When the $0 Tutoring Ended

My free tutoring initiative, run in my spare time, helped half the kids in our neighborhood get into excellent middle schools.

But then, their parents put me on blast online, trashing me with free stuff is garbage, she ruined our children's future.

They ganged up, reported me for unauthorized tutoring, and forced me to apologize publicly.

My school called me in, my superiors issued a warning, and my reputation was in tatters.

I immediately shut down the tutoring program, then turned around and accepted a jaw-dropping offer from an international school.

The next day, staring at quotes of thousands of dollars for a single course from private tutoring agencies,

And posters of award-winning teachers at the entrance of the international school, all the parents were stunned.

My zero-cost community tutoring program quietly opened its doors in the neighborhood activity room.

No advertising, no enrollment drivesjust a few students whose grades had plummeted and whose families were genuinely struggling.

I used my evenings and weekends to help them with homework and review key concepts.

At first, not many kids came, and their parents were overwhelmingly grateful.

"Ms. Jenkins, you're an angel. You've helped us so much."

"Seriously, private tutors charge like $80 an hour these days. We just can't afford it."

"We're leaving our kids in your capable hands, thank you for all your hard work!"

They'd drop their kids off every afternoon, sometimes bringing a fruit basket or some milk.

I never accepted anything, but my heart felt warm.

One Friday evening, Brenda Peterson dropped off her son, Dylan.

"Ms. Jenkins, our Dylan is here to join the fun, get a feel for the learning environment."

I hesitated.

"Brenda, my main goal was to help families who are genuinely struggling financially..."

Her son, Dylan, was in my regular class too, and his grades were just average.

But her family was well-off. They lived in the biggest penthouse in the building and drove a Porsche.

She cut me off, shoving a beautifully wrapped fruit basket into my arms.

"Oh, come on, we're all neighbors here, why be so formal? Dylan joining will actually be a great motivator for the other kids, right?"

With her putting it that way, I found it hard to refuse again.

Brenda dropped Dylan off punctually every day but never helped him study.

She'd just sit in the back, scrolling on her phone, watching videos with the volume blaring.

One time, I couldn't take it anymore and politely asked her to keep it down.

She immediately scowled.

"Ms. Jenkins, what's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm disturbing your class?"

"I'm just here to observe exactly *how* you teach. Don't think you can use my son as some kind of experiment."

I smiled, trying to explain.

"That's not what I meant at all. I just want to maintain a quiet learning environment."

She scoffed, saying nothing more.

But that very evening, our neighborhood SnapChat group blew up.

Brenda had sent a long series of voice messages in the group.

"Seriously, everyone, you're all so trusting, just leaving your kids with some *free* tutor?"

"Does anyone really believe in a free lunch? How good can something free actually be? What's her angle, really?"

"I figured it out today. That Ms. Jenkins? She just babbles, completely unprofessional."

"She's probably just using the 'free' gimmick to lure us in, get all our kids' info, and then, bam, she'll start charging next, right?"

A few sarcastic comments were all it took to ignite the doubts in other parents.

"Brenda's got a point. How could something this good be true? It's gotta be a scam."

"Exactly! I've felt uneasy for a while. What professional teacher offers free tutoring after hours? She definitely has an agenda."

"My kid said Ms. Jenkins even checks her phone for notes sometimes during class. Is that 'professional'?"

I watched the messages flood the group, my hands and feet turning icy cold.

The parent who claimed I checked my phone for notesthat was when his son asked a competitive math problem, and I needed to quickly confirm the latest solution methods.

I started typing out an explanation in the group.

"Dear parents, I started this tutoring program asking for nothing in return, only wanting to do something beneficial for the children. As for checking my phone, it was to provide the most accurate answers."

Brenda immediately replied.

"Well, well, Sarah's finally showing her face! Trying to explain things away, are we? Don't insult our intelligence."

"If you're such a saint, why aren't you volunteering at a shelter or something? Why are you trying to play Mother Teresa with *our* kids?"

Another parent chimed in.

"Exactly! Our kids' time is so precious. What if you screw them up? Can you take responsibility for that?"

