Inspiration

A former colleague recently contacted me and told me to hang in there. "Hanging" isn't the right word to apply to my situation. Flapping my wings to get ready to fly is more appropo. As corny as that sounds when I read it, it's a better metaphor than "hanging in there." In August 2005, I took a job as the coordinator of a writing center whose primary focus was to serve developmental and preparatory students. The center was housed in a program that was an open access portal for most of the colleges at the University. The job had promise for many ambitions I kept close to my heart. Tutors were an intricate part of the curriculum. Part of the job description was to establish relationships with the community and other parts of the campus. They also wanted a creative writing group started for students. All those qualities are essential to a center serving developing thinkers and writers. If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was what this job was asking me to do. It was a job I always saw myself doing at a University I always saw myself being a part of.

I took it on by storm. Within a year (almost instantly really), we were relevant and making an impact. The Writing Center was a vibrant part of the University. Students from all over came to visit our tutors. We had our detractors, yet many students, faculty, and staff still thought we were great at what we did and they still think so to this day. A year after being hired, I was asked to take over the Math Center and implement the same procedures I had in place for writing. A year after that, I was asked to organize the welcome day for the students coming into the program. I've worked for some great people, worked with some great people, and had even greater people working for me. Through all the success and all the anguish (yeah, I screwed up occasionally) of being an accountable leader and descision maker, I stuck it out.

One year after being hired, the program instituted admission standards. Each year they raised them to coincide with the other colleges raising theirs. They were slowly eliminating (or "changing" using the language some might) the whole reason why I took the job and felt it was so important. Last year, we learned that we were entering our final year of the program. I never started that creative writing group. My connections around the campus and community are not as strong as I'd like for them to be. I optimistically thought, or hoped might be a better word, that our track record spoke for itself and that the University would certainly want to keep us around. Last month, I learned my job would be abolished along with the program (and the tutors, and the whole center). I wasn't surprised but I was disappointed. It's hard for outsiders to look the other way when it comes to what our tutoring center has accomplished. You have to really bend your neck and close your eyes and ears to not notice it. My whole point is, I've been hanging in there. It's time to let go, especially when they're taking away what I want to hang onto.

As one might imagine, I am spending a lot of time reflecting, reflecting on my time here at this institution and on the decisions I've made both personally and profesionally over my adult life. 

I've always made time to work with and help students.  It is where I find inspiration.  As a student, I was always one who had the brains but struggled to make the learning experience a valuable one. Along the way, I was fortunate to have some true educators amidst many poor teachers.  My point is, I know what it's like to feel lost and not know where to turn.  I know what it's like to feel marginalized or to even be dismissed.

Occasionally, I get to work with what I consider a true developmental student. Someone who can make it, who wants to make it, but needs a little extra something, whether it be mentoring, encouragement, or just additional knowledge. That's where tutoring comes in. I first experienced these students in large quantities down in Alpine, TX, first as a grad student then as a writing instructor. I remember the first time a student sought me out to thank me. I hadn't seen him in a year, but for my first 2.5 yrs he visited me regularly at our Writing Center. He wanted to tell me that he was graduating. And that he couldn't have done it without me. I chuckled as we shook hands and said " Paul, you were the one who worked hard." But he wouldn't let go of my hand and he kept insisting, "no Eric, I learned a lot from you. You really helped me a lot. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you so much." This event was a pivotal moment in my life. I was right. He did work hard but deep down, I knew he was right, too. I knew and helped many students like him and have continued to up to this day. They all don't come back and say thank you, and they all don't make it to graduation. But when I work with one, I still remember Paul coming up and thanking me. I was working with one the other day who reminded me of those students. She is someone I hear students, and my own staff, discuss. They say she is weird and slow. She is in a literal sense. But she's also bright. I like watching her mind work as I explain to her ways to deal with her writing process. I know she is smart. She comes up with her ideas on her own. She takes the time to write them down herself. She wants to do it on her own. It just takes her a while. She is a good learner (and actually a halfway decent writer when it's all said and done). But she drives people crazy.

Another student I worked with came in at the last minute the night before his paper was due. I could have labeled him a procrastinator if I wanted and told him he's on his own--that's this institution's mentality; they call it "student accountability." But I've learned to not stereotype them, at least not before getting to know them (by then, I can usually avoid it). We sat down; I started to look over his paper. He tried to jump in a couple times and I stopped him and asked him to just bear with me, I was just a little tired. I had already been there for over 12 hrs. But the third time he opened his mouth, I finally heard him. "I know it's late and you want to get going," he said, "there are a few places where I revised things and I want some feedback on those areas." He knew where they were in his paper; he knew what he was trying to accomplish; he understood what it meant to revise; he understood his process. If you're a writer, you know what a joy it is to discuss process with another individual who understands his own process or approach to writing. I was glad I didn't tell him he was on his own. It was a good end to a long day.  It is easy to be critical of these students, Student A cries ALOT, she is consistently overwhelmed and nervous but also determined. Student B shouldn't have waited until the last minute and may not have even been there if his instructor hadn't required him to go. But for me, that is inconsequential. Both of them take their learning seriously. Both of them want to succeed. They are trying to do it the right way--no short cuts. And I am richer for having worked with them.

I wrote the above back in March 2010 while still working at the University of Cincinnati.  It is now mid-August.  It won't be the last time I write about inspiration, but it will be the last time I write about the University of Cincinnati (sounds good anyway, huh?). I still tutor students like the aforementioned at another institution. I am glad I was/am in a profession where I can find inspiration.  Believe it or not, it was a little easier to walk away knowing that if I stayed I would be doing something else.