Hello dorms, shower shoes, community bathrooms and cafeteria. It has been five years since we have seen each other, and I have to say I have not missed you at all.
Today marks the end of my first week here at Teach For America Chicago Institute. Let me say the experience started off with a bang. Last Sunday I was running through the Nashville airport in my socks trying to catch a flight to Chicago. Thankfully I made it, but sadly one of my bags did not. I have since gotten the bag back and put on my shoes.
Since my first moment on campus here in Chicago, Teach For America (TFA for short) staff has told us we would experience a range of emotions. On Monday morning we woke up with handwritten notes slid under our doors reminding us again the emotions were coming. I actually found it a little unnerving, it can make a girl anxious knowing that some new emotion is barreling down the tracks towards her.
Day One started out fairly eventful but surprisingly even keel. All the corps members (people like myself in training) got to stand in line to make our lunches which we carry around in our fabulous blue TFA lunch boxes. We then got to file onto a Chicago school bus to be shipped to our school site (where we will spend the summer teaching credit recovery). Lucky for my blog, we were actually delivered to the wrong school where we spent 20 minutes with a go-with-the-flow elementary school principal who graciously gave us a tour before finding out we were high school teachers.
We eventually made it to the real Hope High School where we were formally introduced to our amazing staff and our three-inch instructional guide fondly referred to as “Biggie”.
It has honestly been a blur since then. The days are long, the instruction is intense and emotions are no joke. We are constantly reminded of how important our work is, but unfortunately with little to no personal knowledge we are also constantly reminded of how clueless we really are. It is definitely a work in progress but even after only one week I can see remarkable changes in the way I plan, the way I think about planning and my theory on learning.
My emotions have hit every point on the scale- frustrated, inspired, angry, helpless, hopeless and exhausted, but ultimately everything keeps coming back to one thing- Purpose. I made the decision to leave broadcast journalism for a reason. I made the decision to move several states away, and submit myself to what I am calling the “summer camp from hell” for a reason, and for me it really does boil down that easily.
Tomorrow is my first day in the classroom teaching roughly 15 kids how to predict the events of a short story. It will be the first time I formally meet these students but their diagnostic scores proceed them. I knew the TFA mission was critical but until a high school English teacher tells you some of his students can’t read you don’t understand how urgent your job is.
So tomorrow I officially become Ms. Ball (it is even on my name tag). I have a clipboard, handouts and a lesson plan. I haven’t been this excited in a while, but it isn’t without serious concern that I am going fail these kids who have slipped through so many cracks before.
