Yana and Her Spiders: A Mentoring Experience

By Joan Tornow, Ph.D.

“My sisters and I have a whole bunch of spiders now!” said Yana, looking directly at me with keen anticipation of my response. 

“Wow!” I said, “Tell me more!”

We were settling into a couple of chairs at the back of her third-grade classroom, right after the rest of the class had traipsed out the door for pick-up at the end of the day. Yana and I met here once a week for a mentoring session.

Yana and her family had immigrated from Russia to Washington State a year earlier when she was seven years old. Now she could understand and speak English but had significant gaps in vocabulary. She spoke only Russian at home and therefore benefitted from enhanced opportunities to speak English one-to-one. 

In our mentoring sessions, I could see that Yana was a bright and enthusiastic learner. When she came across an unfamiliar word, she could comfortably ask, “What does that mean?” Rather than send her to a dictionary or a translation app, I would simply define the word. When words are defined by a real live person, there is an element of warmth and sometimes even excitement. Mentors can model awe and joy at the variety of words and what they can do!

I smiled with true admiration when Yana would rattle on in English, gaining in fluency and confidence. At times, I would ask, “How would you say that in Russian?” This was a way of honoring her native language and culture.

But back to the spiders. When asked to tell me more, she launched into a spirited narrative, wiggling in her chair and grinning mischievously as her braids flew this way and that. 

“Well, there are spiders near the fence and some of them are under the fence. Alexandra and I feed them mosquitoes and flies. We named them, too. There’s Scalp, Amy, Rush…. and there’s one that only eats flies. If we put a mosquito in his web, he just sits there. So we named him Dull.” She says this in a somewhat hushed voice, as if not wanting her teacher, who is nearby, to hear. 

Yana knows on some level that it is wrong to give a derogatory label to anyone, even a spider. But she is a keen observer, and true to what she sees. She knew the word dull and she knew how to apply it to a spider. That was a good thing.

I laughed with appreciation for her story-telling. It was easy for her to come up with this narrative because she didn’t have to invent it; she was describing what she had actually observed and experienced. 

She continued, “One spider, we named Onion, and he will eat anything.” I assumed that this spider was named because it ate onions, but I thought I’d check.

“Why did you name him Onion?” I asked.

“Because he stays close to the ground, like an onion.”

“How did you know the way onions grow?”

“Because my Mom grows them.”

“Oh, she has a garden! What else does she grow?” And, we were off on another topic.

But again, back to the spiders. This topic had emerged during an earlier session, and we always began with casual and free-ranging conversations. These conversations provide a relaxed time for Yana to practice her expanding English vocabulary. Meanwhile, I would occasionally introduce new words in the context of what was uppermost in her mind at the time.

Given her expressed interest in spiders, I had encouraged Yana to write about these creatures she and her siblings closely observed in their back yard. Over the past few weeks, she had written pages and pages on this topic and had given her growing manuscript a name: Spider Adventures. I would soon be helping her publish this in book form. She had already gained some status in the class because of her spider expertise, and her published book would result in even more widespread sharing – both of her writing and of herself.

Yana’s manuscript was almost finished, so we went over it together, finding places where she could polish it up. Each editing session was kept brief so as not to overwhelm her with technical corrections. The goal here was primarily to build fluency and confidence. 

Toward the end of our hour-long after-school session, I saw we had 10 minutes left and asked her what she’d like to do.

“See these books?” she said gesturing toward a bin of books on a nearby shelf. We’re not allowed to look at those till we finish our book reports. “But I’d like to see what’s in there.” Again, that mischievous look.

“That’s fine!” I said. 

She thumbed through the books, and pulled out one with enthusiasm. “Oh, look at this!” she said. It was a paperback called, Encyclopedia of Science. She sat down and started turning the pages, exclaiming over almost every page, “Oh, that’s scary!” she said, looking at a killer shark. “What’s your favorite sea animal?” she asked. 

I paused and thought a moment, “I guess seahorses. And starfishes. What’s yours?”

She said, “Piranhas.” Interesting that she knows the word piranha but asks for definitions of words like elevator, syrup, or office. Like all kids, she learns the high-interest words first.

“You really like animals, don’t you?” I said.

“Yes, I want to be a zoologist.” 

“You’d make a great zoologist!” 

As the session approached its end, I jotted down some notes for future reference. Yana had opened up opportunities for writing on other topics important to her … her mother’s garden, science, and sea/river life. It was important for her to see that these subjects could be explored at school, through reading, writing, and talking with others. 

Wrapping up, I felt good about our session and wished I could have such meaningful conversations not only with Yana but with all the others in her class. I believe it is this sort of interaction that is at the heart of education, not just with English language learners.

Volunteer mentors cost schools little or nothing. Yet they provide an invaluable resource for students. Having a conversation with a caring adult, with unconditional positive regard, helps children thrive. It helps them not only with communication skills but with the development of thinking and, dare I say, with character. In these sessions, we can model what it is to truly listen to, and honor, another person and their experience. We mentors don’t need a lot of training. All we really need to do is remember three little words: “Tell me more.”

Good teachers find ways to weave this invitation into interchanges with students throughout the day. But a typical school day in a crowded classroom, with a crowded curriculum, makes extended one-to-one conversations as rare as spiders with names. That’s one reason why mentors add a valuable ingredient to educational environments.

As we packed up, I reminded Yana to return the Encyclopedia of Science to its designated bin. Before doing so, she turned just a few more pages. Her eyes suddenly lit up as she pointed with glee at a picture of a piranha. She nearly went crazy with happiness. And isn’t this what we want students to experience as they share their journey of discovery with others?