pay -- check!

Dear sweet baby Jesus. Today was payday. I've worked my share of shit jobs that have paid measly amounts, but this is my first impossibly difficult job that pays a substantial amount.

Let's start out with the week. It was truly a week of ups and downs. A dear confidante and partner in this struggle was lost and I felt quite alone. I was determined, however, to chug along. Things alternated from suspiciously high to familiarly low. Some days it's hard to believe that I see the same group of kids. I realize that half-assing plans really doesn't pay off, but with no standards to align to, it's pretty much up to me to figure out what to do for the day. It's difficult to put myself in these kids' shoes and I find that I'm planning on what would keep me content rather than this group of rebellious ne'er-do-wells.

The days are long and the nights are short. The commute has become a routine inconvenience.

Here I am. Complaining Connie. Whining about how much things suck. It's interesting, because the lows are so incredibly low and seem to last forever and the highs are like blips on the radar. There are a few students who genuinely make me smile and show me that despite the fact that this school approaches education with a firm palm, education can exist. It's so painful because I know these kids can show me intelligence and self-control but they choose not to. Attempting to make someone change their choice is quite possibly the most difficult thing in the world. Now, take that challenge and multiply it by 200. Literally.

Everyday is a war. And in every class there are battles to be won and lost. For me, there is more defeat than victory.

Ultimately, this week fell in my favor if only because I got paid.

Two Weeks in the Trenches

Teaching is hard.

It's interesting that when people say "Teaching is going to be the hardest thing you ever do" - it's difficult to really understand. Certainly I've done difficult things -- bang out a bullshit paper about a topic I've read once. Study for finals, work 35 hours and deal with friends and family crisis.

Teaching, however, is the hardest thing I've ever done.

The best way to describe how I feel every day is defeated. This kids do not listen. They do not want to pay attention. They do not respect you. The slowly and effortlessly chip away at your soul and desire to live.

Okay -- that might sound a little overdramatic.

My days consist of waiting for a group of students. Then, they come in. I yell at them to sit down, be quiet, and stop giggling. Rarely do I even talk about anything academic related. I spend most of my time telling them that their behavior should be better or threatening them with a barrage of semi-hollow threats.

This week, I started crying. I cry because I know the want to learn, yet there are barriers obstructing the learning process. I cry because I feel thoroughly ineffective at a job I was selected to do. I cry because I don't know what to do. I've been thrown into this puddle and I have to tread water just to keep from drowning.

Teaching is hard. I cannot even convey to you the difficulty. The days get better and the days get worse. I think about giving up every single day. I will make it, though, because I know I can.

I will make it.

The Cusp

It's the day before the first day. Throughout Chicago I know thousands and thousands of kids are asleep right now, eagerly awaiting what will come of tomorrow.

Here I sit warmed by the glow of a Jon and Kate plus 8 marathon and my own thoughts of mingling incompetence. Well, maybe not incompetence, but whole unprepared-ness. I have absolutely no clue, 100% what I'm supposed to be doing tomorrow. My official job title is "Librarian" but I will, in fact, be instructing students. To what capacity, I'm not sure, but I do know that I will be providing supplemental reading instruction to all grades at the school. I'm going in tomorrow with little more than a smile and a can-do attitude.

I should offer a little more background about my school, or rather the location of my school. In order to get to my school I take the blue line downtown, transfer to the red line and then ride that train two stops from the end of the line. From there I walk 20 minutes through city and a construction zone to my school. The entire process takes between an hour and fifteen to an hour and a half.

I have a million questions buzzing in my head. I'm so unsure of myself it's bordering on psychosis. No matter what, though, time is plowing on. I remember today at noon thinking midnight will never come, but here we are, one hour before the clock strikes 12.

Tomorrow I'll official be an educator. Me. It's hard to believe. One year ago I was starting my last year in college unsure of what I would do with my life once I graduated. I flippantly toyed with the notion of Teach for America not fully aware of what it would entail or that I would actually make it this far.

I really do know that I have an opportunity to affect lives. The process of getting there -bureaucratic red tape of the Chicago Public School district as well as the hoops of alternate certification - somewhat tarnishes the idealism of many of us, but ultimately it really is about possibility.

I know that despite my fears and immaturity, the time will come when I'm on that train riding toward my school and whether I like it or not it gets one second closer.

Hermes would be happy

For the past two weeks I've been dealing with the bureaucratic bullshit of the Chicago Public School district compounded on the less-than-efficient goings on at Teach for America.

Unfortunately I'm still not placed. Though I still believe the staff is working very hard to find placement, the days tick by as school draws nearer and nearer.

I've been on one interview, which actually was just me dropping off my resume an hour and a half away, and went the two different CPS buildings three different times. All fruitless. It's a lot of running around, being told I'm missing form X or document why-the-hell-am-I-doing-this. Today I was at the breaking point. I was physically shaken and almost broke down in tears. Most of my frustration stems from the fact that I'm supposed to be putting all of my energy into my kids, but instead I'm trying to navigate a system that just doesn't work.

