摘要：It is early in the spring semester at my large public institution when a visibly stressed student enters the writing center to talk about a one-page summary/response paper that is covered in red markings. I put my hand over the paper in front of us to shift his focus and ask him some general questions about himself and his interests as a student. Before getting back to the paper, we look through the syllabus, and I note the course description emphasizes critical thinking, writing, and reading. "What's the reading like for this course?" I ask. "Dave" explains that he tries his best--often reading during his short work breaks--but it takes him a very long time to complete the readings. He is pretty sure he comprehends the readings, but he is unsure about how much he is retaining. "Enough to write the papers," he says nonchalantly with a thick New England accent. By "papers" he means the short, red-splattered documents he has brought to our tutorial session today. Analyzing his response, I get the sense that this session is not about the writing in front of us. It is about the reading and thinking Dave needs to attend to before typing his papers. Because I am also observing composition courses as part of my graduate teacher training, I'm noticing that students often aren't spending enough time critically reading, but this is the first time I've meaningfully discussed reading in a tutoring session. I suggest some strategies: turning off his phone, timing his reading, and annotating. We run out of time in our session, and I try not to feel guilty about not addressing the writing he brought with him. I help him make an appointment to see me the following week at the same time.
