soy in apple.

This is the ninth week I've spent in a New York public school, and needless to say, I'm completely exasperated with everything about it. Like I've said before, there are no resources available to teachers at my school, a horrible administration, and the kids are driving me nuts. Now, if it were just the kids, I could probably learn to love this job with time. But working within the constraints of a totally broken system being run by arrantly incompetent administrators makes the job impossible. How the Department of Education manages to keep teachers past their first year is beyond me. I'm desperately seeking a way out at this point, and I've been tempted to just stop showing up to work.

For one, my principal is a racist asshole. Today, he commented that bringing religion into the classroom is inappropriate. Instead of saying "teachers have been bringing their religion into the classroom," he decided it was necessary to add that "black teachers have been bringing their religion into the classroom." When teachers commented on that, the principal decided to change the subject or rudely talked over them with his microphone. Then, when the teachers refused to relent, the principal said, "Mr. So-and-So, you must calm yourself now and stop talking unless you want to get written up for insubordination."

Next up, he treats the special education students as subhumans. He came up to the middle school group, the one responsible for the selection process, and commented that we allowed some kids with fetal alcohol syndrome into the school and there's absolutely "no reason for those kids to be here." Yes, it's our fault we let them in because kids with fetal alcohol syndrome do not have a right to have the right to get their education at a good school. Yes, it's our fault we let them in because kids with fetal alcohol syndrome could really have prevented their defects. Yes, it's our fault we let them in because their conditions prevent them from being as high-achieving as other students who have had supportive parents with resources.

Not only that, he always uses intimidation tactics in an attempt to scare or torture his faculty. He should realize by this point that everybody hates him and knows that the intimidation tactics aren't going to work. He's yelled at another first-year teacher multiple times at this point for teaching those special education kids with fetal alcohol syndrome and, I quote, "wasting school resources."

At this point, I've decided that if I ever get yelled at for not meeting his expectations, I'm going to flip the fuck out, curse him out, and quit. I am not taking bullshit from a man who can hardly walk up the stairs and treat his teachers with respect.

I try to avoid over-thinking since I feel like a crazy person when I do. So today, I'll just share with you my daily schedule.

• 5:30 - Wake up, shower, and get ready for school
• 6:15 - Leave the apartment, get coffee, and walk towards the train
• 6:30 - Board the NRW train at 8th St NYU
• 6:47 - Board the 3 train at 42nd St Times Square
• 7:10 - Arrive at school
• 2:50 - School ends; begin planning for the next day
• 4:30 - Leave school
• 5:15 - Arrive at home

Always a long day. How do people pull this off? I need to go back to being a student.

NYC public schools started Wednesday, September 9. Tomorrow, I'll be teaching my tenth day of class, and thus far, I've survived the first two weeks of school and shown up to the third week. Given that I feel like I've been through a decade-long war, this is going to be a long nine months. Luckily, I haven't been infected with any sort of plague by my 130 students and the fact that I haven't quit yet is a huge plus.

Over the past two weeks, I've developed some teacher tendencies that are hard to forget in a normal social setting. Oftentimes, I have the urge to correct someone's misbehavior while someone else is speaking, but I tend to swear like a sailor when I'm no longer the teacher. The professional clothes and the stern attitude sufficiently masks my fear that my students will expose me for the fraud I am. My #1 goal each day? To keep them as busy as possible so they don't have the opportunity to speak.

What gets me through each day is an emotional detachment from everything I'm doing--I know what I'm doing each day (kind of) and I'm doing it well (hopefully), but I'm not feeling anything until I get home and crash everyday. I've desperately missed obtaining an education myself. I constantly think about how mundane the material in the Living Environment Core Curriculum is and I wish that I could be talking about what interests me.

As I sat in one of my "graduate" classes this evening, I read a paper about how social rejection, anguish, and self-injury are related on a neurobiological level. It was utterly exhilarating to read, absorb, and question this new piece of material while considering the experiments I would perform if given the supplies. Having thought about going to medical school for a long time, I'm suddenly debating whether I want to go to an M.D., Ph.D., or M.D./Ph.D. program.

I feel so lucky that I'm young and that I have plenty of time to decide, but I also feel that this job is going to age me a lifetime. I'm losing my hair and have gone down an entire pant/skirt size since mid-August. I have too much white hair for a 21-year-old college graduate, a feature that another teacher at my school has already commented on. I pampered myself last weekend with a pricey pedicure, but honestly what I need is a good massage and a break from my obligations. I know that teachers only work 180 days of the year, and only now do I understand why most teachers opt not to teach summer school.

