One way
Three years ago, almost to the day, I flew across the country to become a teacher. I remember asking my cousin, a teacher for 15 years, what a lesson plan was a week before I left. I had no idea what I was doing.
Thankfully, I’m a quick study and I picked up what I could from the scant training I got from TFA. Five weeks isn’t enough to do much, let alone learn the basics of classroom teaching. But it gave me something to work with, and I dedicated my life to learning more and getting better. I was humble and asked a lot of questions and was friendly with everyone I met.
It paid off. I found success – more than I expected.
I fell in love with my students, which turned out to be a damn good motivation when it comes to working hard, long hours.
I made some real friends, most of whom will invite me to their weddings and all of whom I will miss deeply.
And I learned a lot about myself. I more intimately know my limits – when to go and when to stop. Maybe more importantly, how to tell when to do what.
I’m on a plane now, going home. It’s a one way flight and it feels different than all the ones before. All the Christmas vacations and Spring Break getaways – those were just temporary escapes. This feels natural, like it’s what is supposed to be happening right now.
That’s reassuring, since I feel so unsure about leaving it all and starting over.
I created something beautiful there and now it’s over. At least the reality is over. The reverberations will be felt for some time. I’ll carry it with me to my new school, to my studies, into my future.
I’ll unpack what I can use and keep stored away the things I no longer need. Every once in a while I’ll take everything and lay it out to remember what it was like to be ambitious and naïve. And I’ll feel inspired to do it all again.
In fact, I already do.
- Jeff
Saying goodbye
I went to the dentist yesterday and had a great time.
That’s not the typical experience, but, you see, I’ve got a pretty special dental hygienist. Her name is Mary and she’s awesome. From the moment our eyes meet we’re laughing and talking. There’s something about her that puts me at ease, which is good when your mouth is forced open for an hour straight. We talked about California and craigslist and I gave her tips for how to get a good deal. I learned about her other jobs (she works two!) and how she took care of her mom before she died. I felt like she was a friend. A friend I see every 6 months. Not really a friend at all, but someone I could be friends with, and that’s saying a lot. You don’t meet too many Marys.
So when I was getting ready to go, the goodbye was kinda tricky. I wanted to say ‘see you next time,’ but there’s not gonna be a next time. So I said goodbye. We hugged. It was sweet, if not strange for the people waiting in lobby.
And it all got me thinking about starting over. Moving to California is going to be good for me, but it’s still going to be hard. It means saying goodbye to everyone I know now and finding new people to fill my life with. Sure, I’ll have friends when I get there (those are kind of built into the deal), but will I meet another Mary? And if there’s the chance that I do, how long will take to find her?
All the “periphery” people who fill up my life here in Philly (the dry cleaner who knows my phone number by heart, the hair stylist who knows my mom’s name) are going to be gone. When I get to California, I’ll be looking to replace them, but I never really will. I’ll miss them. As weird as it sounds, I’ll miss them.
So imagine how hard it will be to say goodbye to the real friends – the ones who drive me to work everyday and dance with me in the morning at school and tell me jokes while I’m teaching and make pottery with me and run with me.
It’s going to be harder than I’m making it out to be. I need to accept that or else saying goodbye is going to be a messy affair. At least I’ve already said goodbye to Mary. That was a first step. Like practice. Who’s next?
- Jeff
Purposeful pause
A whirlwind.
It’s how my TFA alumni coach described my next few weeks and months. After taking up the better part of my life and winter vacation, my applications were complete two weeks ago. I wrote about how relieving it was to let go of inadequacy and hesitance in favor of being ambitious and unapologetic. It was a good thing, and it allowed me to embrace the next steps as they came.
A quick update: I moved forward to the second stage of the process for KIPP and Columbia and had phone interviews this week. It meant I had an interview each night, Tues – Fri. It was daunting, to say the least.
But I managed it, and pretty well at that. It has gotten to the point now that I’m so ready to talk about myself, my experiences, my future outlook, that I can answer just about any question with two examples to boot. And to avoid sounding like a robot reading a note sheet, I’ve had to start taking purposeful pauses between them asking me a question and me offering an answer. Where I could just start talking when they trail off, I take like 5 seconds of silence to make it more natural, to make sure I’m checking my list twice. It’s kind of cool to be back in the swing of things. I hadn’t interviewed for anything in three years, so I’m glad I’ve not rusted over too badly.
That’s the thing with these programs – if you can get to this part, when they actually get to hear you and get to know you, you’re golden. Because even if you don’t end up “in” you know they at least gave you a fair shot. You got to show them you, not the essay-you, but the real you. And that makes the joy of getting “in” all the better or the sting of not getting “in” all the easier.
At any rate, I’m feeling pretty good about where I am right now. Still not certain of what will happen next year, I’m planning to take this time to purposefully pause things. All the sound and fury of the school day, all the tasks piling up on my to-do lists, all the pushing and pulling in different directions. For right now, at this very moment, I’m paused. It’s giving me ample opportunity to appreciate how far I’ve come, and smile at the thought of tomorrow. I could just pick up and ramble forward, my thoughts haphazardly landing somewhere for some amount of time. But no – I’m taking a cue from this week and pressing pause.
Anxiety gone. Nervousness gone. Inadequacy gone.
Just calm. Just confidence. Just relief.
- Jeff
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