Today is one of my favorite days of the year! My agenda includes: watching and mocking the Macy’s Parade with my sister, cooking cinnamon buns, eating ridiculous amounts of food, hanging with the family (including my aunt, uncle, and five-year old cousin coming in from Baltimore) and reading American Wife, which is excellent so far. 

I hope everyone else has equally relaxing and fun plans for the day. And thanks for all the congratulations! It hasn’t really sunk in that I don’t have to search for a job come January, but it is certainly something to be thankful for

Today, after getting one last email from an LA program director, I went online and clicked the confirm button.

I’m now officially a member of the 2009 Teach for America – Los Angeles corps. 

It’s going to be a crazy two years.

LA bloggers: you better have as good of get-togethers as the Boston Bloggers do.

Today I finished my last assignment for my photography class, and my character bio fro my acting class. This leaves the amount of things I have to do before I finish college at two: memorize and present a final scene in acting and finish revising my plays. 

It’s amazing that I got those two things done today, as I have zero motivation to do ANYTHING. I think its the fact that I had only four things to accomplish in three weeks (and now only two things…), so I figure I can keep putting them off. I also think its because I have a guaranteed job offer as long as I don’t fail my classes, which is doubtful at this point. I never thought I’d get senioritis as bad as I had it in high school, but I’m suffering really bad. All I want to do is watch “Friday Night Lights” on my computer and read my super expensive hardback books. 

Thank god I have an excuse to not do work for the next three days. Only one  more day until Thanksgiving break!

Whenever I get any free time at all, I begin to tear through books. This doesn’t seem like a bad thing, except that I live by an abundance of book stores, and instead of choosing to scour my (terrible) library for a book I want to read, I just go out and buy it. 

This week alone, I bought the hardback copy of Relentless Pursuit and finished it in three days. Then I decided it would be a good idea to go buy another book before heading to work to sit around and do nothing, so I picked up Malcolm Gladwell’s new book, Outliers, yesterday. 

Sadly, I’m already halfway thorugh it. I knew that would happen when I bought it, but I couldn’t bring myself to buy two hardback books in one day, so I waited on purchasing the next book I’ve been dying to read: American Wife. Sadly, I know I’m going to finsih Outliers tonight and will probably go out of my way tomorrow to pick up American Wife so I have something to read on the train ride home Wednesday morning.

I blame my dwindling course load. Seriously, I had absolutely nothing to accomplish this weekend for my classes…or my senioritis and the fact that I basically have a guaranteed job now have caused me to feel like I had nothing to accomplish this weekend. Oh well. I’m enjoying all the reading, even if my wallet isn’t. I’ll write some reviews when I finish up both books. 

This  morning I got up early to go to visit the KIPP Academy in Lynn with some other recently accepted TFA corps members and a Boston area recruiter. 

The school looked unassuming. It’s basically a converted church with some modular (trailer like) classrooms surrounding the building. You walk in and there are some murals on the wall, but there is definitely not money pumping into this school. 

Then we walked into a classroom, and my jaw dropped. Every kid was silent, sitting up straight, and appeared to be actively listening to the teacher. When the teacher asked a question, every hand shot up in the air. (Granted, it’s part of their system that every child raises their hand with one, two or three fingers raised, indicating how confident they are in answering, but still, they were all participating.) The room (and every room we went into subsequently) was adorned with sayings like “Every student will learn,” and the school’s motto, “Work hard. Be nice.” We walked into another room where a student was reading a story for the class, and when he got done, every child, after sitting silently and listening to him, burst into applause. In another room, kids were in a number of small groups looking at cells in a microscope and drawing what they saw. Again, there was silence, even as they milled around the room. Even as the kids walked through the halls to lunch, they were in perfect lines following their teachers, not a one out of line. 

We talked to a number of the teachers who were TFA alums (over half the faculty is made up of TFA-ers), and each of them said the school culture was responsible for it all. Students come in the summer before their fifth grade year and learn the rules and expectations of the school, and from what I saw, most of them were meeting those expectations. (And the ones who hadn’t that day, we saw head into lunch detention.) The biggest thing to note is that these are not necessarily the “gifted” kids from the district. Kids are put into a lottery to get into KIPP, so theoretically, any school could achieve these kinds of results with their students. (The stats are staggering – if you are a minority student in Boston Public Schools, you have a 3% chance of graduating from college. If you attend KIPP, you have an 80% chance.) You set specific expectations, and these kids meet them. You don’t need exessive funding and high caliber technology. You need strong educators working towrads a specific goal and sharing that goal with their students.

