I should have continued my graduate work in counseling; it would have been helpful to me as a writing tutor. Today I worked with a student whose paper was returned by her instructor because it did not fulfill the assignment requirement, which was to write a reflective essay. What the student turned in was a narrative about the experience of partnering with some acquaintances of her husband’s in a business that nearly bankrupted them. But her assignment was to write an essay that was reflective.

The difference between a narrative and a reflection is that the former tells about a particular experience and the latter discusses what was learned from it. Though the unfortunate partnership happened years ago, the student clearly had not gotten over the pain and bitterness, and writing a narrative was easy. She remembered all the details vividly, so much so that she exceeded the required number of pages by two.

My student asked hopefully if any part of her narrative could be salvaged and integrated into her reflection. Determining whether or not any student’s work is salvagable is critical because the decision not only affects that student’s attitude towards the assignment, but subsequently how my suggestions are received. Rapport between a tutor and a student is vital, and I try very hard to understand the student’s point of view and quell any anxiety they might have. After re-reading it, I explained to her as gently as possible that most of the first paragraph could be kept, but that the rest would have to be re-worked. Somehow, that sounds better than “redone.”

Upon hearing that, the student’s body language told me that she already felt defeated, and this is where some counseling expertise would have been handy. I don’t know why, but I suddenly remembered someone I met at a conference recently who said that she often felt that being a writing tutor was like being a bartender, only without the alcohol. And so, channeling my dad who actually was a bartender, I approached the re-write from “behind the bar,” so to speak.

I asked my student what had become different about her since the debacle. It was difficult for her to think of anything at first, but when I told her about my own personal experience of having to rebuild my life after losing everything in Hurricane Katrina, something clicked for her. She began thinking of the positive changes she had made; she noted that she had become capable, stronger, and more independent. She realized that her marriage needed to be an equal partnership, not a relationship in which one partner makes all the decisions and the other simply follows. She now valued friendships more than material possessions. She had made the decision to go back to school in spite of the fact that she was in her fifties; though it was scary at first, she is discovering the joy of learning new things, which in turn have peeled back years and layers of self-loathing, fear and doubt. Like a butterfly, she was slowly emerging from her chrysalis.

By the time our session ended, my student had a decent rough draft to submit, one that she was proud of. I would like to think she felt better about herself, too. I think we both realized that life is just one lesson after another, some fun and some not. With any luck, we just might learn a thing or two.