PART ONE:
After serving 22 years in the U.S. Army and surviving tough, challenging assignments in Germany, Bosnia, and Hungary, I retired in 1999 in Vilseck, Germany, a tranquil village in eastern Germany near the Slovakian border. I chose to remain in Germany because I had become immersed in its culture, was comfortable in the environment, and appreciated the strong ties to my heritage. Vilseck was home to Rose Barracks, a sprawling U.S. Army training area that served as a constant reminder of the military life I had left behind. I was a little scared because my once fast-paced, high-intensity routine had slowed to an almost complete standstill in this sleepy country town. I had spent years operating in a world of structure, urgency, and discipline, and now, for the first time in my life, I was left wondering what I would do next. The uncertainty of civilian life felt more scary than any deployment I had faced.
But there I was. Facing another chapter of my life. I had all the time in the world on my hands. I hadn’t yet decided to look for a job, so I considered giving back to the community using one of my skills. English had always been one of my strong suits, so I volunteered as a tutor for elementary school children—free of charge.
I visited the Army Community Services (ACS). This organization provided a wide range of educational programs, special events, counseling services, and resources tailored to support the needs of military families, retirees, and civilians.
After completing the necessary paperwork and submitting my information, I returned home, eagerly anticipating calls from parents seeking tutoring help for their children. I thought my phone would be ringing off the hook. But the calls never came. I found it hard to believe that every elementary school student excelled in English. And I was offering my tutoring service for free! How hard could it be to find someone who needed extra help?
As the weeks passed without a single inquiry, my initial excitement gave way to disappointment. I had expected at least a few calls, but none came. Then, after nearly a month, ACS finally called.
A woman was looking for a tutor for her 9-year-old son, who was struggling in History and Reading. Without hesitation, I accepted the opportunity. But just before ending the call, the ACS representative added one last detail—the child had ADHD. She asked if that would be an issue. I told her no. I lied to accept the challenge.
The truth was, I had never worked with—or even been around—anyone with ADHD, let alone a child. But I refused to let that stop me. I was ready to take on the challenge, even if I had no idea what I was stepping into. Determined to be prepared, I scoured the internet to research information on how to effectively tutor a child with ADHD.
During my research, I discovered that much of the available information highlighted the typical behavior patterns of children with ADHD, particularly their struggles with inattentiveness and their tendency to become bored quickly. Recommended strategies for working with them included structured repetition, gentle encouragement, and an abundance of patience. Reflecting on my years of experience managing soldiers, I realized I had already mastered many of these techniques.
Despite the challenges I had faced during my military career—successful tours of duty and assignments in parts of the world that many people never get to see—tutoring this child turned out to be one of the most fulfilling roles I had ever taken on.
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MY FIRST SESSION WITH DANIEL
On the day of my first session, I arrived at their on-post residence ahead of my scheduled time, eager to get acquainted with the family but, most importantly, with their child. After I rang the doorbell, a gracious woman greeted me warmly and invited me inside. Then, she led me to their spacious dining area, where she kindly offered me a seat at the table to set up for the session. Although I brought some writing tablets and pencils, some books, a few tablets, and pencils all belonging to her son were already on the table. She told me that her husband was at work. Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to meeting him in person.
I talked with her for a few minutes to tell her more about myself and to allow her the opportunity to ask any questions she might have for me. She said that her son was upstairs, but before calling him downstairs, she gave me some background information about him, allowing me to better understand his needs and tailor my approach to our tutoring sessions.
She told me that his name was Daniel and that he was 12 years old and very shy. According to her, his teachers had tried everything to help him academically. One teacher suggested that she hire a tutor. She asked me to focus on his history and English classes as he was struggling in both subjects. I shared a lighthearted moment with her, telling her that history wasn't my favorite subject either, and that Daniel and I would have this in common. We both laughed at that.
Right from the start, I had a good rapport with Daniel's mother. It was evident that my age and being a black woman with short hair did not faze her in any way. Her demeanor reassured me that Daniel would not have any issues with me either.
As Daniel came downstairs, his shyness was evident as he kept his head down. After his mother introduced us, I saw Daniel's transformation when his smile widened. He looked me in the eyes and extended his hand to shake mine, greeting me as warmly as his mother did. Impressed, I thought, "This kid is wonderful."
He was a lanky kid and almost as tall as I was. Thick brown hair flopped over his forehead and fell to his eyebrows, just short of his big brown eyes. His thick head of hair and brown eyes were clearly two of the physical traits he inherited from his mother. At that moment, he looked perfectly ordinary as I thought, 'He looks like nothing's wrong with him.' I didn't know what I was expecting because I had never worked with a child diagnosed with ADHD. I was eager to wade through these uncharted waters.
