Sunday, February 11, 2024

 Sunday, February 11, 2024 

     I stopped off at Safeway after Church. I drove instead of going with Judy and Paulette because both had plans after church. Paulette had to meet with someone interested in the wedding ministry she headed, and Judy had a big shopping to do at Costco. It was a good thing I had made other plans. Paulette was so sick she stayed home, and Judy had been exposed to whatever Paulette had.

  I had 2nd grade M at 11:30 for the first time in two weeks. We continued reading Stuart Little. She had no memory of where were left off. I don't know that I would have either. When I teach, all my energy is devoted to the student. The story is secondary. She made up a logical possibility which had nothing to do with the story. I gave her a single word; it triggered recall. I teach children to recall random words to help trigger a memory.

  I have only two friends that do well with sympathizing. The others either say nothing, denigrate my concerns, or blame me for the situation. I like it when the person sees my point of view and the other person's. I have difficulty when they get angry at me for not being sympathetic with the other person or get angry at the other person without seeing their point of view.

   I was recently struck by how people don't ask follow-up questions when I tell them a story. I'm not sure why. I have had some baffling responses when I ask questions to get more information about a person's story. One guy said, "You ask questions because you're really interested." What other reason could I have for asking questions? Ah, I can imagine a situation where I would use questions manipulatively.

    I am feeling the burden of Sisyphean chores; I'm overwhelmed. Instead of feeling gardening offered me endless opportunities to engage, I felt it was an overwhelming exercise in futility. In areas where I thought I had the weeds somewhat under control, they're popping up again two days later. I avoided an area along the driveway, frankly, afraid to look. When I did at the end of the day, the area I had already worked on wasn't bad. Using the last bit of daylight, I pour a kettle of boiling water on the spiky asparagus fern.

  It became clear that the first grade B's mother would not contact me. Was it because of what I did with her daughter or because she hadn't paid me for the last two sessions? She was very anxious to pay me before the first session, which she did. She said nothing about paying me before the second session or the third. I thought nothing of it at the time. Either way, I must consider my role in one of our sessions. Did I ignore the mother's distress signal, viewing it as interest instead? I used a protocol for resolving the fear of making mistakes, which is rooted in concepts of evolutionary psychology.

    I tell the child I'm going to ask them a silly question: do they think anyone is going to kill them if they make mistakes when they read or never learn to read well? In most cases, children look at me like it's truly a silly question. Children whose families have a history of verbal or physical violence in response to their reading or not reading find it hard to accept that no one will kill them if they do poorly or if they do well. This exercise will not work with them. But this exercise can work remarkably well for those who do not have that history and find the opening question ridiculous.

   If the student finds the question ridiculous, the next step releases hidden fears. I have the student envision a small 'you' just under the fontanel. I instruct them to have that 'little you face toward the back of their head and announce to every cell in the brain that no one is going to kill them if they make mistakes when reading or even never learn to read. The exercise is effective if the student feels more relaxed.

   I can understand where a parent might be upset if they hear me talk to their child about possibly being killed in the context of a tutoring session. What does being killed have to do with reading? The theory is that when our brains evolved if we couldn't conform to the expectations of our group or tribe, we had to be put down.  

     Many children were left with a limited food supply, hoping a wolf or spirit would come along and care for them.   A small band living at a survival level couldn't afford the luxury of caring for someone who was more of a burden than a contributor. We still have that primitive brain. Regardless of how they're treated, all children are aware of what is expected of them. Being an outlier was truly dangerous when our brains formed a million years ago. That we no longer have to put down our exceptional children is a luxury that comes with abundance. When we know where our next meal comes from, we can afford to be generous to those who can't help secure that food for themselves.

    I had a sociology professor at Hunter College in NYC say that most of the human advancement was motivated by our desire to create a world where we didn't have to kill our children to assure the survival of every other member of the group.