Tutoring M

I’m up in Boston for a couple of days. I came up to spend some more time with my nephew M, getting him ready for the SAT. I’m finding that much of what I do with kids is teach them–in a way, the test is irrelevant. M. is learning how to parse sentences from me, something you need to do fast, almost instinctively, for the test. He lives in a wealthy town with a good school district, but he says he hasn’t had grammar since 7th grade because the teachers are afraid of boring the kids.

It’s fun working with M. He’s my younger nephew, and often got lost in the shuffle. He’s quiet, too. My sister reminisced about birthday parties when he and his brother were younger. His brother’s friends were “awful. They bounced off the walls. I finally opened the back door and chased them outside.” M’s friends, on the other hand “sat quietly on the living room floor and played with TOYS!” M. does seem to enjoy baiting his father, however. My BIL does love to lecture and wants M. to do sensible things that he himself never did, so M makes sure to avoid doing sensible things.

My sister occasionally asks questions about the past or reminisces. Over Christmas she asked about an occasion that I completely forgot, when I was around 13 and immersed in a huge depression that had 2 more years to go. Apparently I was just staring out into space and she thought I was angry at her. She said she realized recently that I was more likely being depressed. From what I remember of myself back then, that was probably the case, just weary and empty.

A happier memory–where were we when John Glenn went around Earth? I was in second grade, and they brought all the kids into the auditorium where there were two televisions on high stands, and we stayed there for a very very long time watching. I remember how the image looked, black and white and grainy, an astronaut sitting there. They told us we should be impressed, so I was. My sister was too young for school yet, so she was with our mother, who was ironing with the tv on. I loved that little image of Mom and my little sister, in that cozy domestic scene, watching John Glenn.