I'm interested to see where I'll end up by October.

Most of my entries have been concerned with conveying my frustrations with life and my long days. Until today, the educational policies of New York have not irritated me so much that I want to spend an entire entry trying to explain the system and why I still want to stay here in spite of all the bureaucracy.

Not too long after I committed to this program, the New York City Department of Education (DOE) put a hiring freeze on all new teachers: principals could only hire teachers who have previously been employed by the DOE. As a result, new teachers from any alternative certification programs cannot be hired until the DOE has decided to lift the restrictions. What does this mean for NYC Teaching Fellows, Teach for America, and other alternative certification people? My experience has solely been with the NYC Teaching Fellows, and we have simply had to wait.

Many principals seem to want to hire Fellows for a variety of reasons. Because most of us are first-year teachers, we're cheap. Several hiring representatives have told me that they want to hire the young teachers because of our drive and our desire to help these students who have suffered from inequities in education their entire lives. From what I gather, these schools want to hire us, and I've heard many principals have been waiting the entire summer for the restrictions to be lifted before they begin the hiring process.

If principals know that they want to hire Fellows and new teachers from other alternative certification programs, the DOE has several problems on their hands. What exactly are those teachers in the reserve pool (excessed teachers, teachers who have been forced into the notorious Rubber Room) being paid for? During our training, we've been given a variety of statistics regarding the Rubber Room--one number I've heard is that there are approximately 700 teachers being paid an average salary of $70,000 for doing absolutely nothing other than sitting in the Rubber Room from 9AM-5PM. Obviously, I don't care to verify this statistic, because frankly, 10 teachers getting paid an average of $45,000 for doing nothing is already enough waste. Teachers sitting in the Rubber Room have tenure, as do other teachers in the reserve pool, so this inevitably leads to questions concerning the legitimacy of tenure. Lastly, if principals know that all they must do is wait out the restrictions, the DOE clearly lacks control over what administrative decisions. The power struggle between the DOE and the school administrators yields no benefits for the teachers in the reserve pool, the new teachers, and simply wastes everyone's time.

The mission of NYC Teaching Fellows is to provide aspiring teachers with a Transitional B Certificate while they obtain their Master's of Education, with which they can become long-term teachers in the high need schools of New York. This summer has consisted of Master's "coursework," NYCTF-organized training sessions, and student teaching at summer schools all within 5-7 weeks. My days consist of me waking up at 5:45 AM, leaving my apartment by 6:55 AM, and not arriving home until 7:15 PM. The strenuous days have obviously worn me down, and combined with the possibility that I may not even be employed because of some stupid political issues, it's hard for me to see the light through all this.

When I first started my student teaching at summer school, I was terrified of the children--what if they hate me? What if I'm an awful teacher? Over the course of the past month, I've developed a bond with my students and interacting with them is one of the brightest parts of my day. As 7th grade summer school students in math/literacy, their behavior leaves something to be desired, but that is no longer an issue to me. Everyday, when I realize they have not learned some of the most basic skills, such as identifying the main idea of a passage or multiplying, my heart breaks. Everyday, when I see some of the other teachers at my school, I think to myself, "How can these people possibly be employed?" These kids want to learn and be successful, but so many have given up on them and not many have provided them with guidance. As 7th graders, they can barely read and write 2-3 sentences summarizing their summer school experience, yet they are all incredibly bright. Yes, all of them.

In June, when the program first started, I was unconvinced that I could do this for the rest of my life. Having worked with just a few students and seeing their potential, I'm beginning to think that this is a career I could do for more than just a few years. But, I need to start small. I must find a teaching position before I can even consider anything else.

It's been one hell of a summer. Moving cross country immediately after graduation, I didn't expect that I would adjust to New York so well. The subway system's pretty great (overall), I've done more walking in 6 weeks than I did in college, and I've (unfortunately) increased my alcohol tolerance over the course of the last month.

This is the last week of the program, and finally, I can start wandering around aimlessly to get to know the streets a little better. Except for when I go to the Bronx and out to a bar with my friends in the program, I almost never go above 20th St. I only go up to 20th because that's where I'm currently living. Next week, I'll be living in the East Village in my very own apartment. I'm excited to decorate and furnish my place with non-dorm furniture. In my current sublet, I'm using NYU's old dorm furniture. Though the apartment itself is spacious, I constantly feel as though I'm back at Caltech with this ugly furniture.

