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.
thanks for posting, and glad to hear a little slice of your life. praying for you!!!
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