The most ridiculous thing I have ever witnessed...

I know what you're thinking: blogging at 1:30 in the afternoon? Miss McCallie, you must be breaking the rules! Rest assured that I am back in the comfort of my room and no, I'm not playing hooky. I just wanted to give you all a shockingly hilarious picture of what the mentality is right now.

A week ago Friday (i.e. at the end of our first week of teaching), our elementary school got the terrific news that our bus would be leaving at 6:50 instead of 6:15. I never thought I would see a group of people happier than we all were that day. Boy, was I wrong.

According to our calendar, our first afternoon session today was called "Creating a Welcoming Environment." Great. We're two weeks into this thing, and NOW you're going to teach us how to welcome the students? There was much grumbling in the halls. We file into the *freezing* cold auditorium and are greeted with a "Do Now"--usually a moment for reflection or discussion in partners or groups. The question for today: "What does TFA mean to you?" We're all feeling like we've answered this question a few times, so there's a bit of eye rolling. Nevertheless, we all turn to each other and start to "discuss." Snark abounds.* A few people are asked to share, and we get some standard responses. "TFA means being a catalyst for change." "TFA means hard work." etc. etc. Our facilitator nods her head. Good work, good work. "Well," she says, "to us, TFA means Totally. Free. Afternoon."

The place erupts. It was like Oprah's Favorite Things episode: "EVERYONE IN HERE IS GETTING A NEW CAR!" I'm pretty sure our decibel level rivaled a jet engine at 100', or at least a Pneumatic Riveter at 4'... No joke, people were crying at the thought of having four "free" hours this afternoon. Obviously, it's awesome, and I'm *so* happy to be sitting here instead of in a session. I just got such a kick out of the overall reaction. The look on some people's faces was like, "The birth of my first child will not rival the happiness I feel at this moment." It's like that scene in Shawshank where they get to have a beer on the roof after they've re-tarred it. Never you mind that we soon will have to go back into prison--for now, there is elation. Thank you, TFA!!!

*Snark Abounds: good name for a band? Better or worse than The Pneumatic Riveters?

Letters Unlikely to be Answered

Dear You-Know-Who (not Voldemort),

Please stop making me go to these reflection sessions. Life can be challenging--I am aware.

***

Dear Microsoft Word,

Please stop being completely useless when I need you most. I promise that it is not hard to let my text wrap around the picture. I promise!

***

Dear Steve Jobs,

Thank you for releasing a faster and cheaper iPhone. I would like to buy one now.

***

Dear Environment,

I would like to apologize in advance for consuming so many of your resources this summer. Please know that I will recycle as many of them as I can and perhaps make my students plant a tree...

All best,
--Anna

In the Beginning...

I felt like a teacher for the first time today. Yes, I have yet to interact with the kids. Yes, the amount of things I need to learn is beyond staggering. Yes, I am so exhausted that I was kind of unaware I could feel anything... But despite all this, when I went to the Resource Room on campus today and checked out three books to start lesson planning, I really felt like a teacher. Was it amazing? Sort of. I'm too cynical to be truly moved by all the super-duper feelings that run rampant here at Institute, which may or may not be to my detriment. But it was cool nonetheless.

Let me back up. I realize I've done a shoddy job of keeping everyone informed on the specifics of what I'm doing this summer. Institute is Teach for America's massive teacher boot camp. For five weeks, future Corps Members from Atlanta, Charlotte (that's me!), Memphis, Jacksonville, Eastern North Carolina, and Miami-Dade descend on the Georgia Tech campus in the heart of Atlanta and work absolutely grueling hours in the aim of helping to close the nation's achievement gap. The official TFA literature puts the purpose/mission into much better words than I can, so I encourage you to do a bit of Googling if you're so inspired...

Anyway, at Institute this summer, we not only learn, we teach. I found out yesterday I'll be teaching 5th grade reading at an Atlanta summer school starting on Monday. The nuances of what exactly I'll be teaching are still a bit murky, but I will have real, live students in my classroom, and I'll be the one they're looking to for inspiration and instruction. In a word: Yikes.

Because I want to give you the most accurate picture (and because I want you to feel sorry for me), here is a typical daily schedule for this first week:

• 5:30 am (yes, ante meridian): Wake up. The only times I have ever been awake this early include those rare nights when I just didn't sleep at all and the occasional morning flight. Do I have the willpower to drag myself out of bed before the sun is up? Hardly. But if we miss the bus, we have to pay for our own cab to the school. Suffice it to say that my stinginess just barely edges out my tiredness. For now, at least. Let it also be known that 5:30 is cutting it really close (duh), and many people are waking up at 5 am or earlier. Ouch.

• 5:45 am: Eat breakfast. Why, yes, I *do* get ready in fifteen minutes. I have finally learned the importance of preparing for the morning before I go to bed. This might be because I am not coherent enough at 5:30 am to pick out an outfit, let alone pack up my materials.

• 6:15 am: Load the bus. Don't even get me started on this. The bus has yet to leave before 6:30, though we've been told time and time again that the doors will mercilessly shut on any and everyone at 6:15 sharp.

• 7 am (ish): Arrive at school. It's a beautiful building, though perhaps more structurally complicated than that Escher-esque room at the end of Labyrinth.

• 7:15 am - 4:30 pm: Work. It's nearly bedtime now and these nine hours deserve a proper unpacking, so I'm going to fudge this section a little bit. If I ever find the motivation to update this blog, you better believe I'll detail what's going on during this time. As a brief summary, we're spending time learning about TFA's mission and how best to implement it in the schools this summer and fall. We get time to plan our lessons and all that, which is great, but there are severe flaws in the system. I spent a good 40 minutes today detailing said flaws in an email to the School Director that might never get sent, but we'll see. They're working hard and they're working us hard, and I just want to make sure our limited time is being spent well. Is that too much to ask? Who knows...

• 4:30 pm - 5:45 pm: Travel back to school and eat dinner. Not much to say here except that the Georgia Tech Dining Staff know how to make a mean pasta salad.

• 5:45 pm - 11 pm: There are usually some sessions in the evening. Today we had Opening Ceremonies and Wendy Kopp (the Founder and CEO) came to speak. I'd seen her speak at Harvard and she's always inspiring, but at the same time, I kind of wished I had been napping. But at this point in my life, I kind of always wish I were napping. No offense, Wendy! As the weeks progress and we get into actual teaching, I assume we'll burn the midnight oil doing lesson plans. The good news is that we're working in groups for a lot of it. The bad news is that none of us have ever planned a lesson before, so we're about as clueless as Cher Horowitz herself (to the old-timers reading this, many apologies for the thoroughly Gen X reference--or am I Gen Y? No one ever taught me this).
  

• 11 pm - 5:30 am (for now): Sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat.

That's all I have time and energy for now. I need to skim these lovely tomes I've just picked up (including The Twits by Roald Dahl!) and--most importantly--I need to go to sleep.

If you're reading this, you're probably someone I love and miss very much. If I don't know you, you're kind of a creeper, but welcome nonetheless. To those of you who are postally inclined, please email me and I will send you my address here so you can send me lots of letters and pictures and all that good stuff.

For now, Miss McCallie out.