If you had seen me walking down the street on my way home yesterday, you would have never guessed that it's been a rough past two weeks. You would have seen me walking briskly down the sidewalk in the sunshine, smiling a little bit to myself. Some Joanna Newsom circa 2004 was playing on my ipod and although I had semi-permanent dark circles under my eyes and the slacks I was wearing hadn't been washed in about two weeks, I otherwise looked and felt refreshed. For the first time in a while, I had a feeling of warmth, the feeling that comes when you feel, without a whole lot of evidence to necessarily support you, that everything's going to be just fine.
My classmates and I have bonded significantly through all of this--sometimes I have to remind myself that I've only known these people for a month. I suppose when you spend so many of your waking hours with a small group of people and in stressful circumstances, you break through barriers with people pretty quickly. You learn to share the good and the bad with equal candor, and you find that you can pull yourself together at a moment's notice for someone else when comfort is needed.
As you have probably picked up from my posts, there's a lot of ups and downs that happen in my world from day to day and from week to week. That seems to be a general theme among the fellows. Tuesday, for instance, my classmates and I all had bad days with our summer school classes. It seemed that for some unknown reason, all of our kids decided to act out on the same day, in different schools all across the Bronx. My fellow Fellows and I converged in the afternoon and swapped stories and frustrations. One friend had a mini-meltdown when describing the scene in her classroom that morning. We all felt disheartened and sobered. Wednesday, though, most of us had markedly better experiences in our classrooms, which led to a triumphant tone back at our university in the afternoon.
Thursday was another rocky day in my summer school class. Two girls, who both seemed to be having a bad day in general, got into a screaming fight; one of the girls may be getting kicked out of summer school soon, in which case she'll be repeating the eight grade. I learned earlier in the week that she was suspended for three months this past year for hitting an administrator. Oddly enough she's one of my favorites--I guess I'm lucky that she likes me, too. I've been trying to encourage her to work harder in class so she can pass, but now I'm worried that she won't be allowed to finish the course. She's already 15 years old.
I realize I've made an accidental habit of ending my posts with a quote, but I think I like this trend. To continue it, here's one from a classmate about his first day of student teaching. I've thought of what he said several times. Like my class, his is also comprised of eighth graders who are far behind in math but being passed on to high school. It's easy for me to identify with his sentiment on good days, and although I have to think about it a little harder on bad days, I've noticed that when I've calmed down and assessed the day as a whole, I identify with it those days, too. I think that's a good sign. I obviously didn't write down what he said, but this was the gist of it:
"My kids, you know, they're rowdy. They've got lots of problems, and today was a hard day but at the end I stepped back, thought about it, and I thought to myself... you know, I can do this."
7.16.2009
7.09.2009
running on sunshine.
Everyone I've talked to in the past month has warned me that student teaching during summer school is a grab bag of misadventures in education. My words, not theirs. Theirs were often far more blunt. This week I began my assignment at a middle school in the Bronx, and this afternoon when my FA asked me for three adjectives to describe how I was feeling, the first one that came to mind, and the only one that seemed important, was "heartbroken."
No anecdotes or advice could have prepared me for the reality of the situation in which my field training has placed me. Factually, my class is what I was anticipating. I have 24 students who have passed their eighth grade exit exam and have been accepted into high school but failed multiple courses this past school year. Essentially, their summer school course is meant to give them seat time so they can be passed onto the next grade. Many of my students can't do simple multiplication. Several have moderate to severe behavioral problems. In general the class is rowdy and gets out of control regularly, though of course the factors contributing to the problem come from every direction and I can't even begin to disentangle them. In other areas, my class has fewer challenges. As far as I can tell, all of my students speak, read and write English fluently and we only have one student with an IEP (which gives a special ed designation).
