[Tyr Zalo Hawk]: 712.Essays.Two Tore In

Selected excerpts from:
The Journal of a Madman in Pursuit of Tutoring

  In these, the last days of the planet Earth, it is essential that students be able to write effective papers. To do this, the masses need us, tutors. And to fulfill our own roles effectively, we tutors need to have one thing: a method. They are a subspecies of Tutorus Pleasus (more commonly known as Tutoring Philosophies) that are found throughout most of the world. Methods are tricky little creatures though, impossible to capture, and raising one takes months of intense effort. Not only does one need to read all about them, one must also spend time in the field both observing the beast, and attempting to tame several before finally piecing together one which suits your lifestyle through intensive idea husbandry. This is the story of my journey with my own method, recorded day by day, essay by essay, and session by session. More importantly though, this is what this story means for the rest of the world as we know it (or, at least the UM Writing Center)…
  When I first heard ‘tutoring philosophy’ I knew I was either in it for the long haul, or I was getting off the train at the very first stop. What was a philosophy? Why do I need one of my own? Can I get one at Wal-Mart? All of these questions came in a second, but the answers would take time, as all things that are worthwhile do. The first is simple ‘A tutoring philosophy is your approach to tutoring students.’ The second, all too easy, ‘I needed a set of rules to govern myself by if I was going to be a peer tutor, and there was no one right way to do it’. In essence, I had to create a way of tutoring that fit me by grabbing ideas that I thought would work from the dozens that were thrown at me, and then call that my method. The third answer was ‘No’, which I thought was a bit surprising. And with that out of the way, let us dance!
  When I was a young college student at the University of MontanaTM, I joined a group of explorers on a quest through the fascinating country of Peer Tutordia. Our leader, the infamous Kelly Peterson, was to be our guide, but it was those others met along the way who would have the greatest impact on my personal method. Anxious for action, we arrived at our first meeting with eager faces. We were first given the barest minimum of a method. It was a hollow shell of a thing only made up of our vague ideas on what tutoring was, unfounded principles about what worked, and our own will to learn. I had brought my own method, something which I’d picked up years before as an even younger student. As we all examined our methods quietly, a handout hurricane struck and we were forced to take shelter inside the Hall of Knowledge. Taking hold of this opportunity, Kelly started to instruct us on some of the grander ideas that we’d need to understand in order to get the most out of our trip. Kelly handed out three guidebooks: the Bedford Guide, St. Martin’s Sourcebook, and You and Your Method. The first two were interesting little collections meant to make our journey simpler, and the third was just an instruction manual. No one read the third one. I’m not entirely sure I even received one since I bought my method beforehand, but I digress. During our time inside we flipped through our guidebooks, got to know each other, and supported Kelly in her furthering of our knowledge. Out of this massive input of ideas, only one really stuck with me and became an intricate part of my method. It was prophecy from the great Bruffee who said that “If thought is internalized conversation, then writing is internalized conversation re-externalized” (Bruffee 91). More simply, this meant that writing was just a type of conversation. In fact, writing was a type of conversation you had with yourself in order to express other conversations you’ve had! I was excited, to be sure. Barely a week into it all and I’d already adopted someone else’s work and fitted it into my precious little method. More and more concepts passed me by, too unlike me to even mention. The third week marked the end of the Hurricane and, with our history covered, the 10 of us were finally allowed to set out into the jungle of Peer Tutordia…
  Our first stop was the village of Writing, located in the Center of Peer Tutordia. It was a very large, but peaceful village, with many inhabitants. “Listen up!” Kelly announced as we entered. “I’ve talked with the elders here, and you’re each to go and learn from one of them before the week is up. So, get to it!” It was a bit daunting, but we knew that the people we were to meet were those who had already explored the entirety of Peer Tutordia. They were elders, our betters, and we needed what they knew if we ever wanted to complete our own journey. I was sent to Jake, a man several years my elder with a charming smile and a bit of a lisp. We hit it off rather well, and I knew immediately that this Jake, if that was his real name (which it was), was going to work wonders in front of my eyes. As I sat there, common folk would wander into Jake’s abode with their problems, expecting help in one form or another which he was