Three hard days and a revelation

After the nice week we had, I headed into Monday enthusiastically. It wasn't long before I realized it would be a difficult day. He told me that he had been awake since 7 pm the night before. Why? Because. He was crashing.

I thought that it would be a good idea to get food into him, so started the day out with an omelet. Omelets are a part of one of our nutrition sections. We reviewed the pros and cons of eggs, how to handle them, and how to cook them. We made a yummy cheese omelet; it wasn't the prettiest thing ever, but it was still yummy. During our cooking, he decided to have some coffee to wake himself up; I know better. I told him to take it easy, but as my back was turned, he downed two cups. Two LARGE cups. I was concerned, but knew that he would need a jump start to get going, so I just went with it and hoped for the best. I'm a caffeine junkie myself, so I feel funny getting onto him about it when I have a Rockstar on hand at all times. He enjoyed his omelet, and we began into our vocabulary flash cards for the week. After that, we got our Algebra started (I received the book over the weekend) and quickly moved through the first lesson (where he made a 100% on the questions). We then switched back to completing the nutrition questions for some of our cooking projects. It was at this point that I realized we were having some trouble.

He became what I could only describe as "out of whack." We tried answering simple yes or no questions, and it got to where we were taking thirty minutes to answer eight of these. Every other comment was something completely off subject; I had to redirect him every chance I got, but it got to where he didn't even hear me. At one point, I was really concerned about him. He started just spouting out nonsense; It was difficult to get his attention, let alone get him on task. I begged him to focus, even if it was just a little. I had to make him finish the word "yes" on occasion. It was like pulling teeth.

We eventually got through some nutrition lessons and another algebra lesson. It was as this point that he completely crashed. I decided to leave the lesson incomplete. We did get some things done, so I had to look on the bright side, but holy crap was I exhausted.

I came in on Tuesday a little on the down side. When I came in, he was working on the algebra lesson I had left for him. A positive start, however, it was not indicative of what was to come. Once I graded it, we started chatting about what we were doing for the day. We got onto many topics: philosophy of learning, knowledge, and education, psychology, individualism, time-space continuum, motivation, happiness, medication. We had a fantastic conversation. I wasn't opposed to spending this time; what we were discussing had him interested and was planting seeds of motivation and thought. "We should make one of your electives philosophy," I joked with him. He thought it was a great idea. We digressed.

I told him our agenda for the day, and he said to me, “You think we can get this done in an hour?” It wasn’t possible, as far as I was concerned. But I didn’t want to discourage his momentum, so I said let’s go for it.

He whizzed through some world geography worksheets and started into making flash cards for his nutrition before he lost momentum. “How much time do we have left?" he asked me.

"Thirty minutes. But, if we go over, it's really not disappointing to me. I think you're doing a great job, so keep it up."

He had an unfortunate revelation. "Why am I trying to do this in an hour? When I'm done, it's not like I have anything to do...so fuck it." He got up. I tried to reel him back in.

"Doesn't mean we don't have work to do here. Come on, let's switch gears if you're bored with the nutrition, we can work on that tomorrow, and let's get to our math. Don't give up on this so soon, you are completely and totally capable of accomplishing this."

"Nah. Just give me a minute."
A minute turned into much longer. He got to the point where he was staring into space and saying nothing. I tried to restart his drive. "Try to pull yourself out of this, don't let whatever this is take control." He was completely in control. He just didn't want to do anymore. I started into the algebra lesson, only to get little response and blank stares. He had ZERO motivation to do anything.

"You know what, let's get some fresh air," I said. We took a walk around the block. Not much was said. I tried to get a little out of him, what are you thinking, feeling, etc. He just shrugged. I did my best to encourage him without being annoyingly positive. Even I was starting to feel a little down.

"You know what," I said, "Let's call it a day. You have a redo on that spelling quiz tomorrow. Why don't you study your words tonight, and that'll be all you need to focus on between now and then. Regroup and we'll tackle it again tomorrow."

'I'm kinda depressed," he told me.

"About what?" He just shrugged.

"I don't know."

I reminded him that while we've had a rough end to our day, he did some worksheets and did a great job on them. I tried to focus on the positive, told him to just relax, and reminded him that I believed in his abilities. He smiled a little.

Wednesday, he took his quiz, we did algebra, we had another philosophical, and as usual, all of this took forever. His attention span just isn't there. It was a rough day, and it left me thinking...

On the way home, it occurred to me one thing is was doing wrong....or was I? Mental stamina is a lot like physical stamina. It builds. Trevor has been out of school for a long time. Even when he was in it, he wasn't doing his work. How can I expect someone to run a marathon when they've never run a mile? I was trying to work on my level, which is at marathon stage after many years of hard work in college. I realized that we are going to have to work on his stamina; he burns out after a few short exercises. I know that there is a desire and motivation problem complicating this- I haven't forgotten that. But what I realized is that what effort he has been giving me is all that he's ever had to give. I would have to build on it.

I also realized another thing I was doing: I was trying to cram him into this unrealistic school schedule I had built. Just like Trevor, trying to do all of his work in an hour, I was trying to fit 2 1/2 years worth of school into one year. Could I do that at my marathon level? Probably. Could he? probably not. So is it fair that I rush him through it? He deserves to enjoy this time and truly learn from it, not be pushed through. That doesn't mean that he can waltz through it in four years, but I need to be more realistic in my expectation of him. He's working through more problems than I have taken the time to realize, and it's naturally going to slow us down until we get some kinks worked out.

Another thing: he needs to learn more than just academics. He is missing his basic study skills, self-motivation skills, and much more. Here I am focusing on academics when he doesn't have the tools to accomplish them. I would have to rethink my entire curriculum, I decided. For Trevor, this isn't just an academic process, it's a growing process. When we complete this giant task, he needs to know more than just grammar and math skills, he needs to be able to function in the real world. I need to give him more. It was a lot to think about, and it brought on a little self-doubt in me.

I had a rough time in high school myself. In some ways, I was a lot like Trevor. Could I use my personal experience to aide his? Was I capable of taking this on? What about my doctorate? What makes me the right or wrong person for this? Am I strong enough? Is he? So many questions; I had dreams about it all night. In the morning, I woke up with some new ideas.