What I wasn't prepared for was the look of sheer defeat that so many of my kids exhibit. They have so much working against them, how can I judge them? In my time with them so far, I have seen them screamed at, embarrassed, taunted, called stupid and in general been taught that the people berating them, their teachers, think that they're worthless. And while it's happening, while I'm stuck not knowing what to do, feeling powerless to undo all the damage that's already been done to these bright, energetic people, all I can think is the world has failed these kids.
On my first day, I sat in the back and observed. I immediately identified which kids needed which types of attention - the movers, the talkers, the ones set on mentally detaching themselves from the situation. I paid special attention to a boy in the class who spent the entire period on his cell phone, mostly texting and watching videos but sometimes blatantly talking on it, too. When he wasn't talking he sat very quietly, hunched over in his chair. He didn't often engage with the kids around him, he didn't do any of his work, and he looked miserable. The next day I moved around the room and helped them on group assignments, so I made frequent trips to his group. Every few minutes I came by to check that they were in fact working, and asked if they needed any help. Reluctantly, and very quietly, he began asking questions. He sometimes struggled to articulate what he needed to ask, sometimes just pointing at a problem and saying "I just don't.." and then shrugging his shoulders. I would help him through a few steps and then leave him to work while I walked around the room, and I would always return a few minutes later to check his progress. He not only finished his work, but he did so sooner than many of his classmates. Near the end of the day, as I was walking past his desk he sheepishly waved at me and once he had my attention muttered a "thank you." It was only two days into my week, but I was already mentally and physically exhausted. I was also dealing with more of an emotional weight than I had been expecting upon entering my classroom and seeing the conditions there. So for a lot of reasons, when my student thanked me I quickly excused myself from the room under the guise of taking a bathroom break. The truth was that I couldn't let my kids see me tearing up. Instead of going to the bathroom, I took a walk down the hall and calmed myself down. When I told this story to my girlfriend, who's also a teacher, she replied, "you have to understand... some of these kids, they've never really been taught. They don't know what that is." In the grand scheme of things, I can't really rank what the saddest part of all of this is. It all meshes together and the tangible result is that I have 13 year olds in my class whose math skills are on the second grade level, and they're being passed on to high school because there's no room for them in the middle school.
That's not to say I haven't had any hits this week, because I have. I taught my first full lesson this morning and despite the behavioral problems it was still productive and I genuinely enjoy working with my kids. In fact, despite my exhaustion I feel energized when I'm working with them and I'm hopeful that by the end of the month, I'll have taught them something they'll bring with them to high school. When I left my class this morning, I told my kids goodbye and thanked them for doing a good job today. They all waved brightly and chirped "Oh, Ms. R, will we see you Monday?! Oh, have a good weekend! Thank you! Bye bye!"
I think that was the best part of my day, knowing that even though they act out and a lot of times their issues seem beyond my reach, I guess I did something right. They actually seemed excited to have me come back next week and though I have a lot to learn when it comes to teaching them, and I often feel frustrated, sometimes almost defeated, by the challenges I face with them, I'm excited to see them again too.
No anecdotes or advice could have prepared me for the reality of the situation in which my field training has placed me. Factually, my class is what I was anticipating. I have 24 students who have passed their eighth grade exit exam and have been accepted into high school but failed multiple courses this past school year. Essentially, their summer school course is meant to give them seat time so they can be passed onto the next grade. Many of my students can't do simple multiplication. Several have moderate to severe behavioral problems. In general the class is rowdy and gets out of control regularly, though of course the factors contributing to the problem come from every direction and I can't even begin to disentangle them. In other areas, my class has fewer challenges. As far as I can tell, all of my students speak, read and write English fluently and we only have one student with an IEP (which gives a special ed designation).
What I wasn't prepared for was the look of sheer defeat that so many of my kids exhibit. They have so much working against them, how can I judge them? In my time with them so far, I have seen them screamed at, embarrassed, taunted, called stupid and in general been taught that the people berating them, their teachers, think that they're worthless. And while it's happening, while I'm stuck not knowing what to do, feeling powerless to undo all the damage that's already been done to these bright, energetic people, all I can think is the world has failed these kids.
