A goal is a goal is a goal

At least in New York City it is light out at 5:30 am. There was the sun, hanging in the sky, ready to mock me. My days for the next five weeks are long but hard for certain. We arise at dawn, depart for our school sites at 6:30 am, and spend from 7 am to 4:15 pm in an air-condition-less classroom, battling the heat and humidity, and trying to stay awake so as not to miss one important fact that may shape our strengths as a teacher. I did sweat, but also I did learn. I learned that the Achievement Gap is real. I learned that "the need is great and time is short." But not only did I hear it, I felt it. Today, I lived it. I sat in a classroom in a tired school building in the middle of a low-income urban community and tried to focus on my task despite the overwhelming heat with no solution. Because of the absence of air-conditioning, we left all windows wide open, inviting the sounds of the city to pour into our classroom. In addition to the blaring sounds of sirens and honking and yelling, the constant slamming, groaning, cracking, and noises of a bulldozer tearing up the abandoned building across the street persisted throughout the day. At times it was so loud that our instructor would stop speaking and wait till the bulldozer took leave. Would I have learned as I did if I had faced these challenges and these distractions every single day as an eight year old? I highly doubt it. It was hot, it was loud, it was disrupting, and those unique urban challenges are merely the tip of the iceberg in regards to the numerous struggles that my students will face every single day.

I spent the majority of my schooling days in a peacefully cool classroom. It was quiet and it was clean.

I find myself at times becoming more competitive than I have felt in the past. My fellow corps members are intimidating, some having already received graduate degrees, completed their undergraduate degree at Harvard or Yale, worked in the House of Representatives, or built a bridge in Costa Rica. When I hear these impressive resume statistics, I immediately feel myself wanting to show them that I, too, can be great in the classroom. Perhaps even better than them! Harvard or not! But I realized today that the fact that they may be great does not mean that I will be inherently be less great, as our mindset must entirely be focused on student achievement. Thus, in order to have the greatest positive impact on students across the city, we all must be great and continually challenge each other to improve our effectiveness. We must work as a city-wide team, and in the lovely words of Teach for America, "redefine was is possible" for our students and their future. I do not want to be better than any other corps member because I want us all to be the best teachers possible for the sake of our students. Our teaching performance is not graded on a bell curve.

Before you leave me tonight, make time for a little inspiration. Whenever I question my purpose here, Dalton Sherman is here to bring me back:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAMLOnSNwzA

And now, I must plan. The last lesson I took home with me today was that in teaching, though perhaps not always in life, you can never plan too much. A fail to plan is undoubtedly a plan to fail. Though I hope to live my life a little bit more malleably.

It's beginning to look a lot like institute!

Institute has officially arrived. There are now over 500 TFA corps members living at St. John's University from the Tulsa, Newark, Connecticut, and New York regions soon to embark on their last full night's sleep before institute begins. The countless stories I have heard tell of the terror, the sleepless nights, the crying, and the breaking of each TFA corps member's hopeful souls. Sadly I have heard none told of significant gains made or wonderful times had, but I know that is not because they did not occur. I prefer to assume that the only people telling stories are the pessimists, and I have thus decided to ignore every story I have heard thus far and experience the next five weeks with only my own set of expectations. I expect to find out what I am made of in the classroom, and what it takes to be great. I expect to be tired but purposeful. I expect to be drained but for good reason. I expect to be scared but rewarded. I expect to have a gallon sized glass of red wine on my last night.

The evening began with olympic -like Opening Ceremonies honoring the start of Institute. Though I truly hoped for ribbon dancers, I was forced to settle for a speech from Wendy Kopp, the founder of Teach for America, who first illustrated her vision in her undergraduate thesis and was only my age when she made it a reality. And I thought I was cool. She reminded us that we are not alone, there are 4100 first year corps members in 35 regions across the country. In New York alone, there are now 850 corps members, and when joined with an alumni group of over 7,000, New York City Teach for America corps members have affected the lives of over 50,000 students. Today I joined a powerful movement to close the achievement gap, and like Teach for America trains us to practice in our classrooms, there will be no excuses.

I learned today that beginning next monday, I will be teaching 6th grade math for four weeks to students in need of remediation. If I fail at this task before me, many of these students will not move on to the 7th grade. And nobody wants that on their shoulders. Whereas in my college courses, I may have read my assigned readings either because it was required of me to pass a test or write a paper, there are no tests or papers in Teach for America. There is only being a great teacher. A book well over a thousand pages was slapped into my hands today, and I intend to read every word, not because it is required to pass but because it is required for me to stand up to this role that I have chosen. It is required to be a leader in the classroom and to make significant gains in 6th grade math. And it is, admittedly, a little bit required to pass. Though I signed a contract, I seem to remember a clause that said something like "We can still fire you."

