The First Meeting
 

The weather was foul for a late March afternoon even for this part of the country.  We were experiencing heavy rains and due to the temperature fluctuations, the precipitation would occasionally switch to snow or sleet.  I had called my student earlier in the week to set up the appointment.  I don’t know how she felt about it, but I was very excited.  I think that I packed every conceivable book and teaching tool that I could possible need.  I had never met her and although I had read her brief case history, I still was unsure what to expect.

When I arrived at my car, which was parked in the shuttle bus lot, it was covered with snow.  I needed to take a few moments while the engine warmed to clear the windows.  I left the lot at exactly 4:00pm as per the talk radio station.  My appointment with her was for 4:00, but the library, the arranged site of our meetings, was only a few blocks away.  I pulled into the library parking as the radio announcer informed me that it was now 4:04pm.  

We have been trained to teach our students the importance of punctuality and in spite of the bad weather, I felt somewhat guilty arriving late to our initial meeting.  I was soaking wet and cold, but determined to have a good lesson.

When I went into the office and there was already a tutor and a student working in there so I waited outside.  And I waited.  I went back into the office and asked the tutor if she had seen an Asian girl looking for someone.  She told me “Yes, and I told her to wait”.  I scanned the library and there were no young Asian women in the room.  I did see an older Asian woman who appeared to be trying to read one of the children’s books.  I went up to her and asked, “Are you Xiang?”  I didn’t think that she was, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.  She quickly replied “No, no.  Xiang go.  Xiang go.”  I had been 4 minutes late and my student hadn’t bothered to wait for me. I sat down, soaking wet and waited for a half an hour just in the event that she was elsewhere in the building and might return. Saying that I was annoyed, was an understatement. 

I was busy the rest of the week so I didn’t call her again.  I contemplated contacting our coordinator to get a different student.  I wanted a reliable student that was serious about learning English.  I kept that thought in the back of my mind.  I debated with myself as to what my next step should be.  

After a few days, I decided that I should at least give her one more chance.  I called her the following Monday to set an appointment for the next Monday.  I thought if I gave her a week’s notice we would have a better chance of connecting.  

When she answered the phone, I apologized to her for being late.  I explained that I was delayed because of the weather.  Then, much to my surprise, she apologized to me for leaving.  But then she explained that she had left because she felt that I had forgotten her and if she had stayed and waited, she would have missed her bus.  She would not have had a means to get home and the next city bus wasn’t until several hours later.  

We hadn’t met yet, but she had already taught me something.  I don’t know why but it had never occurred to me that she didn’t have a ride to the library.  She had a very legitimate reason for not waiting for me.  She wasn’t just a careless young woman that didn’t give a hoot about what I had to offer.  I was ashamed that I had been ready to give up on her, to just toss her to the side.

We confirmed to meet the following Monday, at 4:15 to give me a few extra minutes.  She was concerned with the bus to get home.  I assured her that I could give her a ride to her home.  It wasn’t too far out of my own way home.  The ride would give us some unstructured time to talk also.  

Once again, I’m excited about our first meeting.  I’m also a little wiser as to one of the many struggles that immigrants face when they arrive here, transportation.  It’s something that many of us Americans take for granted.