On my first day, I sat in the back and observed. I immediately identified which kids needed which types of attention - the movers, the talkers, the ones set on mentally detaching themselves from the situation. I paid special attention to a boy in the class who spent the entire period on his cell phone, mostly texting and watching videos but sometimes blatantly talking on it, too. When he wasn't talking he sat very quietly, hunched over in his chair. He didn't often engage with the kids around him, he didn't do any of his work, and he looked miserable. The next day I moved around the room and helped them on group assignments, so I made frequent trips to his group. Every few minutes I came by to check that they were in fact working, and asked if they needed any help. Reluctantly, and very quietly, he began asking questions. He sometimes struggled to articulate what he needed to ask, sometimes just pointing at a problem and saying "I just don't.." and then shrugging his shoulders. I would help him through a few steps and then leave him to work while I walked around the room, and I would always return a few minutes later to check his progress. He not only finished his work, but he did so sooner than many of his classmates. Near the end of the day, as I was walking past his desk he sheepishly waved at me and once he had my attention muttered a "thank you." It was only two days into my week, but I was already mentally and physically exhausted. I was also dealing with more of an emotional weight than I had been expecting upon entering my classroom and seeing the conditions there. So for a lot of reasons, when my student thanked me I quickly excused myself from the room under the guise of taking a bathroom break. The truth was that I couldn't let my kids see me tearing up. Instead of going to the bathroom, I took a walk down the hall and calmed myself down. When I told this story to my girlfriend, who's also a teacher, she replied, "you have to understand... some of these kids, they've never really been taught. They don't know what that is." In the grand scheme of things, I can't really rank what the saddest part of all of this is. It all meshes together and the tangible result is that I have 13 year olds in my class whose math skills are on the second grade level, and they're being passed on to high school because there's no room for them in the middle school.
That's not to say I haven't had any hits this week, because I have. I taught my first full lesson this morning and despite the behavioral problems it was still productive and I genuinely enjoy working with my kids. In fact, despite my exhaustion I feel energized when I'm working with them and I'm hopeful that by the end of the month, I'll have taught them something they'll bring with them to high school. When I left my class this morning, I told my kids goodbye and thanked them for doing a good job today. They all waved brightly and chirped "Oh, Ms. R, will we see you Monday?! Oh, have a good weekend! Thank you! Bye bye!"
I think that was the best part of my day, knowing that even though they act out and a lot of times their issues seem beyond my reach, I guess I did something right. They actually seemed excited to have me come back next week and though I have a lot to learn when it comes to teaching them, and I often feel frustrated, sometimes almost defeated, by the challenges I face with them, I'm excited to see them again too.
6.24.2009
that's right.
I realize I've been awfully quiet these past few weeks. Rest assured, dear readers, that I intend to give you a proper update soon. For now, I'll suffice at giving you a brief summary of what my days have been looking like:
I leave my apartment at 7:45 in the morning, in time to catch the train to the Bronx. An hour later I arrive at my university, just in time to settle in for 9.5 hours of class. I get home at around 7:30 at night, exhausted, hungry, and with about an hour's worth of homework to do. I usually spend an hour or so upon my arrival back at my apartment relaxing and stuffing face, after which I do my homework and any chores which need to be done, relax a little bit more and go to bed by 11pm. Ok so I've only actually hit my target 11pm bedtime once, but I'm working on it. I have high hopes for tonight.
Although the above probably makes me sound crabby and possibly even disillusioned, that's not the case. I'm actually really enjoying this whole process. Though the three hour classes are a bit of an endurance test, I find that I'm better able to appreciate school and being a student since I took this past year off from academia. I'm learning about the NYC school system and the mechanics of teaching at a kind of surprisingly rapid pace. I'm also meeting so many intriguing, kind, and wonderfully intelligent people. This morning, I actually looked forward to getting to class because I realized that I enjoy spending my day with my cohort. I'm not sure how many people can say that about their jobs.