His mother then asked me how long I would spend with Daniel. I told her I had planned on two hours, but that I'd take my cue from Daniel as to when enough was enough. She smiled and seemed satisfied with my answer. Then, she left and went to another part of the house.
Daniel sat down next to me at the large, dark wood table in the dining room. I let him get as comfortable as he wanted to for this first session with me.
Leaning on my military experience in teaching soldiers of all ages, backgrounds, races, and cultures, I proceeded slowly like a seasoned educator. I didn't want to jump into the lessons right away before I could build that ever-so-crucial rapport with Daniel.
First, we looked at each other. I smiled but kept silent as I turned my attention to getting ready to start our lesson. I opened Daniel's history book and positioned a writing tablet in front of him and one in front of me. I knew Daniel was sizing me up. His slight smile indicated that curiosity had gotten the best of him. I smiled back between looking at him and rearranging his book and tablet in front of us.
I noticed that he focused on my face and hair, which I still kept cut in a military high and tight style. I am not sure he had ever been this close to a black woman who looked like me, but I knew his questions would come.
Daniel's inquiry about my haircut sparked a lighthearted exchange between us. He spoke first, "How come you cut your hair so short"? I laughed before telling him that because I have short hair, there is less of it to wash, it was easier to comb, and that it was low maintenance. I asked him, "Do you know what 'low maintenance' means?" With a boyish giggle and a shrug, Daniel replied, "No, not really." I continued, "Well, it means that I don't have to spend a lot of time on it or money to buy stuff to keep it looking and smelling good. In other words, it's a cheap haircut for a person on the go all the time like me." He widened his smile, which was enough to satisfy his inquiring mind.
He wanted to talk some more, but I remembered the articles I had read online, mindful of the need to stay on track. I had to get him started and keep him focused on his lessons. Steering him gently, I had no trouble getting him to begin. Honestly, I had no plan of action, but I thought I would feel him out and go from there. I relied on my intuition to guide our interaction. All I knew was that I wanted to tutor this child and help him improve his grades.
I gave him short paragraphs to read from his history book. When he stumbled on a few words, I pronounced them for him and had him repeat them back to me. Then, I asked him to read a paragraph or two and to summarize what he read in his own words. This method helped with his clarity, retention, and understanding. I made necessary corrections and gave him pointers and encouragement as needed.
As he read one section, I had him go back to each previous section and repeat that, too. I praised him on each tiny step of progress he was making. Surprisingly, this tutoring thing came easy for me. It was fun. I thought that Daniel was having fun, too.
I looked for signs of boredom in Daniel as my cue to take a short break. Sensing one, I asked him if he wanted to stop for a few minutes. He agreed and left to get some water from the fridge. He brought me back a soda even though I didn't ask for one. I became even more impressed with this kid. His thoughtfulness was a sweet touch to the stereotypical apple as a gift for the teacher.
After we both finished our drinks, I returned to business with Daniel. He became distracted a few times, but I was gentle in letting him know that I was in charge and that we still had a bit more work to do. He didn't resist my leading him back to the work we still had ahead of us.
I switched gears and used a combination of reading, writing, and drawing help him connect all the information visually. Drawing this from my Army instructor tactics, this method seemed to work. He seemed comfortable with the new approach and looked at it as more of a fun game than anything, and that was fine with me because something special was happening. Daniel was learning, he was having fun and retaining what he learned through repetition.
His face lit up whenever I praised him for his progress. That fact made me more proud of him more than I was of myself. We had been at it for about 45 minutes, and I told Daniel to let me know when he was ready to quit. He said he would, but told me he was ready for more. I smiled and was proud of myself for taking this kid on. Not only was it rewarding, working with Daniel was also fun for me just like I thought it would be.
I noticed a cue from Daniel which indicated that he was a bit tired. It was almost an hour and a half since we had begun, so I thought it was time to quit. But before I ended the session, I had him repeat what he and I had gone over. He did it comfortably and seemed proud of himself for retaining what he had learned.
Also, I gave him some studying tips which he kinda shrugged off. But that was OK. By this time, his mom had returned and I gave her a progress report on our first session. I told her everything went well, and it did. About that, I didn't lie. I told her I'd wait for a call from her for my next session with Daniel.
Daniel and his mother walked me to the door. In saying goodbye, Daniel held out his hand to shake mine. Another smile from him signaled that he enjoyed our time together. They both stood in the doorway as I headed down the sidewalk to my car. They stood in the doorway, watching as I walked down the sidewalk to my car. Before driving away, I waved at them, and they waved back to me from their porch. I felt good inside and looked forward to my next sessions with Daniel.