Panera Dreaming

It's a real fall day out today, a blustery pouring rain end to a miserably busy week.

Miserably busy isn't quite the right term. This week was full of a lot of joy. Never have I seen school spirit such is displayed at Gwynn Park. Everyone, World-of-Warcraft nerd to homecoming queen, took some part in the festivities. Each dress up day, our students went ALL OUT. Each evening, the festivities went on with greater enthusiasm than the day before. Today, we went to the homecoming football game and watched hundreds of students in the band, dance squads, cheer squads, flag squads and whatever else do the thriller dance in unison in front of looming, dark skies. It was electrifying!

But it has been a week without end. Monday: school than grad school. Tuesday: School, Professional Development, gradschool. Wednesday: School, then judging class decorations untill 5. Thursday, school, then judging all of the class night competition mayhem till 10pm. Friday: School, Pep ralley, and finally home to collapse. No sleeping in Saturday: off to Teach For America Professional development, then the football game, and now a few hours of grad school work in a Panera till we go chaperone the dance tonight. Tomorrow, it will be all work catch up again, and monday we're off on another week where I'll be observed by my principal.

One of my roommates is seriously considering quitting Teach For America after a student's mother accused her of racial insults. Now she will have to deal with the school board and other authorities. My other roommate is also at serious burn out stage. We spend too often crying and wondering about what's missing, not sleeping and constantly fretting, without any end in sight. Today at PD they pep talked us and told us we were all in the same boat: It had to be our will power to get us through.

I think I went through my bigger crash a few weeks ago (see: dissillusionment phase) and now I'm just operating in some kind of numb, apathetic state waiting for Thanksgiving. I wrote a letter to myself in June that they gave back to us today. I laughed at the ironic starting paragraph to the letter, written before I had seen ONE SECOND in a classroom or had known one ounce of exhaustion:
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Dear Tori,

What have you gotten yourself into? This is not PR- this is not a nonprofit you invest in before March. This is not where you thought you'd be.

The week has been a long one. You feel like you've been here a long time...You know you need to get inspired, but overwhelming you are still the doubts about this choce and the worries about your future. You are wary of glorification and idealism.

At the same time you are impressed with the TFA machine. It is young, passionate, full on conviction. It's well organized, resources abound. Support is huge. This is a corporate culture you could work for.

There's still so much that needs to fall into place. You're moving on with a cautious optimism, hoping the next few weeks will touch the spirit.

You're praying a lot. You're hoping a lot. And you're getting ready to work because you CAN rock this.

Buenas Suerte,
Tori

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