While I'm enjoying the city, the fast-paced nature of it is definitely exhausting at times. I often find myself rushing from place to place even though I don't have anywhere I need to be. Maybe it's because I don't like to waste the little leisure time by walking around too slowly or waiting an inconvenient amount of time between trains. Whatever it is, my favorite part of the day is just getting home, changing into my pajamas, and crashing on my bed for 10 minutes before I do anything else.

I miss California a lot, especially recently. I definitely do not miss the inhuman temperatures during this time of summer in Southern California, but I miss the dry heat and the more relaxed nature of home in general. The humidity here is awful! I feel like I'm walking into a sauna sometimes. I've gotten caught in the rain several times without an umbrella, and just yesterday we started having thunderstorms. The unpredictable nature of East Coast weather is something I love and hate compared with the constancy of California weather.

I wish I could go home in August for at least a week, but I swore I would not let myself do so until I find a permanent teaching position. I'll be flying down to Florida for a friend's wedding, so that'll be 4-5 days of nothing but parties, food, and the beach! I'm definitely grateful, because that will be extremely relaxing--I haven't seen a beach in so long! I regret not taking advantage of California's coast more when I was living there. At least now I'll appreciate it more when I go back for my winter vacation.

Still not what you expect. I stick out like a sore thumb whenever I go to the Bronx. Even in broad daylight, I occasionally worry about my safety when I'm going anywhere other than Lehman College or the I.S. 174 campus.

Today, I had an interview on Morris Ave and 140th St, which is a 5-10 minute walk from the subway stop. Once off the subway, I saw very few people and was just hoping to get to the school as quickly as possible. After a nice conversation with the principal of the school, I was joyfully walking back to the subway stop and had a number of guy ogle me like I was some sort of exotic spectacle and say "Heyy sweetie... you're a good-looking girl. Come back here." Now, I wonder if it were the short, the Asian, or the pants that awkwardly fell a little too high above my ankle? Mmm, sexy.

(Also, note to self: buy better trousers.)

It's been a long time since I've listened to Wolf Parade. I have this tendency to listen to my favorite bands over and over and over until I fall in love with something new. Sometime last year, I moved onto Animal Collective, but Wolf Parade will always have a special place in my heart. And, so will Death Cab. Don't judge--you know you liked them too.

Listening to Wolf Parade reminds me of a phase of my life that was so much easier. School, research, sleep, and dorm life. While a number of traumatic events interrupted this cycle, I never once had to worry about my credit score, signing a lease, balancing my work with a social life, or the track work on the trains I take everyday. What's more challenging is that I still have to work on school, sleep, and maintaining a active personal life on top of everything else. I'm still in a crappy transition phase where I'm partially dependent on my mother because I have no job, but I can't spend anytime looking for a job because my life is being overwhelmed by the training and preparations for that job I still need to get. Life's funny like that.

Throughout the weekend, I realized that I've been feeling extremely homesick. Despite the fact that I'm here in New York doing something I wanted to do, I'm so unsure of the present and what the future holds for me. In high school, it was easy: 1) get into college; 2) go to college; 3) figure out the rest later. All this is worsened by my uncertainty of how good a teacher I'll actually be. The program chose me because they thought I would do well. My peers and my advisor have given me great feedback, as have my cooperating teacher and field visitor. Whose opinion really matters though? The kids.

I've only been in summer school for a week, and it's the first time I've interacted with adolescents in a long time. I feel like I can't blame myself for not connecting with them, but I feel dejected when my kids prefer the other teacher. I can't tell if it's my personality, their lack of familiarity with me, or a racial thing. I've definitely already experienced being stereotyped by some of my students, and I am the only Asian at this school. The communities in the Bronx are extremely homogeneous, despite the overall heterogeneity of New York City. I suppose I can't blame them for keeping their guard up, and I can't blame myself for any flaws I've had in the classroom, given that these are my first weeks handling classes of approximately 20 students. All I can do is try to work on my skills and keep moving forward, but nagging question in my mind is whether I made the right decision or not.

I started training in a classroom on Monday. I spent the first two days observing my cooperating teacher interacting with the students and helping them with their work to some extent, and I taught for the first time today.

So first, let me tell you a little bit about my class. These are 7th going on 8th grade students, all of whom passed their state exams but either failed their classes or were forced into summer school as a disciplinary action. If a teacher, such as my cooperating teacher or myself, cannot see the reason why these kids are in summer school, how can we expect the kids to want to be there? To some extent, it's almost lucky that these students are not quite at grade level--they still have trouble with multiplication, fraction addition, and basic geometric concepts like area or perimeter. This way, we can at least provide them with the gateway skills they'll need to be successful in 8th grade and beyond, and summer school won't be a complete waste for them. Unfortunately, these kids think they know everything.

