Beans and Checkmarks

I have – for days now – been reading through paper descriptions, making decisions on whether or not to include them in a comprehensive group analysis. Software exists for such a task and I’m doing the work at Carrie’s request. It’s really not that difficult.

It has, however, felt endless. Nearly 400 conditions in about 100 papers. And reading about how the experiments were done and on which populations and under which specific circumstances – all the while remembering the detailed selection criteria… It makes me very tired. I don’t want to make mistakes so I tend not to work on the little program for very long.

That one stays so I leave that checkmark alone, I think sleepily. This one is werid, so no checkmark for you. Keep, lose, go, stay. All these decisions that were complicated because the application of exclusion criteria isn't always as simple as it seems. I continued to return to the task, scrolling down, making decisions, clicking checkmarks on and off. Finally, I was able to email Carrie the results with some feeling of accomplishment.

I yawned and searched for distractions, noting crossly that few people update blogs on weekends. I would update my blog, I thought, but have nothing to say. I'm starting with a cold, so I'm stuffy and exhausted. All I want to do is sleep and blow my nose. Then I was reminded – via my little software checkmarks – of my tutoring experience. I could tell a story about that!

I see 4 boys in 5th grade on Tuesday afternoons. This caused me a bit of concern until I realized how much I had enjoyed the single male in my group last year. Plus, I’m an adult. I can handle 10 year old boys!

“How many classes are there?” I asked Juan on my first day. I trailed one of the teachers down a hallway in the 5th grade wing of the second floor while we found my 4 new friends.

“Six.” He answered softly, still looking at me with some suspicion. I wasn’t too worried though – I’d come armed with Starbursts.

I happen to adore all of them, proving that prior worry is no indication of future outcome. Having a standard of reference – working with students last year, two of whom arrived to say hello, offer hugs and take candy (I miss them) – makes this tutoring experience infinitely easier. Less stressful. More manageable.

There was one piece of advice the director of the program offered several weeks ago when we met over coffee.

“You can use the activities in any order.” She said, encouraging and kind. “But I wouldn’t do Find That Number until at least the 5th meeting. It’s hard! We don’t want to intimidate our students, do we?”

I shook my head obediently in the coffee shop.

Then I played Find That Number on the first day with my new friends.

In my defense, the folder was on top. Director wanted to show me the game since it was so difficult. I personally liked it, but I could wait until I knew my group better. But after I went through my introductory speech, offered candy and watched them instantly like me (I buy affection – it works.), I pulled out the top folder and asked if anyone had scissors to cut apart the clues.

They were looking for scissors, I was using the giant paper cutter and lamenting the fact that I decided to wing it for this first meeting. I’m better when I plan. But we soldiered on – clustering shoulder to shoulder around the cardboard sheet that listed numbers 0-100 in a grid pattern.

I took out 2 baggies of beans – some white, some brown – and handed the pink clues to Jarrod. He began to read.

After painstakingly making our way through all 6 statements that would lead us to Jarrod's number, I gently nudged them to select the most general clue first – only then remembering that this was one of the most difficult activities we’d have to tackle and wincing. But I’ve long believed that once you’re in the middle of something, you just fake it. Singing a solo, giving a talk, interviewing, talking to a date – just continue on as if everything’s fine and most of the time it will be.

The first piece of information we selected was that Jarrod’s number wasn’t odd. After an intense discussion about which color beans to use, they decided to do a pattern while blocking out the odd numbers so they didn’t distract us from our search. Then we took the small pink paper that indicated multiples of 5 weren’t candidates.

Upon a unanimous decision that the pattern was too complicated (I abstained), we used all brown beans to mark off the squares and listed multiples of 5 to make sure they were all removed from the search. After going through 2 more clues, we were left with a list of 6 possible numbers. Jerome wrote them on the board. After adding the digits of each and seeing if the sum was odd or even, we subtracted the digits to get an integer less than 7.

Much fun was had by all when the five of us stared at a single number circled on the board.

“47!” Jarrod said. “My number was 47!”

After celebrating with Starburst, we did one more. I left feeling pleased with them and eager to return the following week. We’d done the most difficult of activities successfully. I had a bright group, and though they’d tested my limits a bit, it wasn’t bad at all.

But last week was tougher. I had trouble keeping them in the room (everyone needed a drink of water, then the bathroom, then to get a book from his locker) let alone at the table (needed to write on the board, look at those computers, borrow a marker from the library.)

They asked to complete the final 2 Find that Number clue sets so we sat down to work on them.

“This time,” Demarke asked, “can we use the beans to mark numbers that might be right instead of wrong?”

“Sure. Let’s see how that works.” Then I smiled at him and helped define vocab words located on the clues, checked to make sure the beans were in the proper squares and made the right encouraging noises. Then I noticed Juan was scurrying around the room.

“Why don’t you sit down.” I threw over my shoulder, taking a break from my “7 times 1 is… 7 times 2 is … 7 times 3 is…” spiel since Demarke’s number was a multiple of 7.

“Now.” I said a moment later, more firmly and with a questioning look in Juan's direction. “You can work with us or go back to class, Juan. Seriously.”

He moved toward the table, hands full. He had scissors, pencils, markers – all sorts of school supplies. Seeing my frown directed at his loot, he smiled.

“Want a pencil?” He offered one of the 7 he held.

“No, thank you. I think you should put them back. They’re not ours to use. I have a pencil if you need one.”

“We can use them! That’s why they’re there!”

“I don’t know why they’re there. But that box wasn’t open when I got here. I shouldn’t have let you open it. We don’t need those pencils and they’re not mine to give you. Please put them back.”

“There’s this group who uses this room and they give us pencils.”

“A group?”

“Yeah, they come in and play games with this stuff and give us pencils!”

“Put them back. Please.”

“But the group!” He said, shaking his head at me. Then he smirked a little and started to go through the items he’d taken.

I raised my eyebrows at the other boys and they shook their heads at me. I nodded at them and offered more of the minty candy I brought this time.

“Juan.” I demanded his attention. “You will not lie to me. Am I clear? I will not tolerate you lying to me. Ever. About anything. Now you will put the pencils back where you found them. Now.” Realizing I was starting to raise my voice, leaning toward him in a manner that was far too angry for the circumstances, I took a breath. His smirk fell away and he blinked at me. The nice candy lady had a problem with lying. But he moved to put the items away where he found them. I watched, then thanked him. And we went from there, finding 2 more numbers (18 and 45) spent the remainder of the hour quite pleasantly.

I’ve understood last year that I might learn more than the students through this tutoring experience. So far I’ve decided I’m more confident the second time around – less rigid about lesson plans and more comfortable with their questions and ideas. I’ve enjoyed this group a great deal already when I faced last year with a mixture of nerves and intense focus. It’s not bad to relax. The decisions are easier to make somehow. Practice helps.

With maturity, however, comes the ability to use beans to isolate qualities I require from those people with whom I interact. And while I used to enjoy men (or boys) who were charming to get what they wanted, any sort of false statement now draws only wrath.

Whether you’re crossing off the negative or covering the positive so they can be more clearly considered for the next clue, I think it’s important to narrow the field. To make some go/no-go decision on qualities and skills and personalities that are allowed into my life.

Then it’s important to keep those preferences in perspective and not lose it when someone pisses me off. It’s still a work in progress, apparently.

(This didn't end so well, but I'm so intensely tired. I just can't fix it right now. So sleepy...)