Cip @ MindSay

I am now officially....a teacher.


I interviewed for a spot yesterday, and they called me and told me I got it, and I called them back today and accepted it.

I was up most of last night thinking about it.

It's still a very hard thing for me, knowing that I'm going to be up here while all of my friends are down in New York.  I won't get to be a part of the Social Justice teaching group that I love and admire so much, and it is about 20 degrees colder up here in winter than it is where I'm from (It's about 73 right now, and I'm wearing long sleeves and a sweatshirt).

In the end, it's just a  year, and a great opportunity.  I have a co-teacher, and three students.  I've been told they're pretty severely involved, but I know I can handle it.

I'm trying to focus not on what I'm missing, but the fact that I'm gaining a year of experience, and that living at home will let me have more money to pay off my loans, but it's hard.  I am excited for tomorrow, though :)

I fell in love about 87 times this past weekend.

I fell in love with Chicago, definitely.  I got off the plane, and it was all I could do to not bend to the ground and kiss it, the way I'll do when I finally get to Eretz Yisrael, or maybe the next time I get to New  York.

I fell in love with the sailor who was on standby while I sat and knitted, waiting 5 hours for my friends to show up.  I know that's really shallow, and I've neeeeeeeeeever been 'man in uniform' crazy, but I couldn't look away from this gentlemen.  I really think it could have worked out between us :).

I fell in love with our hotel room.  It was bigger (and nicer) than my house.

I fell more in love with Val, Dan, Em, Veronica, Bree, and Symone.  I am so blessed to have these people in my life.  Next  year, I feel like C.I.P. will not be as intimate, since we're doubling in size. Even though it's a great group of people joining, I can't help but thank my lucky stars that this trip was with the original bunch.

I fell more in love with Anne Marie for having us over and making us dinner.  After not getting to really eat the whole weekend, she was her usual amazing chef/baker and we all ate like GODS.  And their apartment is gorgeous, and David remembered me (which is important, in my mind).  We miss them SO much.  I love that I can look at Bree and Anne Marie and not see a neon, flashing sign overhead that says PROFESSOR! PROFESSOR!  Instead, I see FRIEND! or AMAZING PERSON! or MENTOR!.  Feelings like that make me feel like all the money I spent at NYU was worth more.  I could have gone to a million different schools, but I wouldn't have this.

I fell more in love with Natlija.  Natlija is Anne Marie and David's 5 (a week away from 6) year old daughter.  I cannot believe how tall she got, or how smart she is.  I mean, when we got there, she sat us all down on the floor in the living room to give us a presentation.  Most little kids who do that will present a sillly dance, or sing a song.  Do you know what Natalija presented?  A TRI-FOLD SCIENCE BOARD, ON WHICH SHE HAD A SCIENTIFIC QUERY.  She actually posed the question, "Which kind of gum lasts the longest?" and then did a hypothesis, trials (2 for each kind of gum, to make sure), a summary of her results....  did I mention she's 5!?!?  And she presented to a room full of elementary school teachers.  We were all FLOOOOOOOOOORED.  She also gave lessons about being 'FANCY'.  For instance, yellow is plain, but gold is FANCY. Leather is plain, but patten leather is FANCY.  Glasses are plain, but sunglasses are FANCY.  She also labeled EVERYTHING we ate, or ate with.  I'm sure she got SOME help spelling the word 'knives', but on her own, she was able to spell 'Veronica'.  The only help she got was we told her it was verOnica.
At dinner, she decided I was her favorite, so she smushed onto the table with me to eat.  And I tricked her into eating her vegetables AND I taught her a math word.  I think Anne Marie was proud (she was our math teacher at NYU).  I taught Natalija about estimation, and then I asked her to estimate how many bites it would take to eat her salad.  She actually got the salad, and the cornbread guesses right, and was one off on the black beans.

I fell in love with the bartender at the club we wound up at.  I truly feel that would have worked out better than the sailor would have.  I mean, he blew me a kiss (mainly because I signed him 'thank you' after he gave me my water, and it SORTA looks like I blew him a kiss, but when I went back for a refill, he blew me one...and that's the only part of the story that matters ;)).  It could have been PERFECT.  w00t.

I fell in love with conferences.  My group did soooo well, and we had a big turn out considering that in the 2 other sessions, there were some big name people.  I also got over my fear of public speaking just enough to participate in discussions in 2 of the different break outs (there were only 4, ours included and I HAD to speak at that one!).  I thought what I was saying was really obvious, but apparently, it wasn't.  Bree made a huge deal out of it.  She said she was proud of me.  That means a lot.  I think it was good that I shared.  I don't know if I'll ever be comfortable fully talking in a group like that, but I think I'm slowly starting to trust myself more.  To believe that I'm not an idiot who has nothing of substance to say.  During Edwin's NYCoRE presentation about the Camouflagged book, I was able to point something out I noticed, and it started this long conversation, and I got really happy that it started from something I said.  I generated it.  I know not EVERYTHING I say is going to be that good, or cause that much talk, but this did.  Even though I don't think I did that much for my actual presentation, I did help.  I WAS part of this.

I feel it necessary to write about the semi-breakdown I just had about an hour and a half ago, mainly because I want to write about why I'm bounced-back from it.