That's even more than I'd intended to say in this post, but there you have it, a little snippet of my life. I'll get more detailed soon, when I have the time and energy to tell you more. For now, I'll leave you with a quote from my Fellow Advisor, who is herself a secondary science teacher and teaching fellow. To put it into context, this was said when relating how a stranger showed her some attitude the other day:
"Really?! Really. Do you know what I do for a living? Because I'm not afraid of you."
I leave my apartment at 7:45 in the morning, in time to catch the train to the Bronx. An hour later I arrive at my university, just in time to settle in for 9.5 hours of class. I get home at around 7:30 at night, exhausted, hungry, and with about an hour's worth of homework to do. I usually spend an hour or so upon my arrival back at my apartment relaxing and stuffing face, after which I do my homework and any chores which need to be done, relax a little bit more and go to bed by 11pm. Ok so I've only actually hit my target 11pm bedtime once, but I'm working on it. I have high hopes for tonight.
Although the above probably makes me sound crabby and possibly even disillusioned, that's not the case. I'm actually really enjoying this whole process. Though the three hour classes are a bit of an endurance test, I find that I'm better able to appreciate school and being a student since I took this past year off from academia. I'm learning about the NYC school system and the mechanics of teaching at a kind of surprisingly rapid pace. I'm also meeting so many intriguing, kind, and wonderfully intelligent people. This morning, I actually looked forward to getting to class because I realized that I enjoy spending my day with my cohort. I'm not sure how many people can say that about their jobs.
That's even more than I'd intended to say in this post, but there you have it, a little snippet of my life. I'll get more detailed soon, when I have the time and energy to tell you more. For now, I'll leave you with a quote from my Fellow Advisor, who is herself a secondary science teacher and teaching fellow. To put it into context, this was said when relating how a stranger showed her some attitude the other day:
"Really?! Really. Do you know what I do for a living? Because I'm not afraid of you."
6.02.2009
Tuesday, bloody Tuesday
Today I had an observation at a school right along the border of Brooklyn and Queens. I had quite the adventure getting there - I headed the wrong way off the train and ended up wandering further into Queens than I'd like to admit before I realized my error and headed back. I also decided to break in a new pair of dress shoes for the occasion, a move I regretted partway through my misguided trek when I realized I had rubbed my heels completely raw. Limping, I admitted defeat to the shoes and stopped briefly to change into the converse I'd stashed in my bag. Though I left with time to spare and began the day well dressed, I arrived at the school twenty minutes late and wearing slacks, a dress shirt, and sneakers. Fail.
Though my morning got off to a shaky start, my observation went well. My host, Ms. H, was a fantastic teacher, and I felt inspired by how well she engaged her students in the material and at the same time quelled any disruptions before they could become an issue. From my vantage point, I could see that my host had a great deal of respect for her students' abilities and time, and they in turn showed the same respect for her. The reason I mention time is there was an interesting dynamic happening, one which I later talked to Ms. H about during her break. Due to the approaching Regents exams, she's planned out each lesson for the next week to ensure all the necessary material gets covered. The trouble, if it can really be called that, is that her students are bright and inquisitive, and though their questions were insightful Ms. H had to limit open discussion and table questions that would normally be welcome and encouraged for the sake of time. She later commented that she felt she was cheating them out of learning material they were actually interested in so she could grind through topics they had to know for their exam. But what to do?
One of the first things Ms. H told me and the other observer (also a new Fellow) upon dismissing her class was that she's gotten loads of questions about the hiring freeze. Her advice was concise and honest: there are always an ample amount of Chemistry positions in the Bronx, but there's a reason for that, too. And another bit of advice: be glad you're not doing Math, as apparently those jobs are more scarce and they're more high stakes, as the Math Regents is a graduation requirement.
