How to be a Kumon Tutor
I wrote this as an assignment for creative writing. The prompt was dealing with the "How To..." self-help books and I chose the fateful task of being a Kumon Tutor as a premise for a terrible terrible tragedy which I and my fellow employees had to endure first hand. I hope this speaks for us all...
First you need to get used to rooms with no windows that are illuminated solely by florescent lighting. You need to be comfortable with close quarter contact with your students and fellow tutors in the small square bungalow with the white plaster walls chipping apart just like the sense of pride and excitement you entered the job with. Make sure to supply your own white board markers, they won’t be provided. Bid adieu those days when you bragged about getting your first job all on your own to your parents and friends and realize that you essentially offered your happiness away to your sneaky and frightening dementor-like boss. You fell for the trap of eight dollars an hour under the table cash in compensation for your joy of living. You are in Azkaban and there’s no way out.
You need to have patience. Understand that the kids simply cannot grasp subtraction and it’s your job to deal with it. Explain to them that two minus two does not equal eight and that they cannot draw vertical lines through subtraction signs to make it an addition problem because they don’t like subtracting. Explain to them that you don’t want to be here either. You need to empathize with each other since you are both in the same frustrating and futile predicament of being forced to do something you don’t want to. When the kids slack off and choose not to do their work, you must recite one of the supposedly motivating posters on the walls. In this case the one about focus with a picture of a bald eagle soaring into the horizon and under it the saying, “If you chase two rabbits, both will escape.” Tell your students that because they aren’t able to focus on their math homework, they too like the bald eagle will die from starvation. You need to employ fear.
You will understand fear first hand from your Stalin-like boss, Mrs. Jones, examining your every move to make sure you’re performing to your fullest potential. Her eyes are like Big Brother and are constantly watching over your shoulder and examining your interaction with the kids as well as your productivity or, hopefully not, lack thereof. Get used to those eyes slowly roaming around the room from tutor to tutor as if in search for prey. Once you get caught making a mistake, Mrs. Jones will casually get up from her desk and walk over to your table trying to be as inconspicuous as possible even though her high heels hammer down on the bungalow floor beneath her with every step. She’ll greet you with a seemingly sincere smile but glare right into your soul and ask you a question that is harmless on the surface such as, “how is everything going here?” but can be translated to, “you better shape the fuck up or you’re done.” You can try to convince yourself that being fired is exactly what you want and attempt ignite a small, delicate flame of hope for escape in your heart but she can sense it and is quick to extinguish any sparks. Mrs. Jones doesn’t like employees feeling any other emotion than distress and will ask you to stay after your shift and have a one-on-one conference with her during which she will re-educate you on what it means to be an acceptable employee in her union.
even the logo is sad...
First you need to get used to rooms with no windows that are illuminated solely by florescent lighting. You need to be comfortable with close quarter contact with your students and fellow tutors in the small square bungalow with the white plaster walls chipping apart just like the sense of pride and excitement you entered the job with. Make sure to supply your own white board markers, they won’t be provided. Bid adieu those days when you bragged about getting your first job all on your own to your parents and friends and realize that you essentially offered your happiness away to your sneaky and frightening dementor-like boss. You fell for the trap of eight dollars an hour under the table cash in compensation for your joy of living. You are in Azkaban and there’s no way out.
You need to have patience. Understand that the kids simply cannot grasp subtraction and it’s your job to deal with it. Explain to them that two minus two does not equal eight and that they cannot draw vertical lines through subtraction signs to make it an addition problem because they don’t like subtracting. Explain to them that you don’t want to be here either. You need to empathize with each other since you are both in the same frustrating and futile predicament of being forced to do something you don’t want to. When the kids slack off and choose not to do their work, you must recite one of the supposedly motivating posters on the walls. In this case the one about focus with a picture of a bald eagle soaring into the horizon and under it the saying, “If you chase two rabbits, both will escape.” Tell your students that because they aren’t able to focus on their math homework, they too like the bald eagle will die from starvation. You need to employ fear.
You will understand fear first hand from your Stalin-like boss, Mrs. Jones, examining your every move to make sure you’re performing to your fullest potential. Her eyes are like Big Brother and are constantly watching over your shoulder and examining your interaction with the kids as well as your productivity or, hopefully not, lack thereof. Get used to those eyes slowly roaming around the room from tutor to tutor as if in search for prey. Once you get caught making a mistake, Mrs. Jones will casually get up from her desk and walk over to your table trying to be as inconspicuous as possible even though her high heels hammer down on the bungalow floor beneath her with every step. She’ll greet you with a seemingly sincere smile but glare right into your soul and ask you a question that is harmless on the surface such as, “how is everything going here?” but can be translated to, “you better shape the fuck up or you’re done.” You can try to convince yourself that being fired is exactly what you want and attempt ignite a small, delicate flame of hope for escape in your heart but she can sense it and is quick to extinguish any sparks. Mrs. Jones doesn’t like employees feeling any other emotion than distress and will ask you to stay after your shift and have a one-on-one conference with her during which she will re-educate you on what it means to be an acceptable employee in her union.
even the logo is sad...
Labels: death, dementors, depression
posted by brybrykang at
11:47 PM
4 Comments
