’ I have an advanced degree and academic expertise. I am not the help.”
Me at Christmas: “NO TIP!? But you tipped all the other help!”
Ebola Mom, Part 59
(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
Pretty sure she literally has us all programmed in her phone as “The Help.”
“No.”
— Kid, when I enthusiastically asked if she was ready and excited to learn.
Pot. Kettle. Black.
Kid: “You talk funny.”
Me: “I know. I have what’s called a lisp. It makes it hard to say certain words. Like lisp.”
Kid: “No, not that. Well, also that.”
Me: “Cool.”
Kid: “But like…you sound like you have gum in your mouth.”
Me: “Ok, well. I don’t.”
Kid: “And you say ‘four’ weird.”
Me: “Do I?”
Kid: “Yes. My mom thinks it too.”
Me: “Well that’s nice…”
Kid: “She says it’s because you’re from Maryland. And people talk funny there.”
Your mom’s from STATEN ISLAND are you shitting me?
Forget Everything I Said
Helping a middle schooler edit her essay on the book The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (which I have never read)….
Kid: “Ok, so, I have a serious question for you, and I need your opinion as a teacher.”
Me: “Go for it.”
Kid: “So there’s a part of the essay where I’m explaining the main character’s reaction to a really upsetting event, but I’m afraid to quote the event, because it’s like REALLY bad. Do teachers care if you quote bad language?”
Me: “Well, honestly, if the book was assigned by your teacher, then he knows about the language. And if using that specific quote truly helps to verify your argument, then you are absolutely allowed to do so.”
Kid: “But it’s like REALLY bad. Like the teacher might get mad.”
Me: “Again, if you are quoting the book, and it makes sense in your argument, it’s perfectly fine.”
Kid: “You’re sure?”
Me: “Absolutely.”
Kid: “Promise?”
Me: “I promise.”
Kid: “SWEAR?”
Me (laughing): “I swear! I wouldn’t lie to you!”
Kid (opening the book): “Ok, it’s this part here.”
(I read the words “Did you know that Indians are living proof that niggers fuck buffalo?”)
Me: “Oh, ok. Nope. You can’t write that.”
Furthermore– what the shit?! Who’s assigning this stuff to a MIDDLE SCHOOLER?!
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