Stood Up
I'm not the kind of girl who takes getting stood up lightly. So you can imagine my annoyance when my date last night simply failed to show up.
What makes the whole situation even worse was that it wasn't a romantic prospect, but the 13-year-old boy I tutor every Wednesday. Since this week is his spring break and tutoring was cancelled, we had agreed to go do something fun--no studying required.
A few weeks ago, he had mentioned how much he liked s'mores, so immediately I thought of taking him to Cosi. I asked him about it, he sounded excited. We made plans. I asked his mother.
And when I showed up last night at 6:30 to pick him up, he was nowhere to be found.
Stepping out of the car, his little sister, sitting on the stoop of their row house, called out to me, "You're Michael's tutor? Here to pick up Michael?" "Yes," I said, smiling. "Is he here?"
The small gaggle of children then led me across the street, through their dank, neighrborhood alleys, to the playground--a fence-enclosed parking lot next to their elementary school. But Michael wasn't there. "He went with his friends somewhere," they told me. "He knew you were coming."
Waiting on the steps in front of his house, a number of his siblings came out to greet me. "Where are you guys going?" they all asked. "Can I come, too?"
But there was no trip to be had--by 7 p.m., I gave up waiting and got dejectedly into my car.
It wasn't so much that I was angry, more that I was worried. Am worried. Each week, I see this boy slip a little further away. His reading skills are not improving; his grades are slipping; he hangs out with friends that consistently make him late to tutoring. And his younger brother confirmed for me last night that they are no good. "He does bad things with them," he told me. He didn't elaborate. But I assume that bad things at 13 will continue to spiral to worse things.
It's a rough neighborhood they live in; they live a rough life. And being a part of his life for one and a half hours each week just won't cut it. I'm powerless, and it makes me miserable.
What makes the whole situation even worse was that it wasn't a romantic prospect, but the 13-year-old boy I tutor every Wednesday. Since this week is his spring break and tutoring was cancelled, we had agreed to go do something fun--no studying required.
A few weeks ago, he had mentioned how much he liked s'mores, so immediately I thought of taking him to Cosi. I asked him about it, he sounded excited. We made plans. I asked his mother.
And when I showed up last night at 6:30 to pick him up, he was nowhere to be found.
Stepping out of the car, his little sister, sitting on the stoop of their row house, called out to me, "You're Michael's tutor? Here to pick up Michael?" "Yes," I said, smiling. "Is he here?"
The small gaggle of children then led me across the street, through their dank, neighrborhood alleys, to the playground--a fence-enclosed parking lot next to their elementary school. But Michael wasn't there. "He went with his friends somewhere," they told me. "He knew you were coming."
Waiting on the steps in front of his house, a number of his siblings came out to greet me. "Where are you guys going?" they all asked. "Can I come, too?"
But there was no trip to be had--by 7 p.m., I gave up waiting and got dejectedly into my car.
It wasn't so much that I was angry, more that I was worried. Am worried. Each week, I see this boy slip a little further away. His reading skills are not improving; his grades are slipping; he hangs out with friends that consistently make him late to tutoring. And his younger brother confirmed for me last night that they are no good. "He does bad things with them," he told me. He didn't elaborate. But I assume that bad things at 13 will continue to spiral to worse things.
It's a rough neighborhood they live in; they live a rough life. And being a part of his life for one and a half hours each week just won't cut it. I'm powerless, and it makes me miserable.
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