Posted 5 years, 1 month ago mid-afternoon by oso
Note: This post is the third in a series. Here are parts one and two.
And so the first year of tutoring at Gompers continued on. Every Tuesday and Thursday I would wake up at 5:45 am, go for a quick jog, shower, make my coffee and drive the 30 minutes to Gompers High. There were a couple mornings when the rest of the guys were still awake and wasted as I was heading out the door and by the end of the year, the early mornings took their toll on me.
Every Wednesday night we would have our weekly tutor/mentor meetings. It was meant to be a time to exchange ideas, share experiences, but mostly we just rolled our eyes while the program director laughed at his own jokes, shoulders shaking, and then got upset when he realized we were all sedated with boredom. We were on the clock. We maintained.
There was, however, one part of the job which tortured me. Every Wednesday we had to turn in our Tutor Weekly Report; a two page report of what we did each day, what we learned, how we helped, how we could have done better, blah, blah, blah. The purpose of the bullshit tutor weekly report:
- Make sure the tutors are doing their job
- Make sure the teachers are doing their job
- Charting students’ progress
- Getting grant money for EAOP
You have no idea how much I struggled with these god damned weekly reports. They wanted us to recount the same bullshit cliches. A weekly, telenovela version of Stand and Deliver. I wouldn’t do that though and I’d literally spend hours each week trying to come up with something that was not bullshit nor depressing even though I’m sure they were never read. Of course, in retrospect, it was worth the time since I can look back on the experience and see how it changed me and how I grew without romaticizing it.
The summer that followed my first year at Gompers was a much needed break. It was the typical madness in Pacific Beach. Block Party, my birthday, 4th of July, and all the drunken haze in between. It was the same summer I met Laura. The same summer someone woke me up underneath a dumpster and told me I should get home and take a shower. It was a good summer.
Come September and more classes, more Gompers. But something strange and unexpected happened. Within a matter of a couple weeks I was accepted and trusted by nearly every single student there.
Partly responsible:
- I spoke Spanish
- I played basketball
- Good taste in hip hop
- A couple of the girls had crushes on me
- My girlfriend was
LatinaMexican - My car looked like it belonged in a junk yard
- I was that dorky white kid
In fact, I had somewhat of an advantage over the other tutors at Gompers. The students were almost split right down the middle – 50% Black and 50% Latino. And when I say split down the middle, I mean down the middle of the classroom. A few of the seniors would cross the color divide, but it was rare. So the Black students would immediately gravitate towards the Black tutors and the Latino students to the Latino tutors. I was in a unique position to be able to walk in both camps and demand a certain level of respect.
I said that “I was accepted and trusted by nearly every single student there,” but there was one very notable exception. Donnel despised me the moment I first asked him if he needed any help with his homework. I had never talked to him before, but the very first thing he said without ever looking up was “nah man, stop buggin.”
And so I did. As the weeks went on it became pretty obvious that Donnel was one of the most intelligent kids in the class … when he went.
He was also the most popular.
When a student sitting next to him would call me over for help, he’d say, “yo man, what do you think that white boy’s gonna do for you? Look at me nigger, I’m 16 years old with my own company and making mines.”
Donnel cleaned carpets after school and on the weekends. And probably during school too. The only time we actually had a conversation, he explained his business to me. He rented the equipment from his uncle who cleaned carpets for a living. He made the payments on his car (which he reminded me was much nicer than my own) with the money he made (“under the table, dog”) and still had plenty left over to buy Fubu and Addidas. And he was god damned tired nigger of bitch-ass crackers like you coming in here and telling my peoples what they should do with their lives when I’ve already got a nicer ride than you do so why don’t you take your white ass back to the suburbs and use the money they be paying you to fix up this fucking shit hole of a school.
I related to Donnel a lot. I used to also ditch school to work extra hours and save up money.
I nodded my head, got up, and went over to another student who needed my help on a question about scientific notation.
I think most of the other tutors in EAOP would have tried making Donnel their “special project.” You know, “show him the light.” I left him alone. I think he probably taught me more about life than I ever could have taught him with my negative exponents and scientific notation.
We never really talked again and he was the only one not to shake my hand and wish me well on my last day at Gompers. I do, however, think of him from time to time and wonder what he is up to these days. I have a feeling he is doing just fine.
To be continued …
Are you sure that you having a Latina girlfriend helped? Usually when I see a white guy with a Latina or an Asian woman, I question their intentions.
Why? could it be possible that people go together because they like each other and have things in common? Why does seeing two people of the same race together make you more comfortable?
Elena,
Good point. From my experience about half Latinos seem to feel more comfortable with me because Laura is Mexican and about half seem to be more skeptical/distrustful. Maybe the truth is that most feel a little of both.
Anyway, I wrote that because she came to Gompers with me one day and the students thought she was a goddess.