A comforting thing about the Teach for America application process is that I am surrounded by people very similar to me (fabulous people, which goes without saying.) But people that are similar, as it follows, have similar anxieties, and in the case of Teach for America Institute, similar freak outs. Each time I voice a concern, that I am questioning my abilities, that I want to succeed, or that I am lonely, there is someone here who shares my finally spoken fears. I spent the entire evening with goosebumps of inspiration and team spirit. Tonight, an alumni stated before a nervous crowd something that she felt helped her survive. It is a statement which I remind myself of a hundred times a day, each time that I question my future, but mostly when I miss my darling boyfriend:

"Remember why you came here in the first place. Keep your eyes on the prize."

I figure if this young alumni, now a founding principal of a charter school in Brooklyn, could have once shared my anxieties, my nerves, my goals, and my powerful desire for success in the classroom, and still survived with the help of that simple reminder, then I will tattoo it on my forehead.

And now, on the eve of what feels like going off to war, I will go to Sleep for America. But I will end with the last statement I scribbled on my program tonight:

"Each day I strive to be the memory of a lifetime. They are why I Teach for America."

There's a restless feeling knocking at my door today

Things are looking up. My life thus far in Teach for America has focused only upon what I had left behind and what I had left it for, which this week was a sickly combination of worry and hope. But this weekend I had my first opportunity to explore an entirely different aspect of my new beginning, one free of questions and pressure: my life as a New Yorker.

The subway maps look eerily similar to the crissing and crossing of my own potential paths inside of my head, but I somehow found them easier to navigate than the ones of my own creation, and here is where I found myself:

Under Pressure

Today was the end of Induction Week. The New York City 2009 Institute begins Sunday morning, a time of expedited teacher training, intense personal deconstruction, and a time when the only option is to put your money where your mouth was on your application. I have heard this experience described as one so overwhelming, so horrific, and so stressful that corps members have prayed that stray trucks on the Brooklyn Queens Express end it all. But I am excited. It is time to find out what I am made of in the classroom, what must be done in order to become the kind of teacher that I aim to be. Yet the kind of teacher that I aim to be is a great one, one that leads children to invest in themselves and their future, and the pressure of that goal is large. Perhaps too large. I am beginning to see that I need to let myself become that teacher, and while certainly keeping that goal in mind, not let it push me down instead of build me up. I am putting so much pressure on myself to be successful in every endeavor I am a part of at this time that it may keep me from being who I am and instead force me to be who I expect myself to be. I will remove the pressure I have put upon making my relationship work, although that will not remove the sadness. I will remove the pressure I have put upon being the best teacher in NYC, though that will not remove my inspiration.

Today as a closing reflection, we were asked to write a letter of motivation to ourselves. A letter which our program director will give to us when he sees that we are in the most need of our own dose of inspiration. As I finished writing mine, I realized that I am already in need of my own inspiration, thus before sealing the envelope I reread the letter. I told myself to believe in my abilities. I told myself to take some of the weight off my shoulders and let myself be great. I told myself to remember why I have chosen this path, why I left my friendships and my home, and that I believe in this cause. I told myself to remember the potential of myself and my students, and remember not only to have relentless pursuit, but to have relentless faith in myself. I told myself to remember all that I have overcome. I told myself to ask for help, to check pride at the door, to seek development, and to have confidence in myself.

Now I have had enough time to think. I am tired of thinking, I am ready for action.

Don't Give Up

I wonder if I am struggling more than others here. Others are excited, or scared of not securing a position in this tough market. Some are already contemplating quitting. Some seem less than committed, some extremely determined. I struggle with feeling so much that during the days it is easier allow my mind only to absorb. By only listening without further processing, I feel only inspiration from the message I am hearing. At night, when seminars finish, sessions close, and the name tag comes off, every thought put on hold for the day floats to the surface, and the overwhelmingness manifests itself in my chest and in confusion. I am scared of everything. I am scared of my relationship failing, of leaving behind my friendships, of the pressure of this task, of beginning to teach in 11 days. To calm all of these emotions, I decide to commit 100% of myself and my time to my work and student achievement. I then become scared that I won't be as good or as strong or as successful in the classroom as I want to be. There really is no way out of this fear.

And once I decide to commit everything to my life as a teacher, I worry that I won't remember everything I have learned to lead me to be my best. So, I have taken to writing everything down. Here is what I learned today:

"We're smarter because we work harder."

