As part of my job as librarian, I spend a
considerable part of my day tutoring students in reading. I currently work with
fifteen boys and one girl, helping them memorize their ABCs and practicing the
sounds of the letters.
The
majority of my students are in Standard Four, the equivalent of 5th
or 6th grade back in the States. Most of these students read at a
preschool level which makes school a relative nightmare for most of the boys.
Without the ability to read, they cannot do most of their work—from language
arts, to social studies and science, to homework, and even to math. They have
nothing else to do all day but cause trouble. In that, they certainly excel.
So
I spend my time in-between breaks and library hours working one-on-one with the
students, repeating the sounds over and over, and sentences over and over, and
helpful tricks over and over, in the hopes that they’ll start grasping reading
a little bit better.
Occasionally,
however, I put the flashcards down and help them with their class work. I’ll
read out the story and the questions, and let them determine what the answer
is. Slowly, I’ll spell out the words that they say, testing if they know their
alphabet.
A
while back, I was working with one of my students on his class work. We read a
poem, and began working on the questions. They were fairly easy—most of the
questions contained words or phrases from the poem that we would go find and
then write down that sentence. I showed him how to look through the poem for those
words instead of having to repeatedly read it over and over. We finished, he
left, and I grabbed my next student.
While
working with him (we were going through the same poem and questions), my first
student comes running into the library.
“Miss,
miss! I got 100%!” He yells, interrupting my current session. He runs over to
us, and starts explaining to my student and I how he’s going to just look at
the last couple words in the question from now on and then find them in the
story. He points to the question and where to find it in the story to prove he
remembers how to do it. He then runs back out of the room, and my current
student does a much better job of finding the next answer.
There
was such pride in his voice—it’s rare for my students to do well at school, and
for him to work hard and achieve academically was a new experience for him. He
found the answers himself, and I may have helped, but he did his work himself.
He achieved that 100%, and it made him proud of himself. Whereas normally he
fails, he excelled. And that is certainly a rarity.
I
really struggle with this student. He rarely wants to come to tutoring, and
it’s normally a battle between him, his teacher, and me to even get him into
the room. Once there, he is excited to learn and prove how smart he is. But it
takes a while to get there.
So
to see him this excited for school is unbelievable. He even asked me the other
day why I didn’t grab him for tutoring, which is a far cry from his normal
attitude towards it. Now, I have no doubts
that this is one of the more rare moments. He’s since gotten into fights with
students and been disciplined by his teacher. For the most part, his behavior
and attitude haven’t changed. But, hopefully, he will remember that he is
capable and has achievements that he can be proud of.
