All I need
When I feel like a lesson I plan and teach goes particularly well, all I want is a little validation. Some might call it praise or identify it as a selfish impulse. Really, I’m just looking for someone to say good job.
I hear it from adults now and then, but it’s the kids’ opinions that really matter. That’s why I freaked out when my student Melvin came up to me after class and said “I enjoyed your lesson today.” It was so rare, and so exciting, that I had him recite it for the camera. Something this good has got to be archived.
Sometimes, I’ll even stand at the door as they leave and I’ll say, “that was good, huh?” or “you had fun, didn’t you?” Watching me pry for a little recognition must look kind desperate. If anything, it’s instilled in me an appreciation for recognizing people when something cool happens. If I’m searching so hard for it myself, I figure it must be something we all yearn for in our work.
Most days, that’s all I need.
- 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
Submit
I’ve been at this now for a few months – this planning for my future, trying to gauge the best next step. I always assumed there had to be a next step. In reality, I could be pretty happy where I am for a while longer. But it wouldn’t be what I want, and I’ve gotten in the habit of going for what I want.
And contrary to popular belief, I don’t always get what I want. In the last year alone I’ve been rejected from five different organizations. And every time, I walk away with a little bit of doubt. That maybe I’ve run my course, that I’m not as stellar as I’d like them to believe, that I don’t know anyone on the inside, so I might as well just stay put.
But fuck that shit. I’m not staying. I want something to grow into – that’s the way it’s always been. I feel like I’ve never been ready for what I get myself into, but I always end up figuring it out and then growing up into something else. Well, I’ve only been teaching for three years, but I’m getting that itch.
After months of writing and listening and thinking, I just submitted my last application. I want to learn what it means to be a leader at a school. And then I want to do it. Whoever lets me won’t regret it.
I just hope I’ve convinced them.
- Jeff
In case you’re wondering, my potential next steps:
Columbia, Summer Principal’s Academy
For once, it wasn’t me (update)
It wasn’t until last night that I realized what had set off the events of yesterday. If you haven’t heard:
And I have to admit – it feels great to not be responsible for missing my flight. I mean, sure, I could have prepared better, but who would have guessed my alarm would fail? I’ve spent that last few hours contemplating how else this might have affected people’s days. Of course, it mostly affected people like me, who needed to be somewhere unusually early in the morning. Missing an airplane (although obviously a pain) is nothing fatal, but I feel like it’s one of the more serious consequences of the alarm glitch. What else could have happened?
Late to work? Not good, but they would have to understand.
Late to meet a date for morning coffee? An offense, to be sure, but they’d have to sympathize.
Late to an interview? Now that’s bad, but once again, you’ve got a great excuse.
Ok, so I can’t think of anything really that bad. Missing an airplane, and needing to pay and re-plan your day, is probably one of the larger inconveniences posed by the glitch. I’ll have to give this some more thought.
In the meantime, I’m taking Continental and Apple to task. It’s time to invoke my consumer rights and register some complaints. I’ll let you know what I get out of it.
I’m hoping for a pony.
- Jeff
This is it
And it’s not going to be much. Or very deep. And I’m not explaining why I’ve been absent for so long. You’ll understand soon enough.
For now, I just spent my first day of the year in shambles.
Cut to 5:40 am and Andrew nudges me awake. My flight, as planned, departs at 6 am from SFO. Twenty minutes, give or take, just wasn’t going to be enough, no matter how hard I wished it. A bit delusional, I dressed as quick as I could (mumbling obscenities under my breath, and wondering aloud why I’m always the target of conspiracies). Interestingly enough, we were by the airport by 6:30 – a faster turnaround than expected.
The teller had an accent I couldn’t really understand. His name was Jaz. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that name. I wanted to call him Jay-Z, but I didn’t. I thought that wouldn’t help the situation. Jaz ended up getting me rerouted onto another flight just an hour later, landing me in Philadelphia just 3 hours after my original itinerary would have gotten me there. Not bad. $50 penalty fee later, I booked it to the gate.
Middle seat, damn it. But who was I to ask for anything more? I sat between two really nice and quiet Asian ladies who knew each other. Part of me wondered if they wanted to sit next to each other. I should ask, I thought to myself more than once. Then I could get an aisle or (even better) window seat. But I didn’t, mostly because I also thought that perhaps they planned it this way – to have a stranger sit between them. That would be odd, wouldn’t it? But I figured if that was the case, I’d better not force them into an uncomfortable moment, when they’d either have to bite their lips and switch seats, or say no and risk seeming estranged, or worse, just strange.
Five hours later, I landed in Newark. Almost home. I had checked my carry on bag at the gate in SFO because the plane was too full. So I waited at the tarmac stairs to pick it up until a man approached me and explained that the bag was checked to my final destination. Easy enough.
Upon arrival, however, the bag was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately I was too slow to realize it and got stuck behind a Spanish-speaking woman who also lacked her proper luggage. The language barrier wasn’t helping anyone and their slow conversation took about 30 minutes to get through. She didn’t annoy me at all. What annoyed me was my inability to help. I wanted to jump in and rattle it all out in Spanish, saving the day and getting on with our lives. Instead, I just stood there, as frustrated as her. But when it was my turn, I had the words to get what I needed in a jiffy. It wasn’t long before we figured it out that the little bag had never left California.
And by that time I wanted nothing more than to switch places with that bag. To be sitting in that airport, close to my family and friends, close to the future that is awaiting my return in five short months. I’d wait in a room full of lost luggage to have that feeling again.
But before I could give it much more thought, I remembered something. My keys. My house keys. They were in the bag, in California.
Happy New Year. And if this is it, then it’s gonna be one hell of a year.
Might as well write it all down.
- Jeff
Coming soon…
I’ve been revamping the website since the summer, and am having trouble with a few last minute technical issues. Just a little longer and Jeff For America will be up and running again.
Give me a week.
- Jeff
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