We looked at a bulletin board filled with “Life Maps” the kids had created about their lives. Almost every one of them had a pit stop that said something to the effect of “I started KIPP Academy and started loving school.”  

One of the things that struck me too, was how weird it was to be in a middle school again after so long. I mean, I have such distinct, vivid memories of my middle school days, but being at a school like that now, it seems so different.  Also, it was creepy (and encouraging) to see teachers who looked about my age commanding the attention of a classroom of students. I mean, when you are a student, even the young teachers seem old, so it was hard to picture myself as one of them, but seeing those kinds of teachers now altered my perception a bit. I could totally see myself being them. 

When we walked out, one of the other girls asked if you could fall in love with a school in an hour, because she definitely had. I did too, and what made me most excited about the prospect of accepting TFA’s offer is that 30% of the LA TFA corps members teach in charter schools like this one. In fact, they place in LA’s KIPP academy. If I could get into a school with like-minded individuals like KIPP, I feel like I’d really be able to put all my efforts towards working with my students, rather than dealing with bureaucratic bullshit that comes with working in some of the larger public schools. Luckily, we fill out preference forms where I could make that preference known. 

So at this point, I don’t know what I’m waiting for. I want to accept, but accepting is still a scary thought. I told myself this morning I’d wait until I finished reading Relentless Pursuit, but I can’t imagine the last 50 pages are going to convince me not to do it, which is basically what would have to happen for me to reject the offer. I mean, after everything I’ve seen and been told, can I say no? 

I think what’s really sealed it for me is seeing myself in the corps members I’ve talked to, which is what scared me the most about my LA entertainment industry internships – I couldn’t see myself being one of the producer’s or executives. I just wasn’t like them. These teachers and TFA staffers are like me, and that is comforting. I know it will be hard and stressful, and I’m sure I’ll have days I hate my life and cry, but to be around people I relate to, doing something that is ultimately important is what I’ve been wanting and asking for. I can take a challenge, and I think I’ll take this one.

Yesterday, I had some time to kill before going to work, where I would sit around doing nothing, so I figured I might as well stop at the bookstore and pick something up to read. I’d been dying to read American Wife by Curits Sittenfeld, because I LOVED Prep, but when I got to the store, I remembered a book that was mentioned anytime I looked up LA – Teach for America. 

It’s called Relentless Pursuit: A Year in the Trenches with Teach for America, and it actually follows four ’05 corps members through their first year in the program. I hesitated before purchasing it, wondering if I really wanted to take in an account of what my life could be like – gritty, terrifying details and all (especially, as no matter how journalistic the author’s intentions may be, she is still writing a book and needs conflict, and I assume, tended to gravitate towards the more dramatic, compelling [and thus more frightening  me] stories.) Despite all that, I ended up buying it and reading it all last night and at work today. 

I was 100 pages in when a Program Director from the LA office called me last night. Unfortunately, 100 pages in, the ’05 corps members were deep into their “What the hell am I doing here?” phase, which may have colored the percentage I gave the PD when she asked what my odds were of accepting versus rejecting. (I told her I was about 80/20, when really,  I’m probably more 95/5.) She was extremely helpful, though, not pressuring me and really giving me all the information I asked for. I definitely felt better after talking to her. She told me the story of how she cried gonig to the airport to training, thinking “What if they made a mistake when they picked me? What if I’m not really cut out to do this?” Then, when she got to induction, the first thing the TFA staffer told them was “We didn’t make a mistake.” Then she said the same to me. 

Today, I got about 150 pages further in the book, as I actually do nothing at work, and am now into the stage where the corps members are seeing results. It’s uplifting after all the crap they’ve been through, but still tough to read. I mean, at this point, I feel like I can’t turn down the offer, but it’s so hard to say yes to something that I know at some point will cause me to say, “Why the hell did I sign up for this?”

