MY WHOLE SUMMER IN ONE POST.

So, I've always liked to blog. When I went abroad it thrilled me to share all my ridiculous stories with people.

I figured, "Hey, I'm moving to Texas. I don't know anyone. I'm going to teach kids. I have no money. I could write an awesome blog."

Well I'm sure this is true, but I did not think about the whole time aspect. Oh time, you've always been so good to me, but now you're just not there for me anymore. I don't understand where you've run off to. Really, where has time gone? It's August. August. I should be thinking about going back to school. Oh, but I am. I am thinking about going back to school, but for an entirely different reason than I ever though imaginable. I'm going to school to teach. This is not to say that I'm done learning though. I have a lot to learn. I need to learn how to teach so I can teach kids how to learn.

It's crazy if you think about it. Seriously, crazy. I studied advertising at the University of Illinois for four years and now, somehow, somewhere, someone decided I was qualified to teach 6th grade science. Ha. Not only that, but this certain someone also decided that I would teach 6th grade math for the summer to prepare me to teach 6th grade science. Ha. Ha.

Deady Middle School, home of the hornets. Along with about 50 other corp members I'd take the bus to the south-east of Houston to Mighty Deady everyday.

I spent this summer teaching 6th grade math to 11-15 year olds. I also spent this summer teaching a 22 year-old 6th grade math in order to ATTEMPT to teach it to children.

On a pre-assessment that my students took at the beginning of the summer they scored a whopping 34%* on average. (*Note this is skewed because of outliers... the kid who refused to take it who received a 0%, but also the highest grade which was a 63%.) I knew this experience was going to be tough but I did not realize the extent.

I walked into my first day of teaching with a big smile on my face. Mistake #1.
I told them how excited I was to be teaching them math. Mistake #2.
I nervously laughed when they made jokes, especially when they were about me. Mistake #3.
I proceeded to explain the rules of my classroom by talking over them as they broke all the rules. Mistake #4.
I took it all personally. Mistake #5

I walked out of that classroom as fast as I could and the moment I turned the corner out of the student hallway, I burst into tears. I was with them for 90 minutes, and thus far I had accomplished nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, I did learn that one of my students thought I had a nice ass.

Millions of questions rattled through my mind. How am I going to help them? Why won't they listen? Am I doing something wrong? What the heck am I going to do tomorrow?

I didn't have any answers. When we got back to Rice there was a huge party for us. Everyone was smiling, laughing, telling their friends about how awesome their class was, and I began to think I had already failed. There were giant pieces of paper for us to write about our first day at this party. People wrote "My kids rocked!" "Today was the best day ever" "I'm an awesome teacher" "They were so excited to learn."

I wrote: "Tomorrow will be better."


Trying to explain to someone out of the TFA bubble the amount of work that went into every single day of institute is a lost cause. Lesson Planning. Two words that I never in a million years thought would make my life so miserable. I worked 20-22 hour days. I ate and worked. Very healthy I must say. I probably gained 15 pounds and shed 5 of those lbs through tears. I have never thought of myself as a crier, but if you went through institute and didn't cry once you were either high on drugs, completely and utterly awesome beyond awesomeness, or had a disease that affected your tear ducts. And to think I always believed I was completely and utterly awesome beyond awesomeness.

Frustration and sleeplessness were my biggest enemies. Not the kids. The kids were awesome. I mean, they were terrors, but somewhere in them I knew they were good kids. They've been failed by the system. Failed by their teachers year after year. How are they to blame for their behavior, if it has always just been expected of them? I had the "bad class," everyone knew it. My mentor teacher would just say "ohhhh, they're just bad kids, you'll be fine in the fall" some mentoring that was. I did like to think that if I could make it through the summer I would have an easier time. But then the phone call came. The phone call that changed my life. (I will get to that phone call I promise but my hiring process must be explained first!)

I had 9 interviews before I was hired. Most people had 1, some had 2 or 3, I had 9. With that came 8 rejection letters. I was barely batting 100, I mean come on, I'm a 300 hitter! I thought with all my heart that I nailed every single interview. That I was perfect for that school, in that job coaching that sport. One school even asked if I would head up the PR department because of my degree in advertising. This same school needed a girls soccer coach. Each time I'd be so excited to teach at that school. I'd talk about it like it was my school. Then that letter would come in my mail box. After the 2nd or third I could see it from a mile away. "Hello Caroline! We have spoken with __________ (Hogg/Dowling/Marshall/Revere/Hartman/Key/Jackson/Fondrin) and unfortunately the __________ (math/science/social studies/reading) position has been filled."

The part that got me every time was the exclamation point in the greeting.

So, on top of the lesson planning, the sleepless nights, and the terrorizing by my students, I was being rejected on a regular basis. Ouch. I must have been doing something wrong, my interview skills? I had no clue. I talked to my recruiter in order to maybe figure out what I could change and she said that all of the feedback from the principals had been positive, it was just "not going my way." Awesome.

Side bar ** I keep coming back to this analogy about playing soccer growing up when I think of my experience with job hunting and TFA. You were probably always the best player on your AYSO team, I'm talking MVP and captain, but when you made the move to travel soccer you were lucky if you even started. I feel less intelligent being around all the super intelligent people.**

Here comes the phone call story...

The day before I was going back to Chicago for the weekend, I was shopping at the dollar store with my roommate Maria. I got a call from a 312 numbers so of course I thought it was my Dad at work. Wrongo. It was a recruiter who was wondering if I was still in town and if I was could I make it to an interview in 1 hour. Uh, sure. What's the position- "6th grade science" (eh, okay that's fine, I wanted math, but science is the next best thing.) Where's the school- "South-east Houston" What's it called- "Deady Middle School"
You've got to be sh*tting me.

When I hung up and told Maria she asked me how I felt about it. At first I didn't really know, I basically didn't have any words, but then I realized how scared I was. We rushed home, I quickly changed and I made the trek over to Deady. It was the principals 2nd day and he needed to hire someone. The interview went well, at least I thought. We talked about football mostly. He was super nice and energetic, it almost made me forget that I was sitting in the same building that gave me hell for 5 weeks. At the end he said he would make a decision by Friday.

Yeah, so, I'm working at Deady if you haven't guessed it. I was woken up to Mr. Alvarez' call at 8am on Thursday. The good news is most of my students are going to be in 7th grade so they will not be in my class. But there are 2 who may grace me with their presence because they were retained due to bad behavior. Seems like I'm getting another chance.

My apologizes for my randomness, lack of flow, and probably overall horrible narrative.

Tomorrow will be better :)