As the minutes count down closer to my birthday, I've never felt so out of control. Yes, I'm 23, but I still feel like I'm a 12-year old with no direction or power. I feel like you should be required to take a test at each subsequent birthday checking to see if you are emotionally and mentally prepared to be the next age.

Surely I wouldn't have passed the 15-year old test.

I feel like the Edward of today is a lot like the Edward of ten years ago. Except this one can drink. And swear. And buy porn.

But I still can't rent a car -- some things never change.

FAQ

It's been how long since I last updated? Well, you know the process of moving in, boxes, air mattress, lack of internet. It's all a process.

I still don't have placement yet. Yes, I technically don't have a job. I'm going to go ahead and explain everything right here because everyone, EVERYONE, wants to know why I've been accepted to Teach for America but still don't have a school yet. So without further ado, here goes:

Chicago has a decentralized public school system, one of the few totally decentralized districts in the country. What this means is, is that in typical Teach for America (TFA from here on out) regions, the districts are centralized so there is one person that oversees all the vacancies in the district. This person tells TFA that there are X number of openings in the district. TFA then puts X people in these vacancies. In Chicago, there is a person who oversees the district, but it is up to the individual schools to choose which teachers they want for their positions. As such, the schools usually do not know what positions they have open until, typically, right before school starts (September 2nd). So what TFA is now doing is trying to organize the 50 or 60 kids without jobs on individual interviews with principals which, I'm assuming, is an arduous, time consuming task. I'm placing a lot of faith in them that they will get me on an interview and hired before school starts.

Frequently asked questions:
Are you guaranteed placement?
-Yes.

Are you getting paid?
-Not at the moment, but I am guaranteed a check as soon as everyone else gets a check.

Man, does that suck?
-Yes, a lot.

Can you just go find schools on your own?
-Not really. Only certain schools qualify to have a TFA person at it and I don't really know what they are.

Are you nervous, anxious?
-Extremely.

Do you at least know what grade/subject you're teaching?
-No. It could be anything from K-8 and any subject. It depends on the vacancies.

What are you doing with all your time?
-Exploring the city. It's not as fun as it sounds since all I really have on my mind is my lack of a job.

I hope this answers some of the burning questions you might have. I've been put through an emotional wringer throughout this process and talking about placement has been difficult. I hope to have some more positive news soon.

And...done!

It's the end.

Well, sort of the end.

I'm sitting in a classroom decorated with construction paper cutouts and grammar tips on butcher paper.  The desks are three inches too low for a grown human being and the whiteboard shows remnants of math, spelling and reading.

Five weeks later, it's all over.  The kids, the lessons, the nights spent awake, cursing what was left of my life.  Things eventually got more -- routine, not easier, but more familiar.  The people here are a mix of tenacious go-getters and slackers looking to pad their resume.  On weekends some went to the beach, some got drunk, some planned for the week ahead, but everyone took a little breather.

In the end, the kids were a handful, their mood changes on a whim but in the end as a teacher, you held their attention.  You commanded the room when required.

It's all just practice, though.  

Last night was the closing ceremony.  Hundreds of kids, dressed in matching shirts singing chants and clapping and cheering and yelling.  The room was filled with hundreds of thuderous voices.  It was like summer camp, but with vodka.

It's hard not to get wrapped up in the heightened emotion - the collective swelling of emotion.  It's all just beginning though, the road still lies ahead.

Generic Update Title

I went to Disneyland.

It was friggin' magical, but for a total cost of nearly $200 bucks they'd better be shoving pixie dust so far up my ass I can taste it.  

It's a lot smaller than you might remember.  Things are really close together and it's substantially less impressive through the eyes of a 22 year old.  The rides were fine, the lines were short, the weather was nice.  All in all it was a fair enough time.

Back to reality.

Teaching, teaching, teaching.  Apparently it's all I talk about nowadays.  Lessons have been up and down.  The lesson part I seem to do well with, but the teaching tends to be a bit more shaky.  The kids are their usually selves, stubborn, tired and moody.  I find myself trying to be a better teacher, but glossing over the kids in the process.  

Today was my last day teaching new material.  I remember three weeks ago when everything was so new and scary.  Now everything is routine and scary.  I've gotten past the point of blaming the program for using the students as guinea pigs.  At this point I just want to be home or somewhere where I feel like I'm supposed to be.  

I'm really going to miss (most) of the people here.  When you spend five weeks with the same group of people, you inevitably get attached.  In most cases, the people here are people I genuinely consider friends and will find it difficult waking up at 5 am without them.  

It's been a long, strange journey here in the final days of institute.  LA has not been a kind mistress to me and I can honestly say I won't miss it.  I feel so disconnected from the world and what used to be my life that I'm ready to establish a new me.  There still are a few more days, but I think I can handle myself until then.

Oh!  and there was an mf-ing earthquake today at around 11:40.  I had never been in one before.  Everything just started to slide around and it seemed like all the molecules of the building had turned gelatinous.  Chalk that one up to experience.