Since I started preparing for this program in earnest, and especially since I moved to the city, I feel that I've been taking a crash course in educational politics. It's interesting, and a little bizarre at times, but these little tidbits are all part of the same puzzle. I may be observing another class soon, and if so I'll report back on how that goes.
Though my morning got off to a shaky start, my observation went well. My host, Ms. H, was a fantastic teacher, and I felt inspired by how well she engaged her students in the material and at the same time quelled any disruptions before they could become an issue. From my vantage point, I could see that my host had a great deal of respect for her students' abilities and time, and they in turn showed the same respect for her. The reason I mention time is there was an interesting dynamic happening, one which I later talked to Ms. H about during her break. Due to the approaching Regents exams, she's planned out each lesson for the next week to ensure all the necessary material gets covered. The trouble, if it can really be called that, is that her students are bright and inquisitive, and though their questions were insightful Ms. H had to limit open discussion and table questions that would normally be welcome and encouraged for the sake of time. She later commented that she felt she was cheating them out of learning material they were actually interested in so she could grind through topics they had to know for their exam. But what to do?
One of the first things Ms. H told me and the other observer (also a new Fellow) upon dismissing her class was that she's gotten loads of questions about the hiring freeze. Her advice was concise and honest: there are always an ample amount of Chemistry positions in the Bronx, but there's a reason for that, too. And another bit of advice: be glad you're not doing Math, as apparently those jobs are more scarce and they're more high stakes, as the Math Regents is a graduation requirement.
Since I started preparing for this program in earnest, and especially since I moved to the city, I feel that I've been taking a crash course in educational politics. It's interesting, and a little bizarre at times, but these little tidbits are all part of the same puzzle. I may be observing another class soon, and if so I'll report back on how that goes.
6.01.2009
New York City
I realize I've been awfully quiet recently. About two weeks ago, moving took over my life and I'm just now settling down in my new home. Granted that I've been here a week now.. it's taken me that long to stop wandering the city every day like a star-crazed tourist.
Ok, I lied. I'm still doing that, but the urge is calming down a little. Aside from being consumed with the moving process and the new city adventuring process, there hasn't been much to update on the NYCTF front. I finally landed one classroom observation, and have another one in the works. I'm hoping to get at least one more in the next two weeks, as I'd like to get as much experience in while I have the downtime to do so. I'm so fortunate I was able to move here several weeks before pre-service training kicks off - I was right in my estimation that it would take me that long to get aquainted with life in the city and do any decent amount of networking in a place where I know hardly anyone.
The only other report I have is that Saturday I got to meet up with a few other Cohort 18 Fellows, including thirdgenteacher. We all got to share our concerns going into the program, swap snippets of advice we'd gleaned from others, and exchange email addresses so we can keep in touch in the future. As a friend of mine from Cohort 16 said, it's good to get to know people ahead of time, because come June 15th, if they're not in your concentration and at your university, you'll never see them again. I can't wait to hear how this process goes for the people I met Saturday, and I really do hope we'll keep in touch.
The math and science immersion Fellows start today, and I hope they have a great first day. We non-immersion folk start in two weeks, and in the next few days I'll be tying together some metaphorical loose ends that I left hanging around the time I sold all my furniture in Arkansas.
Oh, Arkansas. I kind of miss it sometimes, and I'm sure I'll miss it more in the weeks ahead, but for now I'm happy and excited to be where I am.
Ok, I lied. I'm still doing that, but the urge is calming down a little. Aside from being consumed with the moving process and the new city adventuring process, there hasn't been much to update on the NYCTF front. I finally landed one classroom observation, and have another one in the works. I'm hoping to get at least one more in the next two weeks, as I'd like to get as much experience in while I have the downtime to do so. I'm so fortunate I was able to move here several weeks before pre-service training kicks off - I was right in my estimation that it would take me that long to get aquainted with life in the city and do any decent amount of networking in a place where I know hardly anyone.