I looked at that parent's profile picture, a sharp pain in my chest.

It was his child whose school fees were short last semester, and I'd helped cover them.

Now, he was turning around and accusing me of harming his child.

I couldn't argue with them. I could only watch helplessly as Brenda fueled the flames in the group.

She even secretly created a "Parents Against Sarah" group and pulled in every parent who had sent their child to my tutoring program.

They schemed in that group about how to confront me, how to expose my "true colors."

It all felt so absurd, so ridiculous.

That weekend, tutoring class was still on.

Not a single child was missing, but the parents' eyes had changed.

They scrutinized me with suspicious, judgmental stares.

Brenda, emboldened, sat right in the front row, recording me on her phone.

"Go on, Ms. Jenkins, keep teaching! I'm recording this so we can all 'learn' too. Let's see how much 'value' this free class actually has."

Her antics made the children so nervous they couldn't concentrate.

I took a deep breath and walked up to her.

"Brenda, please don't do this. It's distracting the children."

"Distracting?" She raised her voice.

"I'm collecting evidence! What if you teach them wrong and lead my son astray? Who would I turn to then?"

"If you have nothing to hide, why are you afraid of me recording?"

As soon as her voice faded, a timid voice spoke from the doorway.

"Ms. Brenda, Ms. Jenkins teaches really well. I got a 95 on my math test this time, and I used to fail."

It was Chloe, a particularly shy girl, and one of the first students I ever helped.

Brenda glanced at her, then sneered.

"What do you know, little girl? Maybe the teacher just leaked the answers to you beforehand."

Chloe's face flushed crimson, tears welling in her eyes.

My anger finally burst.

"Brenda, get out!"

"What? Did I hit a nerve? Are you angry because I spoke the truth?"

Brenda shoved her phone's camera right into my face.

"Everyone, look! This so-called 'caring teacher' is about to get violent!"

"You won't let me record, huh? Fine."

She put away her phone, grabbed Dylan, and started heading out.

"We're leaving. Who knows what your real intentions are."

The other parents exchanged uneasy glances, then one by one, they also stood up and left with their children.

In less than five minutes, the bustling activity room was empty, except for Chloe and me.

Chloe walked over, tugging at my sleeve, and whispered.

"Teacher, don't be sad. I believe in you."

I patted her head. Worst case scenario, I just wouldn't run this tutoring program anymore.

That very night, however, an article titled "Exposing a Scumbag Teacher: The Filthy Dealings Hidden Behind Free Tutoring!" went viral on local forums and social media.

The post featured photos of me teaching, taken from incredibly manipulative angles.

One showed me looking at my phone, captioned: "Completely unprepared for class, just Googling answers on the fly. Seriously unprofessional."

Another showed me pointing at the whiteboard, my expression serious, captioned: "Flies off the handle, verbally abusing students."

And yet another, me holding Chloe's hand to comfort her, was spun into: "Physically aggressive with a parent, completely out of line."

The poster was, of course, Brenda.

In her post, she claimed I used the guise of "free" tutoring to pave the way for my own expensive private classes.

She also accused me of being irresponsible, ruining children's futures, and even hinted that I had mental issues and a violent streak.

The unsuspecting people in the comments section were easily swayed by her.

"Teachers these days have no morals, they'll do anything for money."

"How can someone like this be a teacher? The School Board needs to investigate this immediately!"

"Free? Ha, you know what they say: there's no such thing as a free lunchit's always the most expensive in the long run. She's clearly playing a long game."

"Poster, hurry up and dox her! We need her address and phone number to teach her a lesson."

Then, my phone number, home address, and workplace were all dug up.

From that dawn onward, my phone didn't stop ringing.

Harassing calls came one after another, all filled with insults and curses.

"You fake, manipulative witch, why don't you just die?"

"Stay away from our kids, you menace!"

People also started gathering outside my door, banging and yelling the most vile obscenities.

What chilled me even more was seeing familiar profile pictures among the overwhelming online abuse.

"I knew something was off about her, glad we pulled our kids out early."

