As of this writing, I have worked two two-hour shifts as an English tutor. It was pretty cool.
I was surprised at how quickly I adjusted my communication style to better fit the kids. For example, at one point I proofread a girl's essay that she wrote on The Scarlet Letter for her English class. This was just a bonus and not required as part of my job, but since part of my professional job is to proofread, I volunteered to look it over. Normally, when I see an error, I simply mark it and indicate what it should be changed to. For this student's paper, however, I would try to mark an error and ask a question about it ("Who are 'they?'") or explain why it was wrong ("Make sure all of the verb tenses match") without actually giving the answer.
The basic set-up for the tutoring center is that, after taking an assessment test and being assigned a particular level in different skill-sets (reading comprehension, vocabulary, spelling, etc.), we take the kids through various activity books. Usually each student will spend an hour each with math and English, but some individuals need more attention on one subject. The boy I helped out with yesterday spent 90 minutes with us on English before switching to math. The activities are pretty basic and I can grade their work without the answer key, but I use it since it's faster.
There are two ways to work with the kids: one-on-one or in groups as large as five, but usually no bigger than three. Typically, we only do one-on-one sessions with the kids if they are younger and need help focusing or if they are really far behind and need extra attention. Even when working with the students individually, we're not alone since there are other tutors nearby working with other kids.
One small complaint that I had is that some of the information in the readers is inaccurate. Not in a critical way, like explaining incorrectly how semi-colons work, but the little stories don't always give the right information. For example, one short paragraph explained that the "funny bone" is so named because it "feels funny" when you bang your elbow, which is patently false (an elbow bone is called a humerus; yes, even orthopedics can make jokes). Does this really matter? Not when it comes to reading comprehension, no, but I still corrected the book because my nerd-sense wouldn't stop tingling.
Erroneous trivial matters aside, I think it's pretty cool being an English tutor. Most of the kids don't want to be there and that sometimes gets in the way of being able to help them, but it's still fun to be paid to explain basic English rules.
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