I had a CIP meeting tonight.  CIP is the Critical Inquiry Project, a group designed to help teach social-justice education.  This group is comprised of a favorite professor of mine, Bree, and 5 other people who I graduated NYU with:  Dan, Emily M (As I am Emily E in all conversations since we're both there), Val, Veronica, and Symone.  The first 4 I mentioned are first year teachers:  Dan and Em have 5th graders, Veronica is a K teacher in a Catholic school, and Val is sort of teaching a mix of pre-k and k at another Catholic school.  Symone had a semester at NYU to finish up but is now a pretty full-time sub at the pre-k center SHE went to all those years ago.  I am the only one who is not teaching; I am in a classroom (well, THREE classrooms/FOUR classrooms at THREE schools technically if I count my fun week with Seth's class) 5 days a week, but I am there as an observer, a student teacher, and a tutor.

CIP has been everything.  We hear how the classroom teachers (5) implement these amazing complex units (Val teaching her kids about poverty, Dan and his fair-trade chocolate, Veronica teaching her kids about gender) that aren't part of a typical curriculum, we plan how we can go next, we share resources, we learn from Bree who is infinitely wise and helpful and straightforward, and we support each other through tough times.  First year teaching is notorious for breaking people down, and I hate knowing that my friends are going through things like this, but they all agree going to CIP is helpful not just because it helps plan the SJE (social justice education) stuff or make them stick to it, but it's a gathering of 6 other people we respect and trust and know care about our well being.  Many times 'check-in' becomes a bitch-fest, a spot to talk about what's wrong, a chance for all of us to offer a hug, a tissue, or a suggestion.  Sometimes it's just the only place we feel safe admitting certain things, and don't need anything more than the chance to say whatever it is we're thinking.

Tonight, Bree gave us an article about the stages first year teachers go through, and she asked us to read it, see if it was true, and how the group affected (effected? will I EVER learn when to use which?) these figures.   Well, everything about this article rang true for me, even though I am not a first  year teacher (see above).  The anxiety, both good and bad, the fears, the doubts in my ability, the impending pressure, the hard moments, the changes in or deviations from the plan...these are all things that make my heart freeze up.  I am a worrier.  I do fret about things that aren't a big deal (like the time I let it slip to David that GPI had left?  I didn't sleep that weekend, and it was never addressed ONCE), but they are real fears of mine.  This has been a dream of mine for so long, but you can dream all you want, it doesn't mean it will come TRUE.  I don'yt want to just be in a classroom.  I'm idealistic; I want to make a difference.  I want my kids to actually get things...more than just math or how to write an essay.  That's what CIP is.  But then I get so frazzled because I know I'm a pushover and if an administrator questions me and my planning, I AM going to take it to heart, I am going to redo everything, I am going to comply, and I'm not going to embody what the group is...and if I don't teach SJE my first year, will I the second?  Will I ever?

All of this pressure, the whole being sick thing, the fact that Relay is SATURDAY, the fact that I don't have a job lined up, the fact that I have huge final projects looming (one is due MONDAY AFTER RELAY) that I have no idea where I'm going with, the fact that CIP's trip to Chicago I won't be at 2 meetings leading up to it and also as a non-teacher contribute so little to it as it is... I just started crying.

This is not new.  I am a cryer.  I have been a cryer my whole life; NEVER for attention like 'oh if I cry, someone will look at me', or to get out of trouble.  It's just what happens.  There is something in my body where things, happy, sad, depressing, stressful, hilarious, sentimental.... I feel them stronger than other people, or different, or whatever it is, but I start welling up.  And I was trying to not make it obvious (this was just eye-leakage and a little need to wipe my  nose, no noise) because I didn't want to focus on that, but Bree kept asking if I was okay and I nodded.  But we finally shifted the attention to it, and I cried more, and let the group know my fear; that I'm going to cave to the administration and do my kids a huge disservice in the process, as well as let my groupmates down.

And they were amazing.  I knew they would be.  To start, if they weren't in my top 5 people when we graduated (the way I hung out with Val all the time, or had my strange but perfect relationship with Dan), I have grown closer to the people in this group than other people a  year ago who I don't get to see now.  They pointed out that things I was feeling, thinking...they're universal.  And Dan had things to say about me carrying him through undergrad, and my scheduling, and Val mentioned my classroom plans which Em said was a good thing to have planned already, and Bree mentioned that when she went to Dan's class the day after I was there, the kids were like 'oh, you're not Emily'...and while I don't think that's all going to prove I'm going to be good at this (what it proves is I focus on details too much and that kids LIKE me, a fact I've known since I was 5), but hearing that these very capable, very honest people believe in me...it means a lot.  It really does.  Even if they were just being nice and trying to calm me down (they've all dealt with crying Emily of various stages/reasons), they did it.  They were the best support group anyone could ever ask for.  And that's probably why CIP is so critical for us; not just instruction (which I will need a LOT of next year), but people like Val to tease me, Bree to somehow make what I was warbling an intelligent, justifiable thing, Dan to give me a hug and threaten that if I cry again he'll kill me, and someone to squeeze my hand and let me know I'll be okay.

So I'll be okay.