How Being a Tutor Changed My Life

   Growing up in a small town in New Jersey I was not the nicest person.  I was make fun of for my crooked bangs, my mismatched clothes, and the fact I had knock off crocs instead of the real kind because at the time if you were the real deal you wore crocs…haha.

                               

So of course when the “cool” girls would make fun of me I did what any other civilized seven year old would do, I threw my pudding at them.  Of course that did not go over well with my parents, but those girls never made fun of me again.  It soon clicked in my young second grade mind that if you were mean and showed that no one could mess with you, no one would.  After two year of living in New Jersey, like every two years, we were packing our bags and      headed to a new part of the country.  This place just happened to be called Springfield, Virginia.  Given Springfield, Virginia is no New York, it is no San Diego, and it is certainly no Dallas, Texas which is where we longed to because family, but it is peaceful and will do for two years.  I was somewhat awkward walking into my first day of fourth grade, for I had no idea how to react to people when they weren’t making fun of me.  So I walked over to the nearest open desk, sat my old brown Jansport backpack on the ground, and began to doodle on my notebook.  After about five minutes of just sitting there, I began to look around the classroom and noticed everyone seemed to be doing the math problems that were written on the board.  I had no idea how to do them, but I was not about to look stupid and ask for help.

            “Do you need help?” The girl next to me smiled.  I was stunned and a little confused, no one had ever really ask to help me…  My face turned red and I shook my head.

            “Well okay,” she said in a somewhat loud voice, showing her natural boisterous side, “just let me know!” 

            “Okay,” I managed to sputter out very quietly.

            “So what’s your name?” she shot back before I even had a moment to pick up my pencil.

            “Um Olivia,”  I answered, bracing myself for some rude remark since I was used to being made fun of from the color of my nails to my name.

            “Cool!! My name’s Jill!” 

            “NO WAY THAT’S MY COUSIN’S NAME,” I exploded by mistake.  “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean, um, to yell…” I said quietly tucking back into my shell.

            “WHAT NUH UH I NEVER MEET ANYONE WITH MY NAME,” she began bouncing in her seat.

            “Girls, please,” My teacher hissed.

            “Oh sorry,” we both giggled.

            After years of being friends, I began to realize what it is actually like to be nice and began to come out of my shell.  One of my good friends, Nicole, who sat next to me in chorus always talked about how wonderful the Writing Center was and how I should really look into it due to my love for helping people and my now bubbly personality.  I was already looking for another elective since my PE years were finally coming to an end, so I thought why not?  The first time I tutored, as cheesy as this sounds, was actually life changing.  To see the way the tutees eyes light up when you help fix their essay or teach them a new strategy is fantastic, and it just makes me want to help more.  Working in the Writing Center has not only made me a better person, but it has taught me many different skills I will use later in life, like patients, ability to see things through a different perspective, and has made me an all-around more understanding person.  Becoming a writing center tutor has definitely been one of the best decisions I have ever made.

If you or anyone is having an issue with bullying please visit the website for help http://www.pacer.org/bullying/

Or just need someone to talk to please email me at livlozano98@gmail.com