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| Phillip Lentsch Class of 2018 |
“Everyone needs help. That’s the human condition.” – Max
Allan Collins
I’ve spent an enormous amount of time this semester trying
to figure things out: my major, what I want out of UofL, if I’m making the
right decisions, etc. College has
completely turned my world upside down, for better and worse, and with this shift in polarity comes confusion. I typically identify as a “man with a
plan”, always reassuring myself that things will turn out alright as long as I
stay on the course I have set in advance.
But, the odd yet apparent truth of this common freshman year sentiment
has turned out to be this: plans, however solid they may seem, usually don’t
work out.
However cynically melodramatic that statement may sound, it
has hit me like a brick wall. My
ways of thinking have crossed lines I’d never thought possible, all due to the
experiences I have been through in these past four months. In all this time, I have come to
believe in one legitimate fact, and that is that no one survives through life
alone.
Early in September, I signed up to volunteer as a tutor at
Cochran Elementary School in downtown Louisville, only a few blocks from UofL’s
campus. Every Tuesday, I would
help my fifth-grade “buddy”, Connell, with math, English, reading
comprehension, writing, whatever subject was at hand for the day. I’ve always had an undeniable passion
for education and teaching, and thought this would serve as the proper outlet
to amplify those interests---and it did.
However, I learned something new along the way, something I saw that
applied to my life as well.
Connell was an incredibly smart student, quickly grasping most of the
questions I threw at him with relative ease. I wondered why he was in need of a tutor in the first place,
as he seemed to be ahead in just about every problem we reviewed. Then came long division. Not used to having to actually think
through his work, Connell struggled with math, and inevitably became
exasperated towards school in general.
When the solution didn’t arrive within seconds, he would quit and pout,
not wanting to continue. It took
some time for me to connect with him, feeling as though no matter how many
times I would explain the concept, he just couldn’t get it. Something wasn’t clicking.
A wavelength is defined as “the distance between successive
crests of a wave”. A person’s
ideas and ways of thinking allow effective communication with others,
channeling energy into every point of interaction. Hence the phrase, “We’re on the same wavelength”. However, this cannot occur successfully
without being executed properly.
What I saw from Connell, I saw in myself as well. The first few weeks of college were exhausting,
frustrating, and downright hard, because of the fact that I firmly believed I
didn’t need any help. My ego
shattered my sense of urgency in regards to tests and schoolwork, and college
won the first round. Connell, a
smart and funny kid, couldn’t get past the fact that I was his tutor for a
reason. He needed help, but just couldn’t
accept it. Eventually, as we
worked through the problems together---slowly and with precision---the wheels
began turning again, and Connell was a master at long division. It took an abandonment of pride, but
with adequate time, we were indeed “on the same wavelength”.
My time as a tutor has helped me equate my growth as an
individual with seeking help from others during this first semester. The problem, as was the case with both
Connell and myself, was not the words on the paper, but rather the stubbornness
in our heads. My beliefs and
presumptions towards the world have, in fact, not always been the proper ones
to have, and it has taken time to accept this. The harsh truth of being reliant on others, however annoying
it may seem to me, has ended up allowing me to improve in ways I never would’ve
thought imaginable. And, with the
correct guidance, I can hopefully glide on the crest of a smooth and high wave.
Phillip Lentsch is a freshman McConnell Scholar studying political science and english. He is from Louisville, Ky.