Friday, October 5, 2012

Back to School


I started teaching again this week, or more precisely, I returned to the English as Second Language study hall at White Plains High School to offer assistance to students who need help mastering some of their assignments (I stay away from math and most science tutoring). I did not, however, return to my driver’s education seat next to budding motorists.

You probably weren’t aware of my tutorial pursuits, especially the latter endeavor, so I’ll begin there. 

Last September, in search of something to get me outside the house, I decided to become an in-car driver’s ed instructor affiliated with a company hired by numerous school districts in Westchester and surrounding counties. Though I didn’t sign up for the pay ($12 an hour), there were quite a few in my training group who clearly were relying on this opportunity to buttress their household incomes. I was content to teach two or three classes a day, 6 to 12 hours, three days a week; they wanted to sit next to the kids behind the wheel at least 20 hours a week. 

Teaching in-car driver’s ed (there are separate classroom instructors) is not as dangerous as one might think, though I won’t downplay the potential for mishaps. The first day was the most apprehensive, as you had no idea how much experience the students already had. One girl last February started her first lesson by stating she had no desire to learn. She was there because her parents forced her. She related her father took her driving the previous Sunday in an empty parking lot. She hit a light pole!

After the three other students in the car and I gulped and giggled, I confidently told her that wouldn’t happen in driver’s ed because unlike her father’s car, the training car had a dual brake. I would always have my right foot resting on the brake. In an emergency I’d also be able to reach out and seize the steering wheel. That explanation seemed to reassure the other students. She, however, lived up to, or should I say down to, expectations. Halfway through the semester she transferred out of my class. I don’t know if she ever passed a road test. For everyone’s safety, I hope she abandoned her parents’ quest for a license.

Students receive just six hours of driving instruction, usually meted out in 22-1/2 minute sessions per week over the course of 16 classes over four and a half months. New York State requires 50 hours of drive time, including 15 hours nighttime driving, before one can take a road test. Prior to the first day of class many students have logged time behind the wheel. It’s those anxiety provoking students whose parents fear for their lives and automobiles, and who subsequently do not let them practice in the family car (which here in Westchester is often a Mercedes or Lexus or some other luxury vehicle they’d rather not dent, or worse), that made my time as an instructor a potentially challenging experience.

Still, over two semesters we never had an accident. Except once. We were stopped at a traffic light on North Street in Harrison, right across the street from the police station. The three boys sitting in the rear of the Ford Taurus—most of the cars were that model, usually with 150,000 to 225,000 miles—wondered aloud why there were no headrests for the back seats. I had just finished saying headrests weren’t required for these older cars when WHAM!, we were hit from behind. An elderly man driving a new Acura confused his brake pedal with his accelerator and slammed into us. Two of the boys suffered mild whiplash. Both cars sustained no damage, but we spent the next hour in the police station filling out reports. All in all, one of the better real-life driving lessons worth experiencing.

I’m not teaching driver’s ed any longer because an old basketball injury to my right knee flares up when I keep my leg hovering over the brake. By the end of the first class of the day I could barely sit without yelping in pain. It’s too bad. I really enjoyed (most of) the kids, even the ones who put the rest of us in jeopardy when they first got behind the wheel. I enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing them turn into accomplished drivers.

Tutoring English as Second Language students provides even more personal satisfaction. One of our friends runs the program at WPHS. Over dinner at a mutual friends’ home last January, in a moment of weakness, I agreed to spend several hours a week helping out. Though some of the students are less than thrilled to be in study hall, or school in general for that matter, the vast majority are interested in improving their learning skills. 

They come from many countries. This week I tutored students from Haiti, Mexico, Guatemala, Peru, Jamaica and Saudi Arabia. Aside from helping them with reading comprehension, grammar, vocabulary and social studies, they instruct me in some of the customs of their native lands. Once we overcome their initial guarded feeling, after they comprehend I’m not a disciplinarian but rather a helper, they can be eager to share their thoughts. Unsolicited, one girl asked me to read a poem she wrote about the loss of her father. It was beautiful, better than anything I could have written. 

I’ve filled my retirement with a variety of interests. Helping people in need, whether it be delivering food to the elderly, or tutoring students, provides the greatest return on my time investment.