It’s almost surreal.
I knew Teach For America decisions would be e-mailed on January 21, 2010. I knew they said the decisions would be posted at 8 p.m. But still, I couldn’t help myself from clicking the refresh button on my e-mail at least once every five minutes starting at 8:30 a.m. A night of tossing and turning, dreams of children in my classroom and waking up practically every other hour didn’t help to keep my naturally anxious self from relaxing.
Going to class was painful. My thoughts of lessons and lectures were interrupted by notions of decision letters – good and bad. By the end of each class period, I had thoroughly convinced myself that I wasn’t gonna be offered a spot.
“Well my interview went well, but the one-on-one had some silent moments.”
“Perhaps you came across too strong in the group interview, Katie. I’m sure they don’t like that.”
“Why would they pick you, Katie? There are 35,000 other amazingly qualified applicants.”
Every thought, every self-realization of doubt had decided to flood my brain during my two-hour ethics of journalism class. My pen tapped; my legs bounced; my breakfast went uneaten. Texts were sent to my boyfriend begging for support.
By some miracle, I had managed to calm myself down on my drive home from class. Knowing that it was only 4 p.m. allowed me to persuade myself that there was no use in worrying for the next four hours. Menial tasks on my computer while talking to Andrew on the phone lead me to check my e-mail.
And there it was.
Woah, hold your horses, it’s only 4:30 p.m. Was I just accepted? I then proceeded to read and re-read and re-read again.
Nearly one minute after those congratulatory words embedded themselves into my mind, I had to alert my new best friends, Facebook and Twitter - they’re such gossips that I knew I could count on them to get the word out.
Jamie and I were elementary school buds to the 10th degree. Sitting together on field trip buses, sharing lunch food (Lunchable pizzas!) and participating in color group activities didn’t even begin to scratch the surface.
My most fond memories of grade school all seem to involve Jamie. My very first day of Kindergarten in Ms. Cowan’s Scooters class introduced me to her. From there, she helped me practice and audition for the oh-so-prestigious Sunsations, our elementary school choir. We sang duets (“In the meadow we can build a snowman…”) and practiced our mini-show, “It’s Saturday.”
We cheated together on in-class spelling tests, and we roomed together on overnight trips. Our parent-child book club, beginning in fifth grade, brought us even closer. WU-TV, our school’s own news program, and Dear Sunny, our school’s student-to-student help club, were a scream.
Outside of class, Jamie and I celebrated every single birthday together – pull-apart sunflower cakes and all. Brownies camp-outs and meetings filled our days. Sleepovers and flat-ironing hair filled our nights. Multiple group projects and partner projects were completed at her or my house.
Funny how life works, isn’t it. The happiness of my elementary school years will be joining me as I tackle primary school all over again. I can’t wait to see what’s in store.
So KP in the City will, from here on out, more aptly be KP in the Classroom….'cause that’s where you’ll find me. Baltimore and me!
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