I gave my school a heads up about getting into grad school, and being the amazing boss and friend she is, my assistant principal told me to take all the time I needed to decide.

But I didn’t decide. Obviously I needed to visit first.

So, I visited New York, went on a tour, and got all my questions answered. I realized I like the neighborhood, and I got all the right answers when I talked to a student in the program. I told myself I liked what I saw, but I still couldn’t decide. Not until I got my financial aid information. Obviously.

Earlier this week I got my financial aid information. I got a scholarship I applied for and work study, but still, seeing how much I would need to take out in loans was (and still continues to be) a bit daunting.

And now I have nothing else left to wait for, which is mildly terrifying.

It’s terrifying because I kept thinking that by waiting for these things – visiting, getting questions answered, finding out about aid – and an answer would magically appear, a choice would be made for me, but it hasn’t happened. Nothing has become more clear.

I know it is because no matter what information I’m given, deciding to leave a job that pays well, that lets me work with people I genuinely like, that makes me feel like I’m doing something important is really difficult, especially when I’m looking at the prospect of student loans and tiny New York apartments.

On the flip side, however, I’m not really happy with my life right now. It isn’t terrible, but it is barely what I want right now and certainly not what I want forever or even the next few years, so shouldn’t I change it? Why should I wait? If I didn’t go now, I’d probably want to go next year or the year after. I never planned to stay at my school for more than four years. Plus, if I don’t do this, what else would I do? There isn’t anything else I want to do more. If what I really want to do is pursue educational theater, why shouldn’t I just suck it up, take the loans and go do something I’ve been saying I want to do for a while now?

When I look at it that way, it seems crazy not to go, but I’m still not totally used to the idea that I can just change my life drastically because I feel like it. It feels weird. It feels like too much power, almost. I’ve also never taken a risk like this. There is no guarantee that I’ll find the kind of job I want or really ANY job after graduating. It’s terrifying to think about.

I’ve also started seriously thinking about how horrible it is going to be to tell my students, who I’ve followed for the past three years, that I won’t be there to see them off their senior year.

But on the other hand…ugh. I think I’m stopping for the night. This could go on for a while.

Man…decisions are hard.

A week ago, I was anxiously checking my email every 20 minutes waiting to hear back from Teach For America about a job that could keep me in LA.

This morning, I called NYU to schedule a meeting with a student in the Theater Education department to ask questions about their program when I fly back East this weekend.

Oh, did I not mention that I got into a graduate program at NYU? Because I did…Let me back up.

As I was obsessively checking my email last Wednesday, as I was still waiting to hear about this job the day AFTER TFA told me I would hear from them, and only 10 minutes after talking to my mother about how CRAZY I was going waiting to hear from TFA, I randomly and unexpectedly got an email from NYU.

“Congratulations! On behalf of the Admissions Committee, I am delighted to offer you a place in NYU Steinhardt’s Fall 2012 entering class”

I, of course, immediately called my mom back, laughing, to tell her I had gotten news but not the news I had been waiting to hear.

Two hours later, I got a call from Teach for America. They were very sorry. They think I had a lot to offer and believe in my talent, but they don’t have a place for those talents right now. It was the news I thought I had been dreading, but after having another plan, another option, an option that after a week of reflecting I realize now is probably the better choice for me, I was fine. I didn’t cry…or even feel like crying. It felt like the right call for everyone.

In that moment, I thanked the universe for letting TFA make me wait that extra day, for letting me get that NYU email first to save me from even one minute of freaking out, thinking I would have no option for next year. The universe is weird that way sometimes.

I also want to thank the universe for letting this be the week I finally started The Joy Equation. As I said last week, I have never been at this sort of crossroads before. While I am so happy to another option for next year (potentially two: still waiting to hear back from Emerson), I still need to make a difficult decision. Leaving my school next year, especially as every student I have taught at that school, is entering his or her senior year – I taught 9th, 10th, and now 11th grade – will be really emotionally difficult, and moving is always a logistical nightmare. On top of that, I have a life in LA. I have amazing friends in LA. I have become accustomed to the weather and proximity to the beach in LA. Leaving all of that behind is not something I can do lightly. With all of these thoughts constantly swirling around in my head, giving myself this chance to journal every day and spend over an hour every week – as I did today – really reflecting on who I am, what I want, and how I think I can get there, has really been amazing and restoring, and I think will continue to be so over the next month as I grapple with these choices.

Later this week, I’m heading to the east coast for my grandma’s 75th birthday and to take a quick trip into New York to check out NYU’s campus. I’m hoping as I make this trip and continue reflecting, things will keep coming into focus!

