Do you remember your first roller coaster ride? After seemingly hours of waiting in line you rush to the front row seat where you've heard it's the best. Everyone waits as the other cart makes its round and talks about the upcoming ride, and you-the rookie-cannot help but feel the nerves kicking in. The cart starts moving after minutes of anticipation and the moment has finally come. In front of you now is nothing but a long and drawn out climb with an angle so steep you feel your feet dangling behind you. Every clank you hear as you rise elevates your heart rate to the point where you can't even sit still. You're approaching the climax when suddenly it seems like time slows down. You hit the peak and for one instant, time freezes. You take a split second to look all directions and see the beauty of the horizon for miles.
Finally, the hardest part of the ride.
For the past 22 years of my life, I have been a student. I was always the kid in the center or towards the back of the classroom outside of the "Miss"'s proximity, waiting for those precious moments when the teacher would turn his or her back towards the chalkboard to shoot spit balls at my friends. I was the average high school student texting during class while casually listening to the teacher lecture just to convince myself that I was making the most of my time between 8:30am and 3:15pm. School to me used to be the chunk of my day I worked hard at partially because I was genuinely engaged in what was taught, but also for the time I counted down until I could to play sports and spend with friends.
Now I'm days away from beginning my training at the Delta Institute for Teach For America and reality is setting in. Just two months ago, I was sitting in a desk endlessly jotting down notes as the professor lectured and sparked critical thinking and engaged discussions. Now, I'll the one standing at the front of the class. My final year of college at Boston University, I lived in a fraternity house (Chi Phi), where I walked home every night exhausted from studying and where I left the next morning exhausted because of the night before. Now, I'm the disciplinarian.
In just two months, I'm going to be responsible for the development of a classroom of children I have never seen in my life. A room full of young minds who can smell fear. The students that TFA corps members teach are primarily two to three years behind the national average and attend schools within low-income city districts. As an elementary special education teacher, I will have this challenge paired up with various behavioral and learning disabilities. So as far as I know, I could have a third grader with chronic misconduct, frequent absences, and the reading ability of a kindergartner, AND, am expected to bring that student up to national expectations, if not exceed that by the end of the school year.
Did I mention I've never taught a classroom of children before? The closest I came to that was babysitting my cousins a few times. To this day, I still don't even abide by the five-second rule (with valid reason of course). Now all I can think about is Arnold Schwarzenegger with a roaring scream as a he runs away in fright from a mob of five-year-olds in Kindergarten Cop.
When people ask what I'll be doing, I casually talk about Teach For America and the upcoming next two years in Baton Rouge, but I have yet to really open up about how I feel about all this. Honestly, this rapid transition is overwhelming. I am nervous and flat out scared. There has never been a situation that I couldn't handle, but this is my toughest test yet. Since that momentous day I received my acceptance letter into Teach For America, I have without doubt been excited about this opportunity. But going from 22-year student to elementary teacher in a span of three months can make any Goliath wail uncontrollably.
During my time at Boston University, the most valuable lesson gained was the vitality of education and knowledge. In comparison to the education system in Texas, Boston by far outweighs the Lone Star State. Sure Texas will always represent the mecca of football and athleticism, but had I been raised in an environment closely focused on academia, had I known the incredible potential one can hatch from learning, life could be different now. Perhaps it could be better.
I was blessed to have parents who have persevered to give me everything I needed and pushed me to excel in all areas of life. I've been spoiled with a healthy upbringing, which is why we should show the next generation their own potential. The name of the organization accurately reflects what it is achieving. It is not one classroom of kids. We are in fact teaching FOR America. My parents have demonstrated hard work in providing for our family, and they'll always be role models going forward. But in order for others to join this American mission, someone has to step up and pass on the torch. And when more people start to notice, I think more lives can be changed.
But before all that, I still have to get past the first big drop.