Beckie,
I wish it was that simple. Laura and I love each other very much. Like you said, we have a lot in common and straight up, we just enjoy being together. But, inevitably, (and no matter if we are here or in Mexico) the assumption is that she is looking for money and citizenship and I am looking for something exotic.
I can’t see that stereotype changing for a long long time. Even some of my friends have it.
Elena,
Just outta curiosity. Is it only with Latina and Asian women that you question White guys’ intentions? And is it only White guys or would a Latino man with an Asian woman also raise your suspicions?
Just to clarify, because this was an Early Academic Outreach Program, the students you were working with were already identified as UC eligible, no?
I don’t think I would have been able to wake up so damn early twice a week to go tutor/mentor. I complain about having 8:30 am class. I prefer my after school programs.
Cindy,
Good point. Official policy was … we were given a list of “RYA students” for each class we tutored in and we were supposed to focus on getting them admitted into the UC system. That after all was the whole point of the program – bumping up UC diversity stats.
It varied with each tutor how much he/she followed that policy. I didn’t follow it at all. Most all the RYA students also came from the families which gave them the most support and they also received the most attention from their teachers. I worked with and offered help to any student who asked for it. And some who didn’t.
Beckie,
I absolutly believe that people can (and do) fall in love with people of a different gender, economic status, race, ethnicity etc.
I once saw Sista Soulja give a presentation where she encouraged “black men” to date “black”. So my question then becomes what is black? Should a half-black man date a half-black woman? How much is “enough black”? I am “mixed” or as I often jokingly refer to myself as a “halfie”. I hate the term mixed. If I only dated someone of my same mixed ethnicity I’d most likely be left with only my brother as an option.
Oso,
I started to write you an answer here but it went on and on. And I don’t want to take over your blog with my rants. I am going to respond to questions on my blog. If you want it here I can paste the response here and take down my entry.
Hey Oso,
Again…good stuff. I have a lot to say on this topic, but I have a feeling that people will tend to read what I didn’t mean to say, than what I meant to say. Stuff as sensitive and generalized as this, is best left up to personal conversation. So I tend to shy away from going too far off on this topic.
With that said…I can understand why my Mexican/Latino/Hispanic/Whatever buds started to like you after they started seeing some of them inside of you. I think everybody, no matter who you are, hates to be someone elses charity ‘event’; they hate to be liked not because of who you are, but because of what you are.
With all those unique things about you, they started to feel like you were really there out of a sincere desire to help, and not just to satisfy your own guilt or ‘charity requirements’.
This is one of the primary reasons I consider you my friend. I could tell that overall, we would be friends even if I was a white rich guy like your limousine liberal friends. In other words, we are friends because you genuinely get along and like people with my personality, and even my cultural background (Mexican). I am not some charity event, where you feel you have to like me because of some guilt, or desire to be ‘diverse’ or any of that crap. I am just your friend who happens to be Mexican also…Not the other way around.
Like I said, hard to explain, but easy to identify.
Btw, like my pic?
It’s nice, HP, although yours isn’t as lifelike as mine.
HP,
Well said man. The pic’s looking good. Such a lady’s man.
Derek,
True.
That is something I have found to be quite surprising in SoCal. Before I came down I was aware that the border would create some very different stereotypes, but never expected “for money and citizenship and I am looking for something exotic.” to be a popular opinion. Perhaps this is just naive of me, but until moving here I had never encountered the ‘exotic fixation’ (fact or rampant myth). I haven’t lived anywhere else in the US, but I am curious to know if these stereotypes extend to other parts of the country, or are just a result of the US/Mex border.
Interestingly enough, I get a little bit of the money/citizenship/whatever curiosity because my wife is 13 years older than I. I’m pretty sure I’m not exotic though. Haha.
ChrisN, The exotic fixation exists throughout the US. I am smack in the middle of Ohio and trust me it exists.
La migra me la pela ese!
Been thinking about this minority stuff at el Oso’s. It’s a three part post on that and conservatives.
I never felt a minority in California. While I grew up some of my chilhood in the SF area and most of my 20’s in Redwood City and San Diego it…
Hmmm, am not sure that I identify with that pic there Oso, but I gues there’s no harma done
You have no idea how much I struggled with these god damned weekly reports.
–OSO
That’s hard for me to believe….you do such a good job at reflecting.
i thought it was “got” damned reports…..hee hee…….just kiddin’.
Chris,
I consider anyone who says “aboot” to be exotic.
Julio,
Somehow the script got messed up and confused you for your wife. Just kiddin’ – you gotta go sign up for a Gravatar.
DD,
Thanks. Now if I could only do 1/50th the amount of sit-ups as you can. (I’m pretty sure I can do more than HP though)
o
This is the fourth post in a series of five. Here are parts one, two, and three. Semantics The meaning or the interpretation o [...]
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