Today was the end of an era. Well, not an era, really. Whatever the opposite of an era is. An episode? A blip? Today was the end of a relatively brief, less-than-meaningful span of time.
It began on a Saturday last June, when I spent all day inside the public library at Exposition Park in a seminar on tutoring illiterate adults, and ended today, in that very same library, when my student, Marvin, failed to show up for our bi-weekly session. In between were numerous canceled appointments (on both our parts, to be fair), many frustrating hours of sitting in rush hour traffic, some fleeting moments of satisfaction derived from helping a man slightly improve his reading and writing skills, and one delicious KFC chicken sandwich.
I liked Marvin. He was affable, enthusiastic, and black (that was a nice perk, as I don't know a ton of black people). A family man, he often spoke of his multiple children from multiple baby mamas. In retrospect, this may have contributed to his downfall, as recently he had been canceling several appointments to appear in court for custody hearings.
Nevertheless, he was the best student out of the three I had been assigned since volunteering for the program, mostly because he was an English-speaking American. That's more than I can say for the young Korean girl and Guatemalan businessman who tried to suckle from my literary teet.
But alas, my pride is just too damn big to let me keep waiting around government funded book warehouses waiting for lovable African-Americans who aren't coming. So I went back to my car, called Marvin up, accepted his sincere apology for forgetting our standing appointment we've had for the last 8 months, and suggested that we suspend the tutoring until he had his life a little more sorted out.
(That means "never," Marvin, in case you happen to be...oh, right.)
Farewell, Marvin. I truly hope that someday, somehow, you learn how James and the Giant Peach ends.
It began on a Saturday last June, when I spent all day inside the public library at Exposition Park in a seminar on tutoring illiterate adults, and ended today, in that very same library, when my student, Marvin, failed to show up for our bi-weekly session. In between were numerous canceled appointments (on both our parts, to be fair), many frustrating hours of sitting in rush hour traffic, some fleeting moments of satisfaction derived from helping a man slightly improve his reading and writing skills, and one delicious KFC chicken sandwich.
I liked Marvin. He was affable, enthusiastic, and black (that was a nice perk, as I don't know a ton of black people). A family man, he often spoke of his multiple children from multiple baby mamas. In retrospect, this may have contributed to his downfall, as recently he had been canceling several appointments to appear in court for custody hearings.
Nevertheless, he was the best student out of the three I had been assigned since volunteering for the program, mostly because he was an English-speaking American. That's more than I can say for the young Korean girl and Guatemalan businessman who tried to suckle from my literary teet.
But alas, my pride is just too damn big to let me keep waiting around government funded book warehouses waiting for lovable African-Americans who aren't coming. So I went back to my car, called Marvin up, accepted his sincere apology for forgetting our standing appointment we've had for the last 8 months, and suggested that we suspend the tutoring until he had his life a little more sorted out.
(That means "never," Marvin, in case you happen to be...oh, right.)
Farewell, Marvin. I truly hope that someday, somehow, you learn how James and the Giant Peach ends.
nice try!
ReplyDeletePossibly my favorite Kvetch ever. Kind of, um... heartwarming? From the Kaptain?
ReplyDeleteExistential threats to your Kvetchy reputation aside, way to go Ethan for actually doing something (however small and often-futile) to help your community. Everybody should be donating a little time and/or a little money to help others, and most people don't. So, seriously, good job man.
(If I find out this was a court-ordered gig, I reserve the right to rescind the good-karma points I have bestowed upon ye.)
Thanks Mikey...I assure you, my services were rendered completely voluntarily, and, ultimately, somewhat useless.
ReplyDelete