always happy to give. He pulled out a legal pad, a green pen, and he set to work, his method right beside him. What I saw isn’t entirely believable, so I’ll settle for a simile: Jake was like a nearly bald man with a legal pad who helped students with different things they were writing, mostly essays. Using the ancient technique of ‘Di-Agram-Do’ my elder explained so much and relieved nearly every worry those who came to him could present. I was astounded, astonished, amazed, and several other adjectives that begin with the letter a. After I’d thanked Jake for his time, stumbled out of the room and found a place to sit down, I fumbled around for my method and started to work with it. What could I use from what I saw? The legal pad wouldn’t work, and I didn’t have a green pen, so I was stuck with just what I’d seen. But what was it that I’d seen? I decided I needed to take a walk around and gather my thoughts while the others were still visiting the elders…
  As I was happily picking up these thoughts by myself to put together later I stumbled across a disconcerting notion. “Don’t touch a student’s paper.” It had been a small but intriguing concept at first, an unnoticed rock in the path, but when I looked up again and I saw that it only the foot of a lumbering giant. Minimalist Tutoring stood over me, staring down at me with its gigantic eyes before inching away from me slowly. Curious at first, I followed the odd creature back to its little house on the prairie to observe it and to see what I could learn from it. Mini T and I had issues from the get go, especially when it came right down to the extreme way that Brooks, an earlier explorer, presented him to me. “If you find a student pushing you too hard to edit his paper, physically move away from it” (SM 172) said Brooks, claiming to speak for the ever-silent behemoth that was Mini T. That was the kind of thinking I was going to keep out of my method, even if it meant war. To be completely honest, the concepts that I heard Mini T stood for were as ridiculous to me as leaving a dying man in the street simply because he won’t crawl his way over to your car. I might be able to accept keeping my ‘paper touching’ to a minimum, especially when a student just needs to be directed a bit with questions. Refusing to help a student just because they don’t like leaning over the table, however, is just something I couldn’t even imagine myself doing. Marking a student’s paper isn’t being too directive to me. And telling a student what to do every now and then most certainly isn’t the sin that Brooks made it out to be. I’m the kind of person who wants to assist students. I’ll take the initiative to help anyone who uses enough of their own drive to actually come for that help. It doesn’t matter to me if I have to drag the horse the entire way and shove its head into the lake, or if I have to casually point the way for a stampede to travel, I’m going to tutor, because that’s why I’m there. One way or another, I took what I could from Mini T’s house before running to catch up with the rest of the group. It wasn’t until I rejoined the group that I learned from Kelly that Brooks was advocating Mini T’s more extreme side, a defensive side, as it were. In shock and pity I paused and took a long glance back towards the disappearing abode of Mini T, hoping that not everyone would only be introduced to only his extremist viewpoints, as I had been…
  With our methods now semi-developed, we left the village and continued onwards. Upon leaving, I couldn’t help but feel as though we were being watched. When I addressed our guide about the issue, she politely informed me that we all were being watched, and that it would come to more than that soon enough. The next day, pondering her message, I found the answer unexpectedly. A wandering man came up to me and requested my help. I didn’t know if I was prepared, but upon seeing Kelly’s approving nod, I did my best to help. Ahvi, one of my colleagues, assisted me in our trial tutoring. Together, our partial methods were enough to get the job done, but not without some work. As the man left, satisfied, Ahvi and I smiled and Kelly, with her slight grin, congratulated us on what was the first of what would become several similar situations. I learned much, and worked on my method that night. I put in ideals like questioning student knowledge and amiability, lined my method with patience, and vowed that the next time a stranger came my way I would be more prepared to assist…
  As we exited the jungle we came upon the Hypothetical Desert, one which might be there one day, but is only an idea now. In the Hypothetical Desert we were assaulted by images of situations that the future could hold for us. Kelly left us to find our own way through the desert, insisting that it would strengthen our resolve and give our methods meaning and purpose if we put them to the test. The situations seemed simple enough, but were challenging nonetheless. Things like “If a student walks in during the last 15 minutes requesting help” or “A student who is in your class and doing the same assignment as you comes in asking for help.” What was I to do with these students? How would I approach them? I sat down amidst the effervescent sands of the Hypothetical Desert and drew pictures with words for answers. ‘Of course I’d help!’ I called to some transient higher being, ‘I don’t care if it’s my classmate or a stranger, whether it’s 2 hours or 10 minutes, I’ll do what I can.’ The not-entirely-existent sands parted and I found I was already on the other side, looking at Kelly’s thin smirk. “Well done.” She said to the entire group, which I suddenly noticed around me. Having overcome the Hypothetical Desert, we moved onwards, more sure of ourselves than ever…
