The unconventional tutor who ignited my passion for writing
Shortly after we moved from Monaco to the US when I was 11, Penelope Hope, an English teacher, began tutoring us in English. To adjust to a new culture and language, I had been spending most of my time outside, much to Mom's frustration; she wanted me to focus on reading and writing.
Penelope was a free spirit and full of energy. Of Irish descent, she spoke with a singsong lilt. She was short, thin, with short, grey, curly hair and thick eyelashes that looked even thicker when she smiled, which she did all the time. Divorced from a sign maker, she had three children.
She encouraged me to write whatever came to mind, correcting my grammar with a pencil.
"Write like you talk," she said. "Don't hold back. Just let your thoughts go. Don't worry about being proper or using bad words. Just write."
To teach alliteration, she used risqué words like, "The boats are pissing petrol into the water." She once had me write a limerick that went: "There once was a girl named Diana, who cherished her daily banana. She ate them so fast, she exploded at last, And now we are peeling Diana."
Penelope and Mom became fast friends and I enjoyed the writing so much that I sometimes neglected my actual homework.
"I have a daughter your age," Penelope said one day. "You two would probably get along. Actually, I’d like her to spend more time outdoors. She spends all her time reading. She could use some fresh air, and you could be a good influence on her."