The only other report I have is that Saturday I got to meet up with a few other Cohort 18 Fellows, including thirdgenteacher. We all got to share our concerns going into the program, swap snippets of advice we'd gleaned from others, and exchange email addresses so we can keep in touch in the future. As a friend of mine from Cohort 16 said, it's good to get to know people ahead of time, because come June 15th, if they're not in your concentration and at your university, you'll never see them again. I can't wait to hear how this process goes for the people I met Saturday, and I really do hope we'll keep in touch.
The math and science immersion Fellows start today, and I hope they have a great first day. We non-immersion folk start in two weeks, and in the next few days I'll be tying together some metaphorical loose ends that I left hanging around the time I sold all my furniture in Arkansas.
Oh, Arkansas. I kind of miss it sometimes, and I'm sure I'll miss it more in the weeks ahead, but for now I'm happy and excited to be where I am.
5.09.2009
the waiting period, part 3
Do you want the good news or the bad news first?
The good news is that Friday I was contacted for an interview, and I also found out that I got assigned to Lehman. I suppose the assignment itself wasn't good news as I don't know enough about most of the schools in NYC one way or another to have a preference, but this mention in the curriculum description was fun surprise:
Fellows will experience informal science teaching and learning by participating in a required course at the American Museum of Natural History, which culminates in a class trip where Fellows will bring their students to the museum.
The good feelings ended there, however. That same day, new Fellows received some sticky news: the DOE has issued a hiring freeze on all new teachers for the upcoming school year. There are a few exceptions to the rule and NYCTF seems confident, as always, that close to the start of the school year the ban will be lifted and there will be room in the market for the Fellows. I'm as nervous as ever, but my resolve is solid. It's too late to back out now, right?
Even if it wasn't, I still think I'd be taking the risk. I spent the past day at home with my family in Memphis, and as my grandmother put it, "you're young, you're single (are you single? no girlfriends? not dating anyone at all? no love interest?) well like I said, you're single! you're free, you've got nothing tying you down, go live it up." And yes, she used the phrase "love interest." While I'm hesitant to categorize living in an expensive city on a meager stipend in a particularly stressful situation "living it up," I got what she meant. Thanks, Grandma.
The good news is that Friday I was contacted for an interview, and I also found out that I got assigned to Lehman. I suppose the assignment itself wasn't good news as I don't know enough about most of the schools in NYC one way or another to have a preference, but this mention in the curriculum description was fun surprise:
Fellows will experience informal science teaching and learning by participating in a required course at the American Museum of Natural History, which culminates in a class trip where Fellows will bring their students to the museum.
The good feelings ended there, however. That same day, new Fellows received some sticky news: the DOE has issued a hiring freeze on all new teachers for the upcoming school year. There are a few exceptions to the rule and NYCTF seems confident, as always, that close to the start of the school year the ban will be lifted and there will be room in the market for the Fellows. I'm as nervous as ever, but my resolve is solid. It's too late to back out now, right?
Even if it wasn't, I still think I'd be taking the risk. I spent the past day at home with my family in Memphis, and as my grandmother put it, "you're young, you're single (are you single? no girlfriends? not dating anyone at all? no love interest?) well like I said, you're single! you're free, you've got nothing tying you down, go live it up." And yes, she used the phrase "love interest." While I'm hesitant to categorize living in an expensive city on a meager stipend in a particularly stressful situation "living it up," I got what she meant. Thanks, Grandma.
5.05.2009
the waiting period, part 2.
This is the phase I'm calling Project Liquidation.
I've secured a room in the city, and I'll be schlepping what's left of my belongings to my new home in 2.5 weeks. It's approaching fast, kids.
In that time frame, I need to figure out exactly what I'll be doing with all of my possessions. I plan on selling most of my furniture and giving away the rest, and I'll be transporting a carload of odds and ends to my parents' house this weekend. Friends have already claimed most of what's in my kitchen, so now I'm making Craigslist ads and putting little dots on claimed items and trying to figure out exactly how much can fit in a Corolla with two people and two cats in tow.