Being that it's been nearly 10 years since I've interacted with any 12 year-old students (yes, the last time I interacted with 7th graders, I was a 7th grader), I was frightened of how my lesson would go today. Overall, it went well given that it was my first time handling a classroom. The students listened and were engaged to some extent, and I have a very supportive cooperating teacher (who's already certified and has been teaching for several years) who was able to help me control them. I'm not a harsh disciplinarian at all, but my change of tone and my facial expressions seem to do me a lot of good. My students definitely are trying to gauge what kind of teacher I'll be, and I'm scared that my inexperience is blatant. I feel like I should try to provide my cooperating teacher with the support he needs when the students are disruptive during his lessons, but he doesn't really need it. Still, I'll spend my time in the corner with the misbehaving students so that they're uncomfortable and will pay attention, and this seems to work well enough.

Tomorrow, I'll be teaching the first hour again and helping the teacher out when he needs to deal with attendance, parent conferences, and other administrative issues. My goals for tomorrow are to avoid being overwhelmed while I'm on stage and learn the rest of the students' names. Big goals? You betcha.

After 3 weeks of living here, I must say the weekends have gotten progressively better:

6/13: Stepping in dog poop. Fail.
6/20: Spent some time wandering the East Village with some friends from college.
6/27: Caught up with my cousin, whom I hadn't seen in 5 years. Then, saw "The Hangover." Awesome.
7/4: Boyfriend visited. :D

It seems that I have to sandwich my long, PB&J (less-than-exciting) weekdays with some crazy awesome bread on the weekends. Okay, as crappy as that analogy may have been, it's the truth. This technique seems to work wonders though--I find it hard to believe that 3 weeks have already passed. But, it also feels like I've been living in this city for my entire life sometimes.

The weekdays have definitely gotten better. The people in the program are great, making my classes and commute much more fun than I would have expected. This week, I'll finally be working with students directly, but that means I'll be gone from my apartment from 6:55 AM until 7:15 PM on my longest days. Sometimes, it feels like this program is a nice little bubble that prevents me from having to deal with the real world. I have too little time to look for an apartment and I have such a different schedule from my boyfriend and friends on the West Coast that it's too difficult for me to keep in touch. Between talking to my old friends and my new friends, I have a hard time keeping track of all the details and what's happened to whom and what stories I've told.

I'm also not quite sure what I expected from a long-distance relationship. Before I left California, I didn't give it too much thought--of course we'll keep dating, why wouldn't we? After I left, I felt a little miserable for the first few days I lived here, but as soon as I got into a routine with the program, I just forgot all about how it was like to be with him. As terrible as it sounds, it seemed to be the only thing that would ease my mind. Spending the entire weekend undid all the so-called "progress" I had made, and I'm at a loss for what to do with myself yet again. Long distance is hard.

I landed at JFK around 6:45 AM. When I got here, I felt refreshed, optimistic, and relieved that, finally, graduation and moving were over. To top it off, I made it to New York City, where I've always always wanted to be. Never mind that I don't have my boyfriend or any close friends here, because I'm strong enough to deal with it. Not only that, but I'll be the one with experiences to envy after I've been successful in this program.

Then I got to my apartment. It's not that bad, but upon walking in, I saw the bareness of the room: some old couches, a rug, and a dilapidated old table--probably all old furniture that NYU undergraduate housing could no longer use. I realized the floor was dusty, the bathmat was gross and gray, and my room was smaller than it had ever been. At this point, it hit me that I wasn't at home or Caltech anymore, and I couldn't just spend my money to make this place as homey and mine as possible because I need to save money for my future, rent, and food.

I started off by cleaning the kitchen because I knew that I could never handle cooking or storing my food in a dirty kitchen. When I finished, I just showered and decided to go to KMart and Trader Joe's for groceries and other necessities for the household. It was a long walk to both places and I realize I probably could've just taken the subway to KMart instead of walking 20-25 minutes, but who cares? Walking allowed me to see a lot more stuff and waste a ton more time.

As the day went on, I saw more and more happy couples and groups of friends and it just reminded me of how alone I am. Everybody's in California, and I wanted to come out here on my own. Having been with my boyfriend every single day for 3 years and having gone home every other weekend during college, living alone is something I've never experienced. The uncertainty of what my next plans will be, whether or not I'll be able to make friends out here, and when I'll see my boyfriend or old friends or my mom again--all of these are terrifying prospects and I just don't like to go home.

Unfortunately, I've left a pile of work that I'll need to complete by Tuesday, so I must get to it.