"Right? Who knows what her intentions were. Gives me chills just thinking about it now."

These were the same parents who had once been so grateful to me, the ones I had genuinely tried to help.

The next day, I got a call from my principal.

"Ms. Jenkins, maybe you should take some time off. Don't come to school for a while."

"The public outcry online is just too much, and it's not good for your reputation."

Then, a call came from the District Superintendent.

A stern male voice on the other end warned me:

"Ms. Jenkins, your unauthorized tutoring program is a clear violation of district policy. Considering this is your first offense, we're issuing a warning. A repeat offense will result in immediate termination of your teaching license."

I hung up, slumping to the floor, utterly drained.

Just then, my phone chimed again.

It was a text from Brenda.

"Ms. Jenkins, tomorrow afternoon at 3 PM, at the community center. The parents are holding an 'action meeting,' and you *must* be there to give us a public explanation."

"Don't even think about hiding. Otherwise, we can't guarantee what actions we might take."

I stared at the threatening text, my vision blurring.

The next afternoon, not wanting things to escalate further, I went.

The community activity room was packed.

Those once familiar faces, now twisted with a sickening sense of triumph.

Brenda sat right in the middle. Seeing me enter, a victorious smile spread across her face.

She stood up, cleared her throat, and addressed everyone.

"See, everyone? Sarah Jenkins showed up. That proves she's guilty, she knows she messed up."

As soon as she finished, a parent stood up and pointed at me.

"Ms. Jenkins, you have to apologize for your behavior. You wasted our children's precious study time!"

"Yeah, apologize!"

"And compensate us! For our emotional distress, for the time our kids missed. How do you plan to pay for that?"

"Exactly! You *must* pay us back!"

Brenda walked up to me, looking down.

"Ms. Jenkins, did you hear that? The public isn't blind."

"Today, in front of everyone, you need to admit your mistakes and give us a satisfactory answer."

She thrust a microphone towards me, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Go on, we're all listening."

She had started a live stream, and on the phone screen, comments scrolled rapidly.

"Support the parents! Kick this crooked teacher out!"

"Finally willing to admit defeat? Why didn't she do it sooner?"

Brenda impatiently urged.

"Come on, hurry up. Stop playing dumb."

I raised my eyes, my gaze sweeping across every person in the room.

"You're right. I was wrong."

Brenda and the parents' faces lit up with smug satisfaction, thinking I was finally going to give in.

"My mistake was..."

I paused, scanning the room.

"My mistake was treating you with respect."

Brenda's face turned a furious shade of crimson. "What did you say?"

"You wanted an explanation, didn't you?"

"Fine, I'll give you one."

I picked up a marker and walked to the whiteboard near the activity room entrance.

"By popular demand, the zero-cost community tutoring program is officially and permanently closed, effective today."

I finished writing the last four words, capped the marker with a definitive click, and turned to face the stunned crowd.

Brenda was the first to react, rushing towards me, absolutely furious.

"Sarah Jenkins, are you screwing with us?!"

"Closed? You just decide to close it? You think you can just walk away?"

"You *have* to tutor all our kids every day! That's how this works!"

"You never taught them properly before, wasting so much of their precious study time. You need to make up for that time, and *double* it!"

"Exactly! You messed up our kids' grades, and now you just want to cut and run? No way!"

"You *must* keep it open, and you need to extend the hours, tutor our kids for free until they get into college!"

The other parents chimed in, their voices growing increasingly agitated.

I looked coldly at this group of people, their true colors fully exposed, and was about to speak.

Just then, the roar of a car engine suddenly came from outside the activity room.

The car door opened, and a middle-aged man in a suit, accompanied by a driver, quickly entered.

He walked straight through the crowd, came up to me, and handed me a beautifully printed offer letter.

"Ms. Jenkins, I've heard so much about you."

"I'm Harrison Vance, the Headmaster of Bo Ya International Academy."

"Our school is honored to offer you the position of Lead Educator and Curriculum Director, with an annual salary of three million dollars, to oversee curriculum development and teacher training for the entire academy."