  Over the next few weeks of traveling, I encountered several different personages, each of which brought with them a unique problem for me to solve. Some needed no help at all, while others needed more than I could possibly give by myself with my still incomplete method. I studied late into the nights, flipping through my book of entries from previous explorers as well as a copy of You and Your Method that I’d borrowed from Ahvi. “Just learn,” the guidebook to my method read, “And your method shall learn with you” (Felanore 45). But in all of my searching I found little more than scraps of useful information amongst the multitude of words. Had I already learned everything that I needed to know about Tutoring? Was the rest all just grammar, syntax, rhetoric and the other nuances of English? It couldn’t be, there was still more of Peer Tutordia to view, so I couldn’t have learned all I needed just yet. There was something out there… and several days later I found out what it was…
  Near the end of our trek through Peer Tutordia we came upon the ESL Sea. It would come to be a defining moment in my method’s development, because the inhabitants of the sea would challenge everything we thought we might’ve learned before then. The problems began the moment we arrived. ESLs didn’t speak our language very well, and their culture was vastly different from ours since they lived in the sea rather than on land. In order to cross the sea and return home, we needed to negotiate with these ESLs and hope that it would all work out alright. We stuck around for a while, studying with our guidebooks how others had managed to overcome difficulties with this strange people. After having scanned carefully through the sections in my guidebooks, I was no closer to my answer though. Both authors hadn’t given me any insight whatsoever. When nothing seemed to be enough, I called upon Jake to show me how he managed through this sea whenever he came to it. Without so much as a blink of his eye, Jake launched into action. He approached the ESLs as he approached everyone else, albeit slightly more patiently. There was the legal pad, there was his charming smile, and, of course, there was that look of understanding on the face of those he dealt with. I was told later that I’d fainted from the shock of it. When I woke, I immediately sprang into working on my method. It was so simple. I didn’t have to change the approach I already had just because I was working with someone who was a bit different than me. Why I didn’t think of it before, I’ll never know. With my newfound knowledge, I picked up my method, waited for an ESL to come my way, and then negotiated my way to other side of the ESL Sea. Home was close now… I could feel it…
  As we pushed through the final stretch back towards base camp, I thought back on all I’d accomplished in such a short time. I’d conquered tests of my resolve as a tutor, developed a more perfect method, and had fun along the way. My quest had led me through a treacherous jungle, an intriguing desert, to the dwelling of a difficult creature, across a confusing sea, and I even had enough time to discover a thing or two about myself along the way. Now, looking back on all those moments of uncertainty and doubt I can laugh and tell the story with a grin to anyone who’ll listen. But this is how I came to be who I am today, and what I hope to still be in the future: a Peer Writing Tutor. Take me or leave me, I’ll still be one when you come back from your own journey to whatever strange land it is you yourself visit…

E-I-E-I-End.


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Works Cited
Bruffee, Kenneth. “Peer Tutoring and the ‘Conversation of Mankind’.” Landmark Essays on Writings Centers. Eds, Christina Murphy and Joe Law. Davis: Hermagoras P, 1995. 87-98
Brooks, Jeff. 1991. “Minimalist Tutoring: Making the Student Do All the Work.” In The St. Martin’s Sourcebook for Writing Tutors, eds. Christina Murphy and Steve Sherwood, 168-173. New York: St. Martin’s Press.

Works Supposedly Cited
Hawkaluk, Tyr. The Journal of a Madman in Pursuit of Tutoring. Nowhere, MT: Somebody Publishing Inc. 2009.
Felanore, Ian. You and Your Method. Nowhere, MT: Somebody Publishing Inc. 2004.

Experiences Cited
Feb 12, 2009, Tyr visits Jake at the Writing Center (UM-Missoula, Library).
March 25, 2009, Tyr visits Jake at the Writing Center (UM-Missoula, Library).
Feb 25, 2009 – May 6, 2009, Tyr tutors at Study Jam (UM-Missoula, UC Commons).
Jan 26, 2009 – May 6, 2009, Tyr takes a Tutor Prep Class (UM-Missoula, DHC 118)