Hostility

I apologize for the delay in my updates. According to my site meter, I have more fingers than viewers so far, so I didn't think anyone would care much if I let it slide for a bit. :) Obviously, I was wrong. This crazed 'Nitin' character seems to be just dyyyying to know what's going on in my TFA saga.

Which brings me to my reason for not posting. Nothing is really happening. I have to submit a résumé so TFA can distribute it to principals. I'll submit it today or tomorrow, after I add some finishing touches. (Like the $12,000 grant I just won for the Literacy Through Photography program!!! YEAH!!!!)

In June and August, I will take two four-hour exams that tell the the NYC Dept. of Ed whether I'm competant enough to teach. I've heard people joke before about these exams being ridiculously easy. But I've also read the NYCTF message boards where fellows have posted, saying that they're fairly difficult. I've developed an intense math phobia over the last 5 years, so I anticipate that at least PART of these exams will be tough for me. Hopefully, I can adequately prepare myself over the next month and a half.

I also need to get re-immunized (ie. SHOTS- another phobia, but not quite as daunting as numbers).

Other than that, there's just a lot of waiting. Waiting for the week-long regional induction in June, waiting for training to start the following week, waiting to hear from principals. And, in the meantime, trying to figure out what I'll do with my (not so) valuable belongings for the month that I'm training in Philly, but still wondering where in NYC I'll be assigned. I'm not that worried about it yet. I'll figure something out.

On a much more exciting note, I'm stalking up on BOOOOKS!!! The non-profit I work at is having its annual used book sale, and we're allowed to take a bunch for ourselves. So I've gathered some of my favorite titles from my youth to build up a classroom library. :)

VERY IMPORTANT REQUEST: Middle school-level books tend to be very divided between 'boy books' and 'girl books.' I've got the girl books covered, but I'm having a hard time picking out good boy books. PLEASE OFFER SUGGESTIONS IF YOU HAVE ANY! Guys, what books did you enjoy in middle school? (or late elementary school because my students will most likely be a bit behind). And girls with any knowledge on the matter, (Jennifer, Caryn, Alyssa...), please comment or email me!

Also, since this blog is still in its infancy and doesn't have a following or 'voice' yet, I reserve the right to post about whatever I want. (Maybe or maybe not education or TFA-related.) I might occassionally decide to post about random thoughts or observations. Just an FYI.

Thank you for your time.
(and a special thank you to CHAD, for his positive, non-harassing comments and his patience. What a kind, supportive individual! :)

Researching and deciding

I started the application process with nerves of steel, picturing myself taking on all of the challenges that I knew would exist wherever I taught. Upon getting accepted to both, those visions quickly faded and self-questioning took over. Can I handle a middle school classroom? Are these kids going to chew me up and spit me out? What kind of special ed kids are we talking about here? When are they going to tell me what age I’ve been assigned to? What part of NYC am I in? What would a typical day look like? How much would my masters cost in each program? Who would offer better support?

As I set out to get my questions answered, TFA truly stepped up to the plate. The NYCTF email and phone admissions folks were markedly less knowledgeable and slower to get back to me. I was given contradictory advice by two different admissions reps about whether to turn in my commitment form, resulting in a long delay of my region placement. Since my April 6^th acceptance, it is STILL not posted what age or region I will work with. A phone rep told me District 75 today. It’s made up of entirely special ed schools (no gen. ed. classrooms) that house students with severe disabilities, emotional disturbances and behavioral disorders. Still no verdict on what age I’d work with. I told the woman I spoke with that tomorrow was the last day I could register for the my necessary tests. I needed to know which to register for, based on what I’d be teaching. I can’t make that decision without knowing where and who I’m teaching. She shrugged my dilemma off with ease. I asked if I could be put in touch with a current D75 NYCTF fellow. “Ummm…. I don’t think so. You can register for your spring visit though.” Worthless. Those don’t take place for another month or so. I want input NOW, BEFORE making a decision.

