LITR 3731 Creative Writing 2008

Tanya Stanley

February 28, 2008

How Can I Help YOU?

Driving across from one parking lot to the parking lot across the street, I arrive at San Jacinto College from home with three minutes until 9:00 a.m.—four minutes until I am late again.  Looking at the available staff parking spaces, I notice all the cars just waiting for their parking tickets because they belong to students who cannot see the bright white “Staff Only” signs.  I finally find a spot not too far from the Student Center; I am ready to start my day.  I walk through the door and the craziness begins.  [What do I do?]

“Good morning!  How are you feeling today?” Allison, the administrative assistance asks like she asks every day like a robot.

“I’m okay, and how are you?” I reply in a please do not tell me about your daughter or husband today request.

Allison replies, of course, with a long drawn-out story about either her teenage daughter or her lazy helpless husband.  I hope her complaints do not last too long today because I have a monstrous stack of paperwork to finish and at least fifteen emails to respond to, to forward to other staff members, or to print for future meetings which I will have to add to my never-ending calendar of events.

“Oh no!  Not another story about Ken buying a piece of welding equipment!  I do not know anything about welding, and my briefcase is really heavy!” I think to myself.  I know if I sit down on the chair that is beside her desk, she will go on and on and on, so I pray my cell-phone rings, her office phone rings, or we have a fire drill.

Oooh! I am in luck; a student arrives and needs to discuss physics tutoring.  I am saved by the non-existent doorbell that rings, in my head, when someone walks through the doorway. 

“Hi, can I help you?” again.  I remember this student.  He either has short-term memory loss, or he refuses to accept the fact that we do not have physics tutoring every day, all day.  I wish I could hear more about Allison’s husband, Ken.  Anything would be better than the same discussion about why the college—the grant, I particular—cannot fund specialty course tutoring to meet the particular needs of this individual student.

“The online tutoring center that San Jacinto College District also pays for is available via the internet and has physics tutoring twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.   Here’s a computer.  Have a seat, and I will show you how to log on to the website” I say to the irate student, as I look at the clock to see only seven minutes have passed since I walked through the door this glorious Tuesday morning.

“No thanks.  I don’t have any time.  I have to go to work.” the student says.

“Ahhh!”  I scream to myself. I do not understand.  You came to the tutoring center to request tutoring in physics, and you complain that the center does not have enough tutors to fit YOUR needs.  I try to teach you how to access the online support, but now you do not have time to be tutored.  What is wrong with you?  Do you want to fail, and then blame the college for not helping you?  Help yourself!

“Okay, well here is a flyer with the online information and steps to access the tutoring.  Have a good day.” I say with a giant smile on my face wishing I could rewind the day and wake up later than usual.

I finally turn on my computer and log into the system.  I only have ten emails to answer, how exciting!  I automatically delete the annoying forwarded messages because if I play their game, I will get sucked into the depths of worthless information, games, or questionnaires.  After starting my responses, the phone rings.

“This is Tanya, how can I help you?

“Hey [girl!] Tanya,” I hear in a wispy voice “this is Jessica [exposition issue: needs development] explain who this is].  I can't come in to work today because I'm not feeling well.”  [how I feel about the situation]

“Okay, that’s fine.  I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you.”

(Now I have to call someone--Great!)  I return to the email I am responding to, and a student comes into the center for math tutoring.  As I walk over to the student who is logging into the computer, I think “Tutoring does not begin until 10:00 a.m., and the clock reads 9:15 a.m.  I still do not understand why people cannot see the GIANT white board right next to the door that has the hours of operation on it, or maybe people just blatantly ignore all the flyers, brochures, bookmarks, web page information which states the centers tutoring schedule.  I could totally understand if I

changed the hours every semester, but the hours have been consistent for two years.”

“Hello, how can I help you?”

“I need help in math.”

“Which math course are you studying?”

“I don’t know?”

You don’t know!  What do you mean you don’t know?  School started six weeks ago?  Looks like it going to be a typical Tuesday.  Most people hate Mondays; I hate Tuesdays.  

“Well, let me see your book.”

“I don’t have my book.”

“Can I see your syllabus?”

“I didn’t bring it; it’s at home.”

Shocking.

I explain to the student that a tutor cannot help her if she does not know which course she is enrolled in, if she does not bring her assignment, or if she does not bring her textbook.  

She stares blankly at me and says “Okay.”

Some days I think my supervisor tests me by sending me the extreme cases, but then one my lead tutors walks in with two students she found studying by themselves.  Makayla is always looking for students to add to the center’s family.  

“Hi Tanya!”

“Hi Makayla!”

“They are studying economics.  I told them that we don’t have a tutor for economics, but that they can study and we have access to the online tutors if they need help.”

“Good job Makayla!

The students log in, and I am reminded that Makayla is my first choice as my replacement when my promotion begins.  I start typing again.  I finish with the emails.  I drink some of melted iced vanilla latte, and call in a replacement for Jessica.  

