life keeps moving on

Already halfway through the 2nd year as a Teach for America corps member, and so much uncertainty seems to be hanging in the air.  Current options for next year:

1) Rally the strength/courage/perseverance/balls for a 3rd year at UP BRZ
-- pros: kinda know what I'm doing already, kids are sometimes tolerable/awesome/hilarious, salary increase, increased respect from administration, incoming students will be less insane (hopefully), new building, Chicago is awesome, thinking on my feet skills
-- cons: increased chance of burnout, less TFA friends to depend on, continuing to deal with admin and the general craziness that is working at my school

2) Completely different life path: Masters of Architecture programs
-- pros: could potentially stay in Chicago, pursuing something relevant to my interests, learning to draw
-- cons: might have to move out of Chicago, costly, don't know how my application will stack up to others, actually having to complete applications/portfolios/personal statements, not sure if this is exactly what I want to do with my life or exactly how committed I am to following this life path, complete change of direction could be difficult transition

3) Teach at a different school in Chicago or elsewhere
-- pros: potentially less frustrating job all around, fresh start with new students, could potentially stay in Chicago, could lead to future opportunities with TFA
-- cons: leaving my students (while this may be the only con, it holds quite a bit of weight in this decision)

Needless to say I've got a decision on my hands.

I'm sorry

As I finish my first year as a Teach for America corps member, it saddens me that such attacks are being made on the organization that works so tirelessly on behalf of so many students here in Chicago and all over the US. I would, however, like to issue some apologies:

I'm sorry, for graduating with honors from a top 50 liberal arts school and choosing to do a program like Teach for America. I'm ashamed that I did not take my ignorance and my diploma to a graduate school that would have likely propelled me to a desk job for the next forty years of my life. If there's anything that cities like Chicago needs, it's more white male yuppies like me moving to Lincoln Park.

I'm sorry, for accepting a position at a charter school that fights to get African-American young men out of the south side of Chicago and into colleges and universities across the nation. Without my getting in the way, these young men could have had another teacher that isn't passionate about teaching mathematics and its relevance in the real world. Besides, we have to keep jobs aside for teachers that are "veterans", because they are usually more skilled, efficient, and driven teachers.

I'm sorry, that I didn't spend four years of college at $40K per year on a degree that most of society denounces as useless, at least in the way that it is compensated. My deepest condolences go out to you for the hours, days, weeks, months, and now years that I spent learning how to be a better teacher for my students' sake. Shame on me for trying to learn in "five weeks" what it took you four years to learn.

I'm sorry, that my students asked me to come back next year, because I have been one of e few stable male figures in their lives this year. Unfortunately for you, I care about them enough to fight the battle again and again, day after day, with only "five weeks" of training or experience.

I'm sorry, that I gave up living close to my family in the suburbs of Lexington, Kentucky to come to a city like Chicago. Lord knows that the children of suburban Lexington need me more than my current students. I mean, they live in dangerous neighborhoods sometimes too.

And lastly, I'm sorry that my students grew 3 points on their EXPLORE tests this year.

Actually, I'm #notsorry.

Last day with kids, #toomuchfun

perks

"Charlie, don't you get it? I can't feel that.  It's sweet and everything, but it's like you're not even there sometimes.  It's great that you can listen and be a shoulder to someone, but what about when someone doesn't need a shoulder. What if they need the arms or something like that? You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love.  You just can't. You have to do things."

This is me with all females. Ever.

Woof.

office space life.

Know what is incredibly frustrating? I just can't do it all.  There just doesn't seem to be enough time in one day to accomplish the things that I want to do.  I'm sick of feeling inadequate.  But the problem goes further than this - if I actually do step up and do the things that I am supposed to do when I am supposed to do them, I have the most dull life in the history of the world.  Literally skull-numbingly dull.  I can't just go to grad school, do all of the grad school homework, be a teacher (not the biggest responsiblity in the world or anything), be a friend, be a brother, be a son, take care of adult responsibilities, do laundry, make my bed, cook myself dinner, put dishes in the dishwasher, practice personal hygiene, clean our house, and take care of mindless errands as my day to day life.  And yes,  I just forgot to include sleeping as a part of that list.

 Yes, I am capable of doing all of the things that I just listed and only doing those things.  But why do they have to co-exist with a fulfilling life?  To preserve my sanity, I feel like I have to slack on that list by going to the gym, watching netflix, spending time on Facebook and Twitter, watching regular TV, playing angry birds, read interesting books, blog, etc.  But then I get caught in this vicious cycle that not completing all of my assigned tasks just takes a giant dump on my mood and life.  It's really less than ideal.

I had such high ambitions for today, and 1st period has so discouraged me that I want to take the rest of the day off and just lay in bed, not responding to any phone calls or texts, and just be. You read that correctly, I just want to be. To exist. To think about nothing.  A la office space.

unfair

i'm so curious about you, mystery blog reader. i'll continue to share my life with you briefly. how was february 18th? you checked out my blog 9 times that day. of course, i'm assuming you are the exact same person every time, which is probably impossible.

currently, i am procrastinating what we in teaching call the "unit plan". we alternatively say "busywork for education and/or graduate level students".

in my entire life, i've never been much of a planner. this, in teaching, is presenting some sort of a problem. i ALWAYS have to be well-planned.  maybe i'm "transitioning to adulthood" as helen, my Teach for America advisor would say, but i still don't really like it.

I had a very candid conversation with my students about why I am a teacher today.  in a couple of classes, it actually went well and served a purpose.  in others, it didn't necessarily mean much. but one student said something today that really taught me a lesson, whether he meant to or not.  i was in the process of describing how i wasn't really aware of what i had until i had some real interactions with a camper that was battling sickle cell anemia, living in Memphis.  but before i got to that, i remarked, something to the effect of, "i had gotten through high school without really trying - i was going to college without really trying, and it all seemed to be because of where and with what resources i grew up." not the exact phrasing, but you get the picture.  of course, i was getting to the point that i previously highlighted - that my naivete to this has actually ignited my passion to help out with educational inequity.  but before i could get those words out, one of my students said,

"but that's not fair."

and you know what? he is right. it is not fair.  it is not fair that some people are dealt the hand where they spend their life in suburban kentucky wearing polo and going to keeneland while others are struggling on the street in chicago.. needless to say, i think we are on the breaking point for a few of my classes.  i just don't think i'll ever be able to get that image out of my head.

"but that's not fair."

blurry monday

Hey, you got a restless heart, beating out on your sleeve.

But I won't let this fire (re)start.

You say love is all that you need.

Well, you're not gonna get it from me.




Life feels a little blurry today.