I’m going to let that sink in for a minute, because a year ago, I would’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of that statement. One, because I used to think I would hate yoga, because clearly, it’s just holding poses for long periods of time and “Om-ing”. (I’ve, obviously, since been proven wrong.) I also would’ve laughed, kind of a nervous laugh, but laughed none the less, that a Tuesday could render me into a blubbering, downward-facing mess, but alas, that day has come.

What led to this? Kind of a lot of things. Months of making choices that make me feel vaguely shitty about myself in my personal life. A job that is slowly sucking me dry. A week (well really, months) of waiting to hear back about jobs and from schools and hearing nothing EVEN THOUGH THEY SAID I WOULD HEAR FROM THEM TODAY! (Perhaps I should get back into child’s pose before I start crying again…)

All of this led to last week, when in a rash bout of stress-writing, I submitted an application to be a Stratejoy blogger. I had thought about applying before, but my life was never really a mess (not that all Stratejoy bloggers are a mess…I just would’ve had NOTHING to write about because I was pretty content), and I can’t say I’d actually considered myself in quarter-life crisis mode, but in that flash of stress-writing, I realized….I am now!

Although I wasn’t chosen for this season, I did get some encouraging words from Molly, who is the queen of encouraging words, and thus, I’m trying to appreciate the whole experience, in my infinite hope in the “everything-happens-for-a-reason” philosophy, for pushing me to realize I need to do something about this kind of deep-seeded funk I’ve gotten myself into that has led to this yoga crying. I’ve been trying to baby-step my way out of it for weeks – attempting to drink less (and failing), attempting to eat better (and mildly failing), attempting to go to yoga three times a week (and going, maybe once) – and have yet to have any success. I was attaching hope to the blogging thing, thinking that if I got it, I could blog my way out of the funk by broadcasting all my madness in the hopes that it would go away, but I realize that isn’t really a solution. I can’t wait for someone to hand me a solution through blog comments to all the issues I’ve been dealing with in the past few months. I need to do something about it myself…and just blog about it here – blog comments welcome.

Thanks to all of that and my hitting my version of bottom tonight, I’m starting The Joy Equation tomorrow in hopes that it will help me take some steps this month and beyond to do less of the things that lead to tears falling into my nose as I cry in downward facing dog and more things that make me dance around my room in joy to Broadway songs, which I actually enjoy much more. Surprising, I know. Sadly, I also know that tomorrow, I’ll still be panicked waiting to hear from this job and various grad schools, still be annoyed at kids not doing their homework, still feeling kind of lonely at work and at home, and still counting down the days until June 15th when this year will be over. It’s hard to start to change when so many things are (momentarily) staying the same, but I hope I can at least try, since waiting until June for SOMETHING to give will definitely drive me to more nights like these.

Rash decision one: Give up theater, after a life time of dance classes, voice lessons, summer theater camps, and a performing arts high school, after a terrible college program audition (complete with crying phone meltdown to my mother) and a comment from my high school drama/playwriting teacher that my play read more like a sitcom. Instead of pursuing an BFA in Musical Theater (which I could not have done solely due to lack of necessary talent…) or even a BA in Theater Studies, I decided to major in Television and Film with the new dream of writing for Television. It was quasi based on my lifetime love of television, but looking back, it was also quasi reactionary. Even so, that decision shaped the next four years of my life.

Rash decision number two: Apply to be a counselor at a Jewish summer camp. A completely random decision a the time, having never attended camp myself. It came up after a third or forth viewing of the MTV Documentary “Fat Camp” with my friend Nick my second semester of college, during which I talked about how I almost went to sleep away Jew camp as a kid, but chickened out at the last minute. I thought about how I had nothing to do that summer and about how much fun I’d had the summer before working at a Performing Arts Day camp, and how I’d always secretly wished I had just sucked it up and GONE to camp that summer, so I, of course, randomly started researching and applying to Jewish summer camps in the Midwest. I heard back from several, got hired at one, and proceeded to have the best two summers of my life 20 minutes outside of Cleveland, Ohio, which in turn led to both my amazing Australian adventure with my two camp BFF’s and my third rash decision.

Rash decision number three: Apply to Teach for America. After my second semester junior year experience of interning and hating life in LA, I felt lost. My rash decision to major in TV was looking like an epic failure after discovering I didn’t, in fact, enjoy working in television, and I had no idea what to do with my life. The only vague thought I had was to maybe apply to Emerson to study Theater Education and circle back to my original love of theater and my new found (Thanks to Camp!) love of working with kids. I doubted I would get in, however, with my limited camp experience teaching drama one summer and my one vaguely related to education class, the Politics of Education. Then I saw one of those pesky recruitment signs touting the (horrifying) statistics about low-income schools, which reminded me of all the things I learned were broken in the education system in my one education class. I went to an info meeting, told my mom I was thinking about applying, and filled out the application in a day, figuring I would let fate decide, since I didn’t really have faith in my decision making skills at the time. Then a funny thing happened. Fate decided I should be a teacher.

