Country boy (sort of) in the big city

Let's all take a little break from academic mumbo-jumbo and have a little discussion of cultural differences between where I was and where I am.

Living in Texas was great for me. I think back and I really didn't notice the long, hot, humid weather and eternal summers.

And now here I am, in Chicago, the great midwest. As many of you may or may not know, I have a fascination with middle America and all things Americana. Plop me down in Branson, Missouri and I'll have conversation fodder for the rest of my life. Chicago is Americana's cousin that went to college and tries to put his family behind him, but despite best efforts, craves a deep-fried apple pie from McDonalds every now and then.

I'd like to discuss a few things that I did not expect or just didn't even think of when moving to Chicago.

1) Shit closes really early. Just take a walk down Michigan Avenue where Tiffany, Neiman and American Girl have set up shop and you'll know where all the tourists and hoity-toity upper class likes to shop. Stroll down close to dusk and you'll quickly find that the only things still open for business are the Dunkin' Donuts/Baskin Robbins and the 7-11 both run by people who can barely speak English and have blood-shot eyes from their graveyard shifts.

2) Transportation is expensive. I'm not talking about filling up my gas-guzzling car every week, but the public transportation is surprisingly expensive. Living in Texas, where everyone drives, I had these romantic notions of public trains and buses that were a dime a trip and it takes you a few blocks to the malt shop where me and Peggy would rock out to the latest Chubby Checker hit. I come to find that it's two dollars each way on a train and, though you can get pretty much anywhere, it takes a good chunk of time to get from one place to another.

3) The eternal soda vs. pop vs. Coke debate. Nothing about me screams "NOT FROM CHICAGO" louder than my use of "Coke" as a carbonated, sweet beverage usually served in cans or bottles. Here, everything is pop. Pop like popcorn. Or to pop someone in the face. Or pop in and say hello. Not only is it just a spoken colloquialism, but it's found on menus, signs and generally accepted as the term for aforementioned beverage. Some people call it soda, but I will always say Coke.

4) Sales tax is 10%. So that WiiFit I just bought for 90 bucks? Ended up costing me 100 clams. 10%. Highest in the nation. Go figure.

5) It's all about the neighborhood you live in.
Lincoln Park = recent college grad with a 9 to 5 cubicle job where everyone chortles about how The Office is just like real life.
Lakeview = YuppieGay. Well adjusted gay man who also has a 9 to 5 job and laments how J.Crew doesn't make a cotton-cashmere full-zip sweater in that new deep purple.
Logan Square = A fan of gentrification, cheap rent and a desire to live somewhere where you may have just seen a drug deal on the corner. It's okay, though, because Wicker Park is just a few streets south.

6) It's cold, like 50 degrees, which is what I define as cold. I'm laughed at and told "Just wait". I don't care, I'm still cold.

I hear McCain likes us....

Things have been up and down lately. Tuesday was disgustingly positive. I wasn't sure if it actually happened. Kids -- learning. Wednesday, not so much. Chaos reigned.

I've come to learn that it is the nature of the job. Some days are good, most are bad, but that's just how it goes.

We're half way through with October and it's hard to believe to much time has flown by. Already the leaves are changing (!) and the weather is getting cooler (cold for me, but if I say that too loudly all the Chicagoans will scoff). Soon it'll be snowing -- and then thawing and the process will repeat.

I guess I don't have anything terribly interesting today. Nothing really note-worthy has been going on. Just another day minding the gap.

Has it really been a month? (but really a year)

It's hard to believe that the entire Teach for America ball began rolling about a year ago. I remember waking up at 6 am for my 18th century British law and literature class and wondering what I was going to do at year's end. I felt TFA would be a pretty good way of spending my future - at least at the time it was a convenient answer to those who were asking, including myself.

I never imagined what it would be actually like to be a teacher. It's gotten me to thinking about my own education, my childhood, the teachers I've had. My education has been nothing but sound. My parents were always supportive. I realize now that the experience I had is not the experience had by all.

In my position I've had the opportunity to work with every age from Kindergarten to 8th grade. That's 5 year olds to teenagers. I've seen what poor discipline and bad behavior looks like and more alarmingly I see those seeds being planted in the younger ones. I know that if something isn't done or changed, these little kids will be led down a path of defiance, ignorance and just an overall sense of uncaring.

Again, I bring the story back to the journey I've been on. Starting out as a college kid, sheltered and protected where the biggest obstacle I faced was where to go for happy hour. Now, I have human beings lives in my hands. Their futures are at stake. For once, the story has been about more than just myself.