"It's good to be hard"

Why does one move from Portland, Oregon to a place like Boston, Massachusetts? Maybe you like the Red Sox. Maybe you're really crazy about deep snow drifts and humidity that turns your face into a pizza. Maybe you've always wanted to talk like Elmer Fudd. Suppose your dad lives there and you want a change. Perhaps there are the resources there to help you get your education practically for free.

In my case, it is definitely all the above. Ok maybe just the Elmer Fudd thing.

I've now completed 2 days of class in University of Massachusetts Boston's "Teach Next Year," program. I'm with a cohort of 30 or so students and teachers-to-be from all walks of life. For the summer, I'll be in class Monday-Thursday 5-9pm. Come September, I'll be working with a mentor teacher at Dorchester Academy. Somewhere along the way, I'm theoretically getting endorsed to teach high school math--maybe special ed, too.

After several weeks of communicating with the program, I finally made it out here Sunday. Monday, I visited the "old" Dorchester campus. It will be in a slightly new location next year. It was exciting to meet some staff and students. The bus ride to the campus was definitely an experience I'll never forget. Being a white middle class Jewish girl from the Pacific Northwest, I'd never gone as much as 10 minutes in public without seeing another white face. It was kind of exhilerating to experience that kind of difference. I am definitely educating myself as much as possible on the lay of the land and surrounding myself with people who know the lay of the land so as to stay safe and all that.

In spite of feeling a little odd, I really enjoyed seeing the campus. The staff seem like really great, helpful people and the kids seemed sweet. My mentor teacher asked the students she introduced me to to give me advice and they told me things like, "Be strict, be helpful, etc." I was struck by how sweet they seemed. I almost got a false sense of confidence until my mentor teacher showed me her students' final grades. The kids have been tracked, so while one class was 80% F's, the other had a bit more diversity. She said I'd probably be getting a "higher" tracked class as an intern, so that's somewhat uplifting. I could definitely feel my eyes get wide when I saw that paper, though. As much as I tell myself I am going to see things and hear things that are completely foreign to me, I'm pretty sure that nothing is going to prepare me for it except the actual experience itself. I feel about as excited as Kristin Wiig's character who loves surprise parties on SNL. I've got ants in my pants. And part of it's the feeling of needing to rally for something truly challenging.

My first summer term of classes are "Inclusion" and "Content Literacy." Both are taught by experienced special ed teachers. I learned more in the first night of class than I had learned in a month of teaching or any previous sit-down with an education professional. I feel really honored to have such awesome faculty.

"Inclusion" has covered a lot of legal information so far on what constitutes a disability and how students are accommodated. It's very overwhelming, yet it's taught in a clear and concise way that makes me feel like I'm absorbing a lot of information very quickly. I hope to compile a list of "tricks of the trade." Both these instructors seem to effortlessly do things that make paying attention easy, like using their body language and voices to make their message impossible to ignore. They're just big teachers. They take up big space in the classroom. Matt paces the class and moves positions and moves in and out of the rows. It feels a little more like a dialogue that way somehow. Dr. G gets us to shut up and listen by turning off the lights, speaking really softly, or beginning to leave the room. That last one was genius. It really made me think about the psychology of a high schooler. They know teaching can easily become a power struggle--even if they are not trying to annoy you they are probably going to keep talking the first time you raise your voice to get their attention. It's just psychology. They know they have the power. But if you start to do something that confuses them, like start to leave the room, or if you do something that makes them feel like they're missing something important, like repeat the same sentence over and over again very softly, then they have the motivation to stop talking and listen up.

The "Content Literacy" class is about, well, literacy, and how to make it happen for these kids. I find this class very interesting, but I think it will apply to math in a very unique way. Mostly I'm just jazzed by the compassion I see in my instructors and the opportunity to connect with my cohort. I've met all the other math teachers and a few of the teachers at Dorchester. It's so reassuring to know that there will be a cohort going through this and I will have support.

I'm super tired and it seems like my hyper-excitability is exceeded only by my overwhelmed-ness. (I am not an English teacher, I make up words all the time!) For the most part I'm excited about being in a new place, where I can bring new and different skills to a diverse whole instead of just being one of the same kind of thing, like in Portland or in college.

My Inclusion instructor suggested writing in a journal every night to get in the habit of reflecting on class. So here begins this new habit! Welcome to my journey.

For lack of a better word, I think the hardest thing about this year for me will be adjusting to the culture of the Northeast and "toughening up" a bit. Yet I moved here because I want this experience. I'm just beginning to lose some of my self-consciousness as a West-Coaster, but it's definitely different here. People are more guarded and the more ambiguous environment encourages people to be a little more in their own universe. My dad called it "harder." I saw the slogan "It's good to be hard," on the back of one of my classmates shirts tonight and decided I liked that. So simple--and for me--so true. I've got the sensitivity down. I can be patient and nice until the cows come home. What I really want to do is to learn how to be tough, and I'm sure this year will bring me all that and a lot more.

And I hope to be able to look at this later and remember how frickin rad this all is. Programs like this are doing a huge service by connecting America's most educated with America's least--people who--without the monetary or programatic incentive--might not otherwise go out of their way to work in such an environment. This is rad. And as I watch my instructors talk about their passion for their work, I'm excited to continue honing a skill I've always been told I have a knack for--observing people and responding to their needs. This combined with the chill and distance of a true Northeaster and I'll be set! So that being said, "It's hard to be good and it's good to be hard." Let the games begin.