Started the week with a writing task review. Opened an email that read:
“Dear Sir or Madam,
I am writing to apply for the scholarship because YOLO.
Respectfully,
Alex”
I stared at the screen for a full minute.
I wanted to scream but also kind of… clap?
Told Alex that “YOLO” is not considered formal academic reasoning.
He replied:
“What if I add a semicolon?”
Honestly, not the worst idea I’ve heard.
Tuesday – Sock Puppets and the Great Affect/Effect War
Another day, another student mixing up “affect” and “effect” like it’s performance art.
In a moment of pure desperation, I reached for two nearby socks and said:
“This is Affect. She’s a verb. She does things.”
“This is Effect. He’s a noun. He’s the result.”
Was this professional?
No.
Was it effective?
Yes.
Did my student name them “Socky” and “Mr. Feels” and demand they return every lesson?
Also yes.
Wednesday – The 4th of July, Explained Poorly
My American students were giddy about “the long weekend” and kept asking me what I’d be doing for the Fourth.
As a British tutor, this puts me in a morally grey area.
“Ah yes, the day you all celebrated getting rid of me. How jolly.”
One student asked if we have fireworks in the UK.
I said, “Yes, but we usually reserve them for when a royal gets married or a kettle reaches full boil.”
(He believed me.)
Thursday – ESL Plot Twist: Homework in Morse Code
Student said he “tried something different” for his vocabulary assignment.
It was written entirely in Morse code.
Dot. Dot. Dash. Chaos.
I asked why.
He said: “Because I wanted you to feel like a spy.”
I did. I felt like a very tired, underpaid, overly caffeinated grammar spy.
He later admitted he just didn’t want to write full sentences.
Fair.
Friday – Grammar and Fireworks (in That Order)
There I was, halfway through explaining the past perfect continuous — really in the zone — when the sky outside exploded.
Fireworks. Loud, proud, and extremely red, white, and blue.
My student froze.
“Was that… an explosion?”
I said, “Yes. It’s the Fourth of July — the annual American tradition of declaring independence through explosives, questionable hot dogs, and ‘Sweet Caroline’ played far too loudly.”
We attempted to continue, but every sentence was followed by a KABOOM that made it sound like grammar itself was under siege. Honestly, it added a certain flair. I might start coordinating my lessons with fireworks for dramatic effect. Nothing says ‘past participle’ like a well-timed sky rocket.
As the rockets and explosions subsided she asked why we say “maths” and Americans say “math.”
I paused, smiled and said:
“Well, some things got lost in the revolution — vowels, extra letters, and apparently, plural logic.”
She laughed. I sipped my tea.
Happy Independence Day to the brave souls who spell colour without a ‘u’.
Weekend – God Save The Day Off
Saturday:
Went outside! Touched grass! Briefly regretted it.
Came back in, made tea so strong it could vote.
Sunday:
Got lost in a rabbit hole about whether “aluminium” or “aluminum” is correct.
Spoiler: we’re right and we have the extra syllable to prove it.
Lit a sparkler in honour of international students everywhere who’ve mastered conditionals.
They deserve fireworks more than anyone.