And that’s where I am now. One year into my two-year commitment to TFA, which is when everyone in TFA starts asking “What are you going to do next Spring when you finish?” They, of course, are asking so they can steer you into staying in education, thus fulfilling step two of their two-part plan to close the education gap. And for the first time in a while, I’m not feeling like making a rash decision that will throw me in a completely different direction.

Maybe it’s just because my life is going pretty well right now that I don’t feel like changing it and, eventually one small blip will send me looking at law school applications, but for now, for the first time ever, I’ve drafted out a plan for the next five years of my life, based on where I am now right now. It’s weird to write out where I want to be five years into the future, because for the last five years, my plans have been changing and evolving on a regular basis. There has never been a constant, because I have always felt unsure, like I wasn’t good enough to act or I wasn’t cut-throat enough for Hollywood. It’s kind of scary to feel stable and to plan, because I have a history of planning and then pursuing those plans only to chuck them out the window and do something totally different. I even wrote my college admissions essay about how I did this, and after that, I changed my mind again!

But maybe those rash decisions were all just leading me here, to the place I was supposed to end up. I just had to make those giant, seemingly random leaps because I wasn’t going to get to this place fast enough unless I made mistakes, took on random jobs and left a few things up to fate.

Maybe planning just feels scary, because, as I’ve seen, life doesn’t go according to plan, and I’m just afraid to fail. In the past, as my plans have changed or been only a few months ahead of me, I’ve never technically failed. I’ve gotten everything I’ve really tried to do. I don’t know how I would handle it if I made this plan, went for it with all I had, and then didn’t succeed.

Then again, life is scary and unpredictable, as I’ve seen, and I might fail, but I think I need to focus on the fact that right now, in this moment, I’m so incredibly grateful that I made those decisions, and that life, unpredictably, brought me here to this place where I can make plans for my future, because when I think of what my life would have been had I not made those random, rash decisions, I wouldn’t have all the life experience that is now factoring into my plans. I guess I just have to trust that even if life doesn’t go according to the plan, it can still lead you to a good place.

I have no idea what I want my life to be like: what kind of person I want to be, what kind of person I want to be with, what kinds of things I want to do, what kinds of places I want to live. No fucking clue.

Awesome.

Other than that, my main excitement of the day came  vicariously through my sister who saw Jason Segal at Rite Aid in LA. (Me=supremely jealous.) When asked for details,  my sister said only “he was getting a prescription and then looked at Easter Candy.” Good to know.

When searching for cars in the past few weeks, I’d really only found one that I was seriously considering: A new Chevy Colbalt. It’s a good price, so I can afford to get a new one with all the extras I want – XM radio, blue tooth, navigation, and best of all, an iPod plug-in. (Podcasts on the road!? Yes, please!!) They aren’t the highest rated cars, and we all know GM isn’t doing super well, but I’d be getting a lot for my money, and it’s a cute little car. (Just for reference: it’s the car I drove all last semester in LA, so I almost feel like I’ve already owned one.)

As much as I like the Cobalt, though, in the back of my mind, I’ve really been wanting a hybrid car. I’ve always thought that when I got the chance to get a new car, I would have to get a hybrid. I mean, not only would I get to save money on gas, but I also would get to save time! (I hate hate HATE getting gas, but who doesn’t?) Sadly I’ve realized while shopping that all new hybrids are out of my price range. Not wanting to give up on my hybrid dream, I did a little research and saw that ’06 Civic Hybrids and ’05 Prius’s were good used hybrids, so I stashed that pieced of info in the back of my mind and figured if I came upon one, then great, (and if it happened to be a pretty, beautiful blue Prius, even better)  if not, a Cobalt would certainly do. 

So with that info tucked away, I went with my parents to the Toyota dealership today to look at cars for them, when I happened upon, what else, but a pretty, beautiful blue ’05 Prius…in my price range. Was it fate? I don’t know, but I do know it’s what I’ve always said I wanted. The catch? No fancy add ons. No leather seats with seat warmers. No navigation. No *gulp* iPod plug-in (which was, I’m embarrassed to say, the measure I was using on all other cars). 

It’s hard for me to give up the car I’ve always said I wanted just because it doesn’t have bells and whistles I didn’t even know I wanted or could afford until last week, but it’s also hard to pay as much for a used car as I would pay for a brand new one with more features (although I would save a lot on gas…). 

So that is my dilemma. Dream car with some miles on it or alright new car with some sweet extras. I have to decide by Monday (with my self-imposed deadline) so I’ll keep you updated, as I’m sure you are all on the edge of your seat about my future car purchase.

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.

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.

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.