To me, it feels like I have to choose between feeling underutilized, bored, and powerless and feeling challenged, stressed, and tired (all. the. time. according to most former corps members.) In the book, one of the male corps members who admitted to crying on the drive home some days said, even after all that, he still wouldn’t trade places with his friends, who, according to him, were working low level jobs as “glorified salesmen” and spent their days bored out of their minds. And right now, I’m feeling the same way, because my main complaint at every job I’ve had (besides camp) has been boredom and the feeling that I’m too smart to spend my day making copies and answering phones. Why would I turn down a job where I get to be in charge 95% of the time, where I get to lead a group of people, where I get to use every skill I’ve amassed over my life? Plus, there’s that whole job security thing. 

Tonight, 256 pages into the book, I went to the matriculation dinner, which was basically a free dinner at a delicious Italian restaurant with TFA alumni and the recently accepted, soon-to-be corps members. I really connected with a girl who taught 7th grade literacy in New York. We talked about her classroom management strategy, finding your teaching style, and what books her kids liked to read. (Unsurprisingly, they were all addicted to Twilight.) I could see myself in her, and I could see myself having the same struggles she described, but also the same successes. She helped me see myself doing this more clearly. I told her I wanted to teach middle school over high school, and she assured me that as that is rarely the case, I would probably get to teach middle school if I made my preference known. That helped calm my nerves about potentially being stuck in a class with 12th graders barely two years younger than me. 

Tomorrow, I have my last round of TFA investigation. I’m going on a school visit to a KIPP middle school outside the city. Hopefully, once I’m there, I will really be able to envision what my life would be like if I click that ominous “Accept Offer” button. I’m so close to being there, but I just want to be sure.

I thought while I’m in the midst of figuring out my next life move – I have a phone call with someone from the TFA LA office tonight and a matriculation dinner tomorrow night that I’m hoping with solidify a decision for me – I thought it would be fun to dig through my old, real, paper and pen diaries to see what I wrote when I decided on my current life situation – where I would be attending college. (Partly inspired by some amazing diary excerpts from Dooce and Metalia.)

March 7, 2005

I feel like I’m on the brink of something big, the calm before the storm. Soon things will start happening and everything will start changing. Hopefully for the better, but still changing. Nothing will ever be the same. I’ll get college acceptances soon, figure out where I’m going, finish high school! I mean, I complain about how slowly this year is going, but it’s all going to be happening soon. 

(Next came an extremely concieted rant about how I can’t wait to be surrounded by my intellectual equals which actually contains the phrase “I just want to fit in without conforming.” Wow. Just…wow.)

I just want to know where I’m going next year NOW! I want to be able to really envision myself in college. And I must say that saying “I’m going to [college that waitlisted me] or “I’m going to [college I currently attend] both sound extremely good right now.

___________________

March 31, 2005

And I’m going to [where I go now]! Yep, after years and years of looking, the search is over. 

It’s so weird after all this time and all the searching that I’m am actually done. I know where I’m going to college – where I’ll be spending the next four years of my life, where my degree will be from. It’s crazy. It doesn’t feel real. Maybe it will set in once school ends. 

Wow, typing that all out – I realize my diaries are a lot more boring when typed out and that I took myself way too seriously in these writings.  I do, however, think it’s interesting that I feel exactly the same way now as I did then. I know my whole life is about to change, but I don’t feel like it at all right now. I’m still here at school, hanging out with my friends, taking classes. No one else is close to the end, so it just feels normal. I think once I make a decision about TFA, it might seem more concrete, but right now, its still this weird idea I can’t quite grasp.

As for my second entry, it’s bizarre that that single decision has brought me here, that I’m still living out the consequences of that day (in a good way!). It’s also weird that my mind didn’t think about my life after college. I think in high school, you can only focus on the next step. I focused on college for so long that taking a step afterwards feels like walking off the edge of a cliff, like there is nothing concrete left.

Lastly, I realized, while finding these entries, that I will definitely have to post some of my more melodramatic writings in the future, one of which was written at 2AM on a Saturday night between these two entries and begins with me extensively quoting Green Day, as I felt it was all that could capture my angst. Awesome.