Contrast that to TFA. The man who interviewed me left me a voicemail the DAY I was accepted into the program, congratulating me and telling me how excited he was about the prospect of me having my own classroom, how he enjoyed meeting me, saw a lot of potential, etc. Suddenly all of that ‘feel good crap’ was feeling pretty good. Then I got a call from a NYC TFA rep, asking if I had any questions. I fired away for about 45 minutes with questions. She answered them all easily and had people contact me the next day with the few that she was not able to field. As much as I hate all the TFA rhetoric about joining ‘the movement’ and saving the world, I have to say that they are incredibly put together and seemingly well-run. That goes a long way when you’re uprooting your life to attempt teaching in a low-income school. You want a solid program that has your back and is there to answer your questions. I can deal with cheesy slogans and warm fuzziness if it’s going to get me into a classroom and give me a shot at pursuing something I’m really passionate about while providing me with a reliable support network.

The ‘tough shit, you’re on your own’ vibe I got from NYCTF since my acceptance has been very off-putting. And, I think, unfortunate. There’s a huge shortage of special ed teachers, and I was very seriously considering giving it my all. But I’m not going to dive into such a challenging endeavor before knowing whether I’ll be able to rely on support from the program that gets me there. If they’d been willing to work with me, put me in touch with someone to talk with about their special ed experiences in NYC, and tell me what age I’d be teaching so I could make an informed decision, they might have another special ed teacher putting a dent in the shortage. But until they get those kinks worked out, they’ll continue to lose people who feel unsupported and under-informed. I trust those things will happen in the coming years, but for now, I'm going with the seemingly more trustworthy, responsive, supportive program.

I sent my TFA commitment form in a couple days ago. Despite my distaste for their marketing materials. :)

The Results are IN!!!

I found out on April 6th that I got into NYCTF to teach special ed- no age given yet. I found out on April 14th that I got into TFA in NYC to teach secondary language arts.

TOUGH CALL.

I like words. A lot. Reading them. Writing them. And, presumably, teaching kids how to use them. I think I could have a lot of fun trying to get students engaged in an English class. Secondary ed though. I hadn't thought of that possibility before. I went into this whole application process, planning to become an elementary teacher. But language arts... very tempting.

I have worked with elementary special needs students in the past. In a very limited capacity, but I loved it. I found it fun, fulfilling, interesting, challenging. But I discovered after my acceptance into NYCTF that it would be a three-year commitment, not two, as I had originally thought. Cold feet. Can I really commit to something that I know SO little about and have such limited experience with? Could a mere seven weeks of training prepare me for NYC’s special ed students? Especially when I know that a lot of under-resourced schools funnel their behavior problem students into special ed just to get them out of the general ed classrooms?

Then the emotional meltdown… Do I want to commit to two or three years in NYC when my boyfriend is thinking about going to grad school in Boston for another three years? One year of a distance relationship under our belts. Am I up for three more? Anxious. Indecisive. Emotional.

Relationship issues follow that winning mix. NOT helping.

Interview #2: TFA Interview Day

A couple weeks after my New York City Teaching Fellows “interview event,” I also interviewed with Teach for America. Crazy differences. TFA was so starry-eyed, feel good, and fluffy. I walked away with a bad taste, certain I would pursue NYCTF instead, if given the choice.

The interview format was the same, but the questions asked and scenarios posed seemed so far removed from any reality we might face in the classroom. They asked us to analyze a proposed educational policy for a fictional congresswoman for the writing sample. The small group discussion was all theory. We discussed what indicators we thought most impacted student performance. It’s a great topic for any potential teacher to be thinking about, but the question didn’t seem like one that could lend many insights into how much teaching potential someone had. It was very academic and I thought disconnected from what they should have been looking for. I liked the way NYCTF tried to get at how each candidate might work with difficult parents, challenging administrators, and behavior problem or academically lagging students. Having or not having those skills will determine one’s success as a teacher. Not their ability to analyze ed policy. Sure, both involve critical thinking and seeking the best possible approach, but NYCTF seemed to get at the heart of it more directly and effectively.