Now it is time to go the other campus for a meeting with my counterparts.   I arrive on time, and I have to wait for one of the supervisors—shocking.  She arrives and now we only have two and a half hours to discuss everything for the upcoming month.  They complain about their low pay, their co-workers on their individual campuses, and the politics between faculty and staff members.  I listen— like I always do—and think about the productive things I could be doing other than listening about their “crappy” jobs—needless to say, we have the same job.  Our meeting ends and I travel to the other campus to meet with the deans to discuss a pilot program I wish to initiate for students in college-preparatory math courses which has been proven effective at several four-year universities.

“The VSI program sounds interesting, but I don’t think we have money in the budget” says Dean Oliver.

“I think we can fund the program, but we may not be able to find a faculty member to participate since the program is a pilot” Dean Skinner, responds.

“VSI can be partially funded by the Title V grant and Student Development.  We have thirty thousand dollars set aside for innovative initiatives within the grant and Student Development claims to have over two million dollars available” I say.  “As the dean of the math department, you have the authority to strongly recommend a faculty member to participate,” I think to myself.  I await a response…

“We will have to ask the Vice-President of Instruction” claims Dean Oliver.

In other words, no.  I know him—the all knowing, all powerful VPI—and he does not think someone without at least a Bachelor’s degree should be supervising a center, much less supervising a piloted academic program.  How he is still unaware of the fat that I run to academic programs on two of the three campuses within the district I will never know.  “But who else will run a piloted program!” I scream inside, which reminds me of why faculty members do not participate in innovative initiative programs—when they tried to be creative, someone always told them no. 

          Back at my office, I run a report on the lab attendance while I was away and notice that SHE came in.  SHE meaning the student I had kicked out of the lab last night.  SHE would make the pope yell!

“Why did SHE come into the center?” I ask the administrative assistant.

“SHE came to apologize for last night.”

Apology not accepted! [try ctrl+i]

“And why did SHE stay in the center?” I calmly ask again.

“To work on her paper.”

“Did you receive the email I sent to everyone regarding HER and her loss of privileges to use our services and the use of this facility?” I ask knowing Allison can sense my irritation.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal to let her stay if she was calm.”

[To myself:]  Not a big deal…[new paragraph] are you kidding me!  Last night, SHE screamed at me!  SHE threw popcorn all over the floor.  SHE said I was too young to tell her anything because SHE is thirty years my senior, and that there was no quilt in “Everyday Use.”  OMG [say it/wow/seriously]!  Where do they find these people?  I called Dr. Felp— our safe word meaning help me because I am about to come across the table and beat the person I am working with—and I met with one of the tutors.  As we talked about HER, we walked across the hall to have Dr. Felp—(say more directly) code word for campus police—listen to HER yell and be disorderly.

I sat back down and asked the student if she printed her paper, so we could organize it together and she screamed “no!”

“Ma’am, there is no reason to yell.  I am not the cause of your problem or the reason why you are freaking out.  You waited until the day before your deadline to write a paper over a short-story you did not understand” I say with a slight hope Dr. Felp (Find-help), a.k.a. Officer Greg[my hunky hero], will arrest her and maybe use the taser gun—not really, but maybe.

“Well, you don’t know anything about writing papers, and you are too young to be in charge” she shouts bitterly while staring at my black and hot pink fingernails.

I did not have the heart to tell her I am almost thirty, but I can pass for an eighteen year old; although, the thought crossed my mind.

Officer Greg to the rescue…

“Why are you yelling?  Get your stuff and get out of here!  These people are here to help you, not watch a grown woman act like a kid.  They tutor, not babysit.  They have your student ID number, and you will be contacted by an administrator regarding your inappropriate behavior.  Go!”

We all cheered to ourselves.  I cheered loudly in my head!

Office Greg asked, “you okay?”

I just smiled and said “another unforgettable Tuesday.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t work on Tuesdays” he joked.

“If I didn’t work on Tuesday, my job would be boring” I responded.

But you did not think it was a big deal if SHE came in today.  Payback is a bitch!  Just wait until your [Allison] enemy in the career center calls.  I am going to ignore the phone so you have to talk to her.  Or, I could arrange a meeting for all of us to discuss who knows what, and make you sit next to her for two gruesome hours.

“SHE is NOT allowed in here ever again” I say snidely and with authority.

Time for lunch—time to leave this crazy place for an hour or two.  Maybe I will eat in the car and get a deep-tissue massage.  Maybe I will just go home, on second thought, maybe not.   I will just start cleaning something or check my work email.  McDonalds on the road and a hour massage it is.

  cop mediates apology

SHE discusses how she was wrong, but now she is better

describe characters; make it happen in one day

start with popcorn flying in the air (embellish)

wake up/massage first?

start w/ incident, to next morning

comma with response>>variations

link to discussion leader's questions