Why I joined TFA

While this past week has perhaps been one of the most difficult in my life, surprisingly, I feel unfazed at the end of this roller-coaster week. I don't know if I should attribute this current mental state to unconscious suppression of fear/anxiety on my part or if I have just arrived at the point where I think, "No, duh, what else did I expect? A walk in the park with ice-cream?"

Physical fights have already occurred in my classroom, and while it is terrible and even scary to witness 7 year-olds throwing punches at each other or girls pulling out each others' braids, I am not quite sure why I do not feel more shocked. Perhaps I really have mentally prepared myself to the point that when these things occur, I am not overly shocked or surprised.

I do not want to arrive at the point of indifference, because it is a tragedy to witness such events in the classroom. This is the definition of an "unruly, destructive" classroom environment, based on the TAL rubric TFA uses.

Lord, I pray that I will not become indifferent. Break my heart for the things that break yours. Help me to see these children through your eyes, and give me wisdom and love when I am working with my kids. 


To remind myself why I joined TFA, I have to turn back the clock to the previous September. When I applied to TFA in the last few hours before the deadline, part of me hoped that the rigor of the application process would conclude with a polite rejection letter. After having done multiple internships relating to public service or the public sector, I thought to myself, "I am going to try something new and work in the private sector--make some bank and save up for graduate school. No more unpaid internships for me!" Undoubtedly, I was motivated by some personal selfishness when applying to private sector jobs. And while there is nothing wrong with working in the private sector, it was clear that I lacked conviction when interviewing for these positions, and it showed through in my interviews.

The first time I met with a TFA recruiter, I went into it thinking, "I'll just talk with them and see how it goes." No expectations of much, just a casual conversation to learn more about TFA. The recruiter was warm, bright-eyed and cheery: the epitome of TFA optimism and goodwill. I remember asking her some tough questions; I hoped to get a genuine picture of TFA--not some packaged, rose-colored baloney. The recruiter did not disappoint for the most part; she gave me pretty honest answers along with the bright lining.

I usually don't become overly emotional in public, much less cry--but when I started telling her about my kids in Chinatown, I surprised myself when I felt little wet balls trickling down my face. (What was this!? Why did these come out now!?) I did not understand then why I could not control myself, and I immediately apologized to the recruiter with a hurried, "I am so sorry; I usually don't get this emotional." I saw the recruiter get red-eyed as well, but of course she waved off my apology and let me continue with my story after I tamped down my chokey voice.

After I finished the meeting, I went out to the lake area at Wellesley and sat down on a rock to calm myself. I felt the little kick in my gut then to apply, but avoided applying--and even tried to avoid some of the recruiter's emails and phone calls. On the last day, in the last few hours of the application deadline, I made a similar decision to one I had made four years ago: apply to something important at the last minute. For someone who can be a bit of a control freak with my deadlines, these kinds of scenarios are my nightmares. What is most ironic is that the two places I applied to last minute--Wellesley and Teach For America--was where I ended up after my initial resistance to both. (I wonder if this Jonah arc will be a recurring pattern in my life? Knock on wood...)

At the end of this summer, I have realized a few things. The first is that my primary passion at this point in time is not rooted in the issue of education, but in the people it seeks to empower. I did not join TFA because I wanted to go into education or education policy in the long run, but because I saw that I could spend these next two years wholly devoting my time and energy to investing in people's lives in the direct setting of a classroom. The majority of the global economy,  excepting the underground economy, is involved in or connected to investing in people's lives in some form or another.  If I could create a vision and goal for each of my students as their teacher--inspire each of them based on their individual talents and potential to achieve and become leaders and changemakers in their families, their future careers, their community, in this world--what else could be a worthier investment? It is admittedly a lofty vision, but after spending time with my students this summer, I realize this was what drives me most in my interactions with my students. I love helping them to find purpose and recognize a dream, a goal to aim for--but if I could go a step further and give them a vision beyond their personal dream--to become purposeful leaders and changemakers for the next generation, this is probably one of the best investments of time and energy, if not the best.