First off, thanks to everyone for the congradulations! You all made my morning. Second, today, I’m participating in something called Blog Secret. Basically, everyone participating (list can be found here) wrote a post about something they can’t share on their own blog for whatever reason. All the posts then got all scrambled up and sent out for someone else to post on their blog anonymously. Below is the post I was sent. I didn’t write it. The post I wrote is floating out there somewhere. So enjoy someone else’s writing for a day. (A little note of warning: it’s a tad more risque than things I usually post here, so be warned. Mom – I’m looking at you!) Thanks to Nilsa for organizing!

______________________________________________

Ok. BlogSecret. Something I’m dying to talk about, but am too shy to attach my identity to it. Here goes:

It started out as an innocent game of truth or dare with my closest friends. There were four boys, one of which is one of my best, best friends, we’ll call him BFF Boy. Over 4 years ago, while we were in college, we were non-serious boyfriend-girlfriend for like 2 months. In retrospect, reasons we didn’t work out make so much sense now that I know him as well as I do now (I’m programmed for relationships; he’s on the move ALL THE TIME).

Anyway, it’s safe to say that things got a little weird. Note to self: Be careful who you play hours of Truth or Dare with while consuming bottle after bottle of wine and champagne, and ruling that any such “dare” would have to occur within the boundaries of the hot tub we were all sitting in, thus limiting the possibilities of what dares actually could happen.

Anyway, there were only two girls, myself and LP. I started off being lame (aka not drunk enough for the dares I saw coming) and kept saying “truth”. Given the nature of co-ed-drunken-hot-tub-truth-or-dare, naturally all of the “truths” were sex-related:

Where’s the coolest place you’ve had sex? (In the back of a pickup truck in the parking lot of the baseball fields where my then-boyfriend played summer baseball tournaments) Ever been with another girl? (No, but I’d secretly like to.) How many people have you slept with? (17. Don’t judge me.)

Right about then, I decided I didn’t necessarily want all the boys to know any more about my sex life, so I started risking dares. Of course, this meant kisses. Girls kisses, three-way kisses, etc. I had my bra untied by one of the guys’ teeth and had to untie the drawstring of another guy’s swim shorts in the same manner. Other things that happened included ass-biting, random cuddling, bottles of whiskey and red wine being passed, a champagne break, and finding out things about my friends I’ll have to take to my grave.

It got kind of crazy.

Then (if that’s not obvious), I got kind of drunk. LP and I started making out just for the hell of it. Just about every other turn. She’d never kissed a girl, and I felt like the sassy, more experienced one (does fantasizing about it count as experience?) deflowering the young, sweet virgin. And she tasted good. And had really soft lips. I was quite pleased to realize that kissing girls is, in fact, quite hot. (Or maybe making out in the hot tub with champagne breath is hot. Either way…)

It was like a debaucherous Spring Break beach party, except that we’re all too close of friends for most of it to have really been sexy. It was mostly just awkward. Except for the part where I got to make out with LP. That was pretty sexy.

But I suppose that’s what happens when 8 half-naked 20somethings drink too much champagne and sit in a hot tub for 4+ hours…

Then, things took a turn for the more interesting, more weird, more… awesome. LP, BFF boy and I decided to call it a night around 4am. I know BFF Boy has had a thing for LP since she started hanging around our crew this summer. But I also knew that LP was dealing with ending a long-distance relationship and that she wasn’t looking for anything serious. So, being the good friend that I am , as we changed out of our swimsuits and into our PJs, I asked her if she wanted to be left alone with him because I knew he hoped to continue making out with her. She BEGGED me not to leave her alone with him, so I didn’t. That meant that the three of us were now planning to sleep in BFF Boy’s bed.

You know where this is going.

I found myself sandwiching a very sweet and drunkish LP in between myself and BFF Boy as we vied for her attention with our kisses and cuddles. I wouldn’t really call it a threesome (at least not by normal standards – no one got naked, and BFF Boy and I barely touched each other except for a couple of semi-awkward kisses)… LP just got the sweet end of a deal with two people fighting over her for a couple of hours, kissing her and randomly groping her wherever we could reach. It was pretty PG-rated by Official Threesome Rules, but it was a good, solid make-out session. Looking back, that was honestly probably for the best, considering how close the three of us actually are in Friend World.

