Journal #5 (Or, You Put the Abyss in Abysmal)

That title has really nothing to do with this post, I just thought it was sort of funny.

So I had my first consultation the other day! It was super exciting. Jenny was sick, and had asked someone to cover her clients. I was only there for an hour, and one of her clients was a no-show. I was about to despair (actually, I was about to thank God) when, lo and behold, in walked Allison. It was the first time she had been in to the Writing Center, and she was a little confused and shy. As I led her back to one of the tables, I kept running through my head everything I had observed in consultations, and everything I had been taught. Of course, my mind went blank.

I tried to break the ice by chatting with her a little bit. I debated whether or not to let her know that I was new to the Center, and eventually decided against it--I figured she would trust my judgment more if she thought I was a seasoned expert. My fidgeting and speed talking didn't really prove this to her, however. I began to calm down after I had read through the assignment sheet and actually got into the paper (which was a very short fiction piece for her English 101 class). Her main concerns were grammar, punctuation and, you guessed it, flow. As she began to read aloud, I thankfully noticed a few things that I could comment on. I set an agenda in my mind that focused on the things she told me she was having issues with. Stopping her after the first paragraph, I asked her where she would pause naturally if she were reading the paper to an audience. Miraculously, she seemed to get what I was talking about, and she began adding commas and periods, and reconstructing sentences all by herself. Even more miraculously, as the session progressed, I noticed that she took my words to heart and actually understood what I was trying to get across! I was flabbergasted, simply flabbergasted. The session ended, and I encouraged her to come back to let me read it after she had made some changes. I let her know that I was really interested in the story, and was curious as to how everything would turn out. She assured me happily that she would.

She probably won't, but it was nice of her to say that.

According to the Newkirk piece, I did some good things in my session, and some not-so-good things. The not-so-good things were that I definitely talked to much. I went on a couple of tangents, and "wasted" a few minutes shooting the breeze with the student. The talking to much was probably not the best thing to do, but we did have a few very productive silences in which I just let her think and come up with answers on her own. I found that when I left her to her own devices, she usually came up with the right answer. And to be honest, I don't think those minutes I used getting to know Allison were wasted at all. I was making a connection, and like Julianna was saying last night, a lot of times it's that little extra effort that we make in getting to know people that makes an impression on them, whether we see them again or not. I hate the idea of the Writing Center turning into a machine: sucking in students, reconstructing them and then spitting them back out again. That connection that we make an effort to make definitely determines whether or not the student will (willingly) return to the Center.

I'm just saying.

OK, something else really fast:

Last night, Rob asked why students might feel more comfortable going to a tutor as opposed to going to the Writing Center. The idea that instantly popped into my head was that students view tutors as the experts; they're the high-end call girls that service the Upper West Side in New York. They view them as clean and efficient, so they don't mind throwing a little extra cash into the transaction. The Writing Center is viewed (if it is viewed at all) as a bunch of other students telling students how to write; we're the run-down bordello on the outskirts of town next to the pig ranch. We're free and obscure and a last resort. Now I don't know why this particular analogy struck me so forcefully as I was listening to the conversation last night, but I think it illustrates it rather well. The question, as Ryan put it last night, is how to do we change our image?

I say t-shirts. Also, I think I might slap a few tattoos on my face some day in order to have people walk up and ask me whether my skin condition is being treated. And I'll say, "Funny you should ask. You should write a paper about skin diseases and bring it to the Writing Center!"

Or something.