Still no news on a classroom observation--supposedly in years past the Fellows posted a couple of videos for those who weren't able to observe in person, and although that would be a welcome backup plan I'm still hoping I won't have to resort to it. Otherwise, the work is coming along. I'm almost done with my online courses and reading, and I signed my commitment form yesterday. I'm not even sure why I waited over the weekend to do it. I think it was somehow comforting for a few days to at least ponder the idea of changing my mind before I locked myself into the program, even if I know well and good I made up my mind the second I got in.
One bit of information in the commitment letter was unexpected but welcome. After last year's debacle in which a (disputed) number of Fellows weren't able to find teaching positions by the deadline at the start of the fall semester, they've added another period of training, to be accompanied by a stipend, for anyone in the same position this year. It's a bit of a relief to know we have a little bit of a safety net should the worst case scenario happen, especially since the webinar for accepted applicants that I attended recently did nothing to quell my fears. This is to say nothing negative about the folks from NYCTF who put on the webinar -- I'm definitely glad I attended the session. There were some questions I hadn't even really articulated yet that were asked by other attendees and answered by the hosts. What made me nervous was the party line I heard repeatedly throughout the hour-long event, something along the lines of "the right number of the right people in the right burrows." I don't envy the task the Fellows had this year, everything considered, and I'm glad they made the decisions they did to ensure we all have a good chance of getting hired by mid-September. I'm glad that the program was upfront about the forecasted reduced need for new teachers this upcoming school year, I'm just nervous that it's bad enough to neccesitate such a small Cohort this year.
So, my theme of the month is: nerves.
I should know my university assignment sometime soon, which will be useful if only so I can have more fodder for my compulsive google map route making. I'll keep you posted.
I've secured a room in the city, and I'll be schlepping what's left of my belongings to my new home in 2.5 weeks. It's approaching fast, kids.
In that time frame, I need to figure out exactly what I'll be doing with all of my possessions. I plan on selling most of my furniture and giving away the rest, and I'll be transporting a carload of odds and ends to my parents' house this weekend. Friends have already claimed most of what's in my kitchen, so now I'm making Craigslist ads and putting little dots on claimed items and trying to figure out exactly how much can fit in a Corolla with two people and two cats in tow.
Still no news on a classroom observation--supposedly in years past the Fellows posted a couple of videos for those who weren't able to observe in person, and although that would be a welcome backup plan I'm still hoping I won't have to resort to it. Otherwise, the work is coming along. I'm almost done with my online courses and reading, and I signed my commitment form yesterday. I'm not even sure why I waited over the weekend to do it. I think it was somehow comforting for a few days to at least ponder the idea of changing my mind before I locked myself into the program, even if I know well and good I made up my mind the second I got in.
One bit of information in the commitment letter was unexpected but welcome. After last year's debacle in which a (disputed) number of Fellows weren't able to find teaching positions by the deadline at the start of the fall semester, they've added another period of training, to be accompanied by a stipend, for anyone in the same position this year. It's a bit of a relief to know we have a little bit of a safety net should the worst case scenario happen, especially since the webinar for accepted applicants that I attended recently did nothing to quell my fears. This is to say nothing negative about the folks from NYCTF who put on the webinar -- I'm definitely glad I attended the session. There were some questions I hadn't even really articulated yet that were asked by other attendees and answered by the hosts. What made me nervous was the party line I heard repeatedly throughout the hour-long event, something along the lines of "the right number of the right people in the right burrows." I don't envy the task the Fellows had this year, everything considered, and I'm glad they made the decisions they did to ensure we all have a good chance of getting hired by mid-September. I'm glad that the program was upfront about the forecasted reduced need for new teachers this upcoming school year, I'm just nervous that it's bad enough to neccesitate such a small Cohort this year.
So, my theme of the month is: nerves.
I should know my university assignment sometime soon, which will be useful if only so I can have more fodder for my compulsive google map route making. I'll keep you posted.
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