I just keep revising this bad boy, but I know there's more than can be done. I really enjoy my opening paragraph but I feel like the rest is a bit weak... maybe that's just because I've read it a million times? And comments are appreciated.
Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience and its affect on you...
The ten digit number taunted me from its place on the square of adhesive paper as I tried to arrange the spiraling thoughts inside my head. I sat nervously at my desk, a small blue post-it in one hand, my home telephone in the other, and an entire message typed out meticulously on my computer. The palms of my hands became increasingly clammy and my grip on the phone seemed to loosen with time. I never imagined that something as mundane as a telephone call would leave me anxious, yet there I was, writing out an entire manuscript for a two minute conversation. I was determined to find the perfect note of both clarity and, more importantly, speed. My mile-a-minute dialogue would have to be played in slow motion if the recipient of the message was to understand me. How exactly was I going to converse with someone who had little knowledge of the English language?
Thankfully, my first ESL student, a shy yet sweet Korean mother, knew enough English to arrange a time and place for our first meeting. Anxiously, I awaited her arrival at the library while people around me browsed through the shelves of weathered books or played illegal games of Tetris on the computers. I sat at a vacant table and attempted to look open and friendly, and I watched as three other women who matched the description of my student walked in. Each woman seemed to have a direct objective and I knew instantly they were not prospective ESL student. When a hesitant woman entered the library, craning her neck to get a better view of the room, I gave her an exaggerated wave and an encouraging smile.
"Hi, I'm You-Jin." She said, shaking my hand. "Are you Katherine?" I did all I could to hide my sheer enthusiasm. Yes, she spoke with a thick accent that made her difficult to understand, but it was clear she knew some English! I had an innate fear that I would have to resort to hand gestures and pictures to get my point across, but those worries quickly vanished as we began to communicate. In our first lesson, I realized that she would be writing short compositions rather than labeling pictures of fruits. Although her sentences were choppy and she seemed to know only one verb form, I couldn't help but be amazed by her determination.
After the first stressful yet exciting lesson, I realized the importance of mastering the language of the country in which you live. As my students shared their experiences with me, it dawned on me how hard it truly was for them. It's impossible to read a bus map, communicate with a child's school teacher, or explain a sudden rush of acceleration to a police officer without a firm grasp of the native language. Being a tutor spawns a unique form of satisfaction in that I am able to interact with people and see direct results of my efforts. The outcome of the lessons may be intangible, but the change in self-confidence I see in the students is unmistakable. When my first student announced she was moving back to Korea, I knew she was leaving with the ability to successfully communicate and, yes, even use the telephone with confidence. She was replaced, however, with a pang of fear that lodged itself within me. I knew that a nerve-wracking phone call to a new student sat dauntingly in my future.
Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience and its affect on you...
The ten digit number taunted me from its place on the square of adhesive paper as I tried to arrange the spiraling thoughts inside my head. I sat nervously at my desk, a small blue post-it in one hand, my home telephone in the other, and an entire message typed out meticulously on my computer. The palms of my hands became increasingly clammy and my grip on the phone seemed to loosen with time. I never imagined that something as mundane as a telephone call would leave me anxious, yet there I was, writing out an entire manuscript for a two minute conversation. I was determined to find the perfect note of both clarity and, more importantly, speed. My mile-a-minute dialogue would have to be played in slow motion if the recipient of the message was to understand me. How exactly was I going to converse with someone who had little knowledge of the English language?
Thankfully, my first ESL student, a shy yet sweet Korean mother, knew enough English to arrange a time and place for our first meeting. Anxiously, I awaited her arrival at the library while people around me browsed through the shelves of weathered books or played illegal games of Tetris on the computers. I sat at a vacant table and attempted to look open and friendly, and I watched as three other women who matched the description of my student walked in. Each woman seemed to have a direct objective and I knew instantly they were not prospective ESL student. When a hesitant woman entered the library, craning her neck to get a better view of the room, I gave her an exaggerated wave and an encouraging smile.
"Hi, I'm You-Jin." She said, shaking my hand. "Are you Katherine?" I did all I could to hide my sheer enthusiasm. Yes, she spoke with a thick accent that made her difficult to understand, but it was clear she knew some English! I had an innate fear that I would have to resort to hand gestures and pictures to get my point across, but those worries quickly vanished as we began to communicate. In our first lesson, I realized that she would be writing short compositions rather than labeling pictures of fruits. Although her sentences were choppy and she seemed to know only one verb form, I couldn't help but be amazed by her determination.
After the first stressful yet exciting lesson, I realized the importance of mastering the language of the country in which you live. As my students shared their experiences with me, it dawned on me how hard it truly was for them. It's impossible to read a bus map, communicate with a child's school teacher, or explain a sudden rush of acceleration to a police officer without a firm grasp of the native language. Being a tutor spawns a unique form of satisfaction in that I am able to interact with people and see direct results of my efforts. The outcome of the lessons may be intangible, but the change in self-confidence I see in the students is unmistakable. When my first student announced she was moving back to Korea, I knew she was leaving with the ability to successfully communicate and, yes, even use the telephone with confidence. She was replaced, however, with a pang of fear that lodged itself within me. I knew that a nerve-wracking phone call to a new student sat dauntingly in my future.