The TFA interviewers each offered lengthy, heart-warming success stories of their brief stints as TFA corps members, compared to the curt and blunt introductions of the NYCTF interviewers. Everyone in the TFA room wore a half smile as they imagined themselves touching the lives of each student they encountered. I sensed more urgency, seriousness and maybe even some fear in the NYCTF interview room. It felt very real. The highlight of the TFA day though, I have to admit, was getting the opportunity to feel like an individual during the one-on-one interview. It wasn’t rushed, and my interviewer asked very pointed, personalized questions that really tested how well I could think on my toes. He tripped me up a couple times, and I appreciated that.

The after-interview survey asked “How inspiring were the marketing materials you received from TFA?” I wrote that I disliked them because they were too Dangerous Minds-esque and gave an unrealistic picture of what the job would entail.

Despite enjoying the one-on-one interview, I was very certain I wanted NYCTF more. I was drawn to the no-nonsense approach of its interviewers and their honest portrayal of the work its teachers would do.

More waiting....

New Kid

Ummm.... right. So, I'm pretty new to blogging. Exhibit A: my first post. Waaay too long and detailed. Mental note. I'll keep them shorter and sweeter from now on. My apologies to anyone who attempted to read that beast. But thank you for your interest. :)

Step One: NYCTF Interview Day

Sooo… The day I created this blog, I wrote this….

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I'm not a teacher yet, but I'm crossing my fingers that that will change by September. I interviewed yesterday with New York City Teaching Fellows, and I have an interview lined up for March 24 with Teach for America.

Yesterday's interview was- in a word-- bizzarre. I've never walked away from an interview feeling so clueless. In the past, I've gone home feeling like I nailed it or I blew it. But this time, I left wondering how the interviewers were possibly going to select their teachers based on that. The interview format left little to no room to shine. The day went as follows...

I arrived at the massive, beautiful Irving Washington High School in Manhattan embarrassingly early. So I strolled along to a small cafe a couple blocks away where I drank a mediocre-tasting smoothie. As I sipped away and mentally rehearsed my teaching sample for the bazillionth time, an excessively smiley group of waitstaff clustered in the corner and I think talked about me in Spanish. I would have talked about me too. I looked ridiculous. I walked in carrying a heavy, awkward bag filled with a binder full of education articles and lesson props, fumbled with it as I sat down, looked around nervously, and began frantically scribbling down notes about my leadership style, why I want to teach, etc.... anticipating the one-on-one interview questions. Forty-five minutes later, it was go-time. I put my game face on and strode confidently back to the school, ready to field any hard-hitting question they threw my way.

Two aloof security guards mumbled something about the elevator to the second (?) seventh (?) floor when I greeted them by eagerly announcing that I was there for the New York City Teaching Fellows interview. I chuckled at myself as I headed for the elevators, wondering why I expected the guards to give me any more enthusiasm than they had. They've probably seen thousands of faces exactly like mine... idealistic, eager, smiling, clueless. I boarded the old elevator with about five other candidates, asking each other if the guards said second or seventh. We decided on seventh and wandered into a hallway where a line of at least 15 other candidates had already formed. All were dead silent. We took our place at the back of the line, and I let my Minnesota nice take over as I struck up a conversation with the girl behind me.

She graduated with a religious studies BA. A year and a half ago I would have mentally noted the worthlessness of her degree, but I found myself envying her. She probably at least learned some incredibly interesting things about philosophy, history and world cultures. Earning my journalism degree was not only uninteresting, but it was also proving to be completely worthless since my decision not to pursue a career in advertising. I had learned very little, retained even less, and I was kicking myself for attempting to choose a ‘practical’ major, as opposed to an interesting one.

I finally made it to the front of the line where a young, uncertain-looking man informed me that I would be in group I. (I was later informed that he was a student at one of the high schools where teaching fellows were placed.) I proceeded to my assigned room, where I sparked conversations with the other candidates. Of the six people in my interview group, maaaybe three seemed certain of their desire to be there. The others remarked that they thought teaching might be kinda fun or shrugged as they revealed that they really didn’t know what they wanted to do, but that they just hated their current jobs.