Either way, I got a sweet deal finally getting to make out with a chick for real. I’ve kissed girls before in a very PG-rated way, and I went out with a girl (like on a date, kind of) a couple of times a few years ago, scoring a “real” goodnight Girl Kiss. But until this night, I’d never full out roaming hands, rolling-around-on-a-bed, hands-through-her-hair make out session with a girl despite having always wanted to. Now that I’ve made it to second base?

I’d like to swing for a triple next time…

So, today I got a a rather interesting email. It went a little something like this:

“Dear Amanda,

I am pleased to extend you an offer to join the Teach For America 2009 corps! This offer to join Teach For America reflects both your outstanding accomplishments and your potential to move students to achieve. In order to secure your place in the 2009 corps, you must complete matriculation forms on the Applicant Center on or before Friday, December 5 at 5:00 p.m. ET.

Effecting dramatic, measurable gains in students’ academic achievement is an incredibly challenging pursuit given the obstacles facing students and teachers in our nation’s lowest income communities. You have demonstrated great potential to excel as a teacher despite these challenges and to ultimately assume great influence in our country. We now invite you to make this commitment and take our effort forward.

Congratulations again, and welcome to Teach For America.”

Of course, I immediatley logged on to see my regional placement, because that would be my deciding factor. And, in all ironies of ironies, it said this: 

“Congratulations! We are pleased to invite you to join the 2009 Teach For America corps and are excited to assign you to teach secondary English (grades 7-12) in Los Angeles.“

Yes. I’ve been assigned to go back to where my epiphany happened. A day after I had a hour long conversation with my mom about how I should just move to LA to try out the entertainment industry again. A day after I started making myself feel alright about just going there for the spring to see if I could make this film and tv thing work. I mean, I have a degree in it. Well, I will in a month and a half.  All of that happening in response to my growing suspicion that I bombed my TFA interview. Apparently not. 

I just got back from getting drinks with the 5 (out of 25!) people who were accepted from my school. It was really selective this year. That made me feel good. The other girls made me excited. They made me think I could do this. They made me think I’m probably going to do this. I mean…I feel weird saying no after the ridiculous application process. Maybe that’s their whole trick. God, I had decisions. I also hate not knowing what I’m doing with my life.   

Stay tuned for a possibly life changing decision by December 5th at the latest.

I don’t usually do weekend recaps, but this one was pretty eventful, so maybe I’ll start. 

Friday I slept in til noon, because I’m lazy and because it’s my only sleep-in day. I made mself some french toast, so obviously, the weekend was off to a winning start. I hung around in my apartment, working on my plays and watching Food Network. (Who’s excited for Thanksgiving week?!) Friday Night, Jillian and I headed to a Senior’s only Hard Hat party at the new dorm/apartment building they’re building next to ours. It’s times like those when I realize how big my school is, because I hadn’t ever seen most of the people there, and supposedly, we’ve been going to school together for four years. Oops. After that, we headed next door to the arena for a basketball game, brining the total number of sporting events I’ve been to at this school to two! (The first being a hockey game freshman year.) I blame this sad situation on the fact that I love the one sport we don’t have here (football) and our teams are generally not great (well, except the hockey team…but I don’t really like hockey so that falls under reason number one.) The game was super fun, though! It didnt take me long to become a rabid fan, so when we tied the game at the last mintes, I was freaking out with everyone else. Sadly, we didn’t win, but I did get to relive my middle school dance team days while watching the dance team out on the b-ball court. Good times. 

Saturday, I dragged myself out of bed to go to work, but afterwards, I headed to Josh’s, where I awkwardly woke  him up (it was 2:30PM, so I didn’t feel that bad), because we’d made plans to see High School Musical 3 again. (Before you judge, the first time, I missed A LOT because of the rabid crowd AND we now know all the songs and could sing along, making the movie infinitely more enjoyable.) Anyhoo, I didn’t want to walk all the way home then back over to his apartment before the movie, so I figured Josh and I could get lunch at the new Chipotle (YUMM!!!) that opened by the theater. I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer, which, I learned when I knocked on his door, was because he was alseep with his phone on silent. Oh well. He got up, and we headed to lunch and then to the movie. I didn’t feel too bad about us seeing the movie again, until I looked at the crowd which consisted of a couple making out in the back, a girl sitting alone eating a large popcorn, and a row of five-year-old girls. Whatevs. The movie was awesome. Again. 

