In the wake of my Fulbright experience…
Life is not a linear thing. Upon departing from Indonesia last June, I knew that the preceding year would be a tough act to follow. I also knew it would be tough.
Through June, I struggled to find a job, then wrote grad school papers at night as I explored the Tetons and Yellowstone with my dad and my close friend Justin Robertson.
July found me polishing off my Masters thesis in Columbia, MO, St. Louis, MO, Troy, IL, and NYC, NY. I felt the transition from traveler to teacher as I drove from Kentucky to NYC with Ken Moore, a friend who I know will play an important role in my life.
By mid-August, it was on. Bronx Prep’s school year began, and a group of 7th and 8th graders humbled me. Fulbright? Teach For America? If you are really a part of the struggle, you’ll struggle regardless of your accolades. And I did struggle to become a middle school ESL teacher. Without the help of people like Elaine Alkhas, Jenna Morvay, and Daniel Reynolds (this list goes on!), I’m sure I’d still be struggling.
September brought with it three-hour-long night classes every Tuesday and Thursday. Coupled with teaching middle school, it’s a wonder how I made this work. And when I consider that I was also fasting for Ramadan (see previous note), I am amazed by my own ability to endure.
I defended my Masters thesis in October. Not that I had time to appreciate it, but there was a feeling of relief. This had hung over my head since I finished my coursework in 2006. Teach For America and Fulbright were justifiable reasons for putting the defense off, but the unfinished does often tease me. I am proud to finally have a Masters degree.
November ushered in a cold my Indo bones weren’t prepared for. I think I’d been wearing thermal underwear since October. The cold set a scene for a rough month of teaching, as one of my students got expelled and I slipped into a general state of depression.
Release would come in December, as fields trips to the Big Top Circus and Radio City Music Hall helped me get to know my students. Sometimes I forget how important it is to really know the people around you. I refocused on this, trying to appreciate the people around me. This culminated in an anchoring trip back to my stomping grounds to spend Christmas with the various fragments of my family. I always feel like I am more myself after being home.
By January, I was starting to see my classes turn around. For better or worse, one of the biggest influencers of my emotional state is how I reflect on my classroom. I teach kids who are owed more than I could ever give them, but knowing the advantages I’ve had, I give all I can. As I only had to take one class this semester, I had more to give. As my class cultures improved, so did my mood. As Chali Tuna of Jurassic 5 says, “the most you can spend on any child is time.”
But staying happy will never be a strong point for me. A menacing February brought two snow days, and also my mood down. The monotony of teaching and night class and sleeping started to run together. A trip to Boston to see Charita Gainey, Chike Aguh and Ken Moore helped a little, but made clear to me that I was going to need to break the pattern more often.
I marched into March, thus. I hyperplanned for my classes, differentiating each into literature circles, reading each of the books they chose, and writing multiple choice tests for every one of them. I looked for ways to spend more one-on-one time with my kids. And as the month closed, I attended the Fulbright enrichment seminar, which will be the focus of my next post. Spring break will carry this month to its close, and will deliver unto me quietude and an opportunity to reflect. I’ll write this, and shrug off how much I’ve left out. I’ll beg off any sense of anxiety that might come from waiting to hear back about the fellowship for which I’ve applied. I’ll prepare to travel off to Chicago to spend time with Angad Nagra. And I’ll put off the writing of the only paper I have left to write in order to obtain my second Masters degree just a little bit longer…