Enter interviewers. Two women walked briskly into the room, each eying their watches. The one in the glasses began. “Alright. My name’s (can’t remember). I’ve been teaching in New York City public schools for 12 years. I love my job, but it’s hard work, and you shouldn’t be here if you aren’t going to work your ass off.” Done. The red head with all the curls chimed in, “I’m (can’t remember). I taught for a few years. Now I work with the Dept. of Ed, and I’ll be supporting the fellows this year.” Done. They burped out a few instructions about how the lesson plan portion of the interview would be run and took their seats in the back of the room with their clipboards, pens and stopwatches.

Each person delivered their five-minute sample teaching lessons. Some more effectively than others. I taught onomatopoeia, and I thought I did fairly well. Though it was impossible to gauge any sort of reaction from my interviewers because neither of them looked up from their papers and racing pens throughout the entire five minutes. “Come on! I’m tipping over chairs, pouring water, and blowing up balloons up here! Can I get some eye contact, please?” I cursed the missed opportunity to stick out and hoped deep down that they were writing rave reviews of my creative approach to the lesson.

Onto the discussion portion. We were split into two groups made up of three candidates and one interviewer. The interviewer gave us the scenario of being a teacher who just found out about a high-stakes test her class needed to pass, followed by comments made to her by 1) another teacher, 2) a principal and 3) a parent, regarding the upcoming testing. I liked the question. It felt realistic and applicable. The discussion that ensued was kind of lame because the three of us took turns spewing forced pleasantries like, “Yes, I really like the point you made about x… and I’d like to build on it by also highlighting y…” It was fine, but definitely the most unnatural conversation I’ve ever had, and I again felt like there was no room to stand out because we just kept agreeing with each other and “building.” The interviewer stayed silent and continued to frantically write out our every word.

Next the writing sample. We were given 20 minutes to write a letter to the parents of our imaginary students, given the scenario that those students had widely varying ability levels and some of their parents had called our principal, upset that the students’ test scores weren’t improving. Again, great question, I thought. A very conceivable situation.

It was finally time for the one-on-one interview, and I was reeeeallly eager to demonstrate how right I was for the job. I had done so much research, brainstormed so many potential questions and solid responses, and I had always prided myself on my ability to connect with and charm my interviewer. I walked in, took my seat, and she began with the questions. “Can you tell me about the approach you took in your writing sample?” Sweet. I had a lot to say about that, so I was feeling good. But again, the woman refused to look up from her paper, as she wrote out my every word. She followed with several questions that felt kind of ‘off,’ but I wasn’t entirely sure. Then, ten minutes into the 20-minute interview, she asked, “Can you tell me more about your experience as a physical education teacher?” WHAT?! I’ve never taught phys ed. She had the wrong file. She’d read someone else’s writing sample, was reading someone else’s résumé and was asking me someone else’s questions. I offered her a few minutes alone to read through my materials, but she declined and proceeded to ask me a series of generic questions. Again, my chance to shine was BLOWN! Frustrated, I attempted to salvage what remained of the factory interview before heading out into the hallway, where I chatted with a few other candidates.

I came to realize throughout the day that I learned more about urban education at my non-profit job this year than I had realized. Most of the people I talked to seemed wholly unaware of what went on in low-income schools. …Unresponsive administrators, the pressures of high stakes testing, the challenge of unsupportive parents, the ever-looming mystery that is classroom management. This was called to my attention through comments made by fellow interviewees like, “But these are children who need to learn in school! Why wouldn’t an administration be supportive?” Huh?! I mean, I didn’t want to be full of myself, but I definitely felt at that moment like I might be more ready for this than I’d given myself credit for. If nothing else, at least I’ve got a leg up on those who had clearly never worked with an inner city school. Having an idea of what to expect would be a step in the right direction.

I’m just crossing my fingers that I somehow left a favorable impression through that impersonal mass interview. Now the waiting….