Last night, Jillian and I headed out for sushi at Fugakyu in Coolidge Corner, which was amazingly delicious. I got a roll with eel and tempura sweet potato. It was insane. In a good way. Afterwards, we headed to a bar for my friends 21st birthday. Here, my weekend hit a low point. I had to act as Jillian’s wing woman, but I was too good at it, because about halfway through the night, she started dancing with some guy, leaving me to sit alone in the back of the bar texting my sister, during which, I broke my quasi-new necklace, sending black beads scattering all around me. Coolness Fail. I finally almost left with another friend, but when I went to see if the guy could walk Jillian home later, she decided to leave with me. 

This morning, I, of course, woke up nauseous, but sadly, had to get up early to go to my sorority’s Founder’s Day celebration. Now, I’ve decided in retrospect that my motto for this day was “Really?!” (in the vein of “Really?! With Seth and Amy” on SNL’s Weekend Update.) My little, her roommate who I love, and I headed out around 10:30 to overload on caffine and catch the buses that were supposed to drive us to the other campus around 10:45. Luckily, we got there on time, because when we arrived, we learned that “Buses” really meant “15-passenger vans.” Two of them. For our 80 person sorority. Awesome. We got to be in the first round of riders over, which proved to be almost as bad as going on the second round, as we had to sit for an hour and a half at this other campus waiting for the event to even start. At least it gave us time to eat the packed lunches we were advice to bring. (They couldn’t even feed us? Really?!) I ate my cold bagel from Starbucks, even though I’d just finished a Starbucks breakfast sandwich an hour earlier. It was at this point that I started getting pissed that I’d had to get up at 9AM. Luckily, the girls in my chapter are cool enough that we could entertain eachother. 

Then the event actually started – some woman from the international office came to do a “workshop” with us about living the values of our sorority. She bestowed information on us like, if a girl doesn’t share the same values as her sisters, the chapter may have no choice but to ask her to leave, that is, unless you can conform her to your ways. You should never wear your letters when you look bad, because people will judge you and your sorority, as evidenced by the time she saw some girl on the campus where she works from a rival sorority looking like “garbage poo” (Yes, friends, that’s a direct quote), and she thought it made them all look trashy. No, sweetie, I think that makes you look trashy when you trash talk girls 30 years younger than you. (And my fellow sisters and I were glad SHE wasn’t sporting letters along with her RED PLEATHER VEST. Ick.) We were all so disgrunted by the time we had to question eachother about our values and name adjectives that describe ourselves, that all my little, Lynn, and I could think of to describe ourselves was sarcastic, bitter, and judgemental. All true, but not somehting you want to bring up at a job interview. 

It was at this point that I thanked god for my sisters (the ones in MY chapter, not crazy alumni “sisters”) who all saw most of what this woman said as judgemental bullshit (like most of the things advisors tell us.) One of my sisters actually said, “Really. I thought what mattered was what’s on the inside.” Seriously. At least the girls I know can make me laugh through these ridiculous events. 

After what seemed liked forever, the event ended. As people on the first wave of buses coming up, my family (that is my little, grandlittle, and me) wanted to make sure we were on the first wave of buses out, because I was not spending another hour in suburban Massachuettes with crazy sorority women. Sadly, we headed out the wrong door and feared we’d been left behind. Luckily, after circling the building, we spotted the vans across the parking lot. We literally sprinted down a grassy knoll to push ourselves onto one of the vans, and by the time we were inside, we were laughing so hard at the ridiculousness of our desperation, I couldn’t breathe. We had a fun ride back, talking about so many random things (Vegan restaurants named TJ Piddleywinks, raccoons, The Office) that I was crying laughing at a few points. 

People ask me why I put up with all this sorority crap, which I seem to complain about all the time, and I think the van ride back is reason why I put up with it. Because at the heart of my sorority are girls I really do like and enjoy spending time with. I mean, I hadn’t even met my grandlittle until September, since she pledged while I was in LA, but I clicked with her instantly, because I love  my little and my little loves her. Things like that, you have to admit, are kind of cool  Yes, the bureaucracy and the mandatory events and crazy judgmental alumni make it obnoxious, but when you are stuffed in a 15-person van with 20 other girls and still find yourself laughing until it hurts, that’s not something you can leave easily.