"Laugh. Find laughter."

"Don't give up."

"Have humility."

"Partner with parents."

"Work hard but don't work alone."

"There is nothing more profound on student achievement than their classroom teacher."

"I don't speak when you are speaking because I respect you, do you respect me?"

"That was a hot essay."

"If you're not crying every day, you're not doing it right."

Though perhaps I may have not cried yesterday, I still have 3 out of 4 days on my side. Yet the tears raise questions. What is it about this experience that is so taxing on my mind and my heart? What do I want to come of these two years? What kind of teacher will I be? Will I be strong? Will I be relentless? Will I be as successful as I strive to be? Should I be doing something differently? How will I learn to be phenomenal in the classroom? How long will it take? Will this experience get easier? Will all my current struggles get easier? Will I miss my comforts less soon? My relationship and my friendships? Will I soon see this place as my new home? Will I be able to fulfill my goals?

These questions bring tears and strain, but I do not push them away. I know that what is necessary to success in this adventure is humility. The answer is no, I will not be good. Not immediately, I must ask for and seek support and help, in all my current walks of life. My relationship, my future classroom, my friendships, my apartment seeking. I am scared of everything, but I am glad for it, for it will make me try harder. But that doesn't change the fact that I am scared of everything.

Goosebumps

"We who believe in freedom cannot rest"

- Sweet Honey in the Rock

Retractions

Our first day of induction has passed. It is a day that is meant to orient and inspire and already I have more to think about than my brain can handle at this moment, when everything is a transition and everything is new. I learned one important thing today though which has led me to print this retraction:

The goal of this blog is not only to share my story with anyone who is interested, but also to teach, to increase understanding of the situation that I am trying to fight as a member of the Teach for America corps, and to help everyone understand the meaning of the "Achievement Gap" as I have so casually referred to it. I realize that by not explaining the complicated meaning of the achievement gap and its roots, by posting all of the statistics seen a few posts below I may have in fact perpetuated dangerous societal beliefs instead of removing them. Instead of reading those statistics and feeling empathy for the students, the additional challenges that they are facing, and the unequal education that they are receiving, people without a true understanding of the achievement gap may have believed, as many in this country do, that "these kids just can't learn," thus reinforcing the faulty understandings that they may have already held. Therefore, I feel it is necessary to present these statistics with a true description of the achievement gap that led to these dangerous statistics in the first place. 

In America today, there is a wide gap in achievement that seems to fall on racial and socioeconomic lines. Here are some statistics outlining these disparities: 

• 9 year olds from low-income communities are three grade levels behind their high-income peers
• About 50 percent of them won't graduate from high school
• Students from low-income communities who do graduate from high school will be performing at an 8th grade level
• Only 1 in 10 students from low-income communities will graduate from college

(Source: National Assessment of Educational Progress, 2005)

There are several reasons that may contribute to this gap in achievement, reasons that must be understood in order for false beliefs to be discontinued. Several possible reasons are outlined by Teach for America, reasons that certainly contribute but may not be comprehensive enough as to define the true cause. Firstly, students in low-income communities face additional challenges such as a lack of health care, poor nutrition, low educational resources, etc. and the schools lack the capacity to meet these needs. Further, ideologies such as "These kids just aren't motivated," "These kids can't learn or don't want to learn," or "These parents don't care about their children's education," are prevailing and problematic. When surveyed, children in low income communities report across the board that they wish they were held to higher standards and when they are provided with strong teachers, sufficient resources, and high expectations they demonstrate the capacity to perform on par with their high-income peers. 

In the state of New York, the affluent area of Scarsdale Union Free School District reports passing rates from 2006 to 2009 consistently in the 90-100% range, often reporting 100% passing rates, while the bordering school District 7 in the Bronx, a twenty minute train ride away, reports passing scores as low as 16% and rarely above 50-60%. A passing score of 16% means that only 16% of the class was prepared to move on to the next grade level. It is undeniable that something is occurring in the low-income areas of District 7 that is leading to achievement scores so drastically below the its neighbors. However, high performing charter schools in the same low-income areas of the Bronx report passing scores from 2006 to 2009 in the 80-90% range. The children of the District 7 schools and the high-performing charter schools are the same children, living in the same apartment buildings, facing the same additional challenges, with the same financial struggles, but they are performing at very different academic levels. Something is occurring in the classrooms, something that we as Teach for America corps members seek to change and revitalize. The fact remains however, that 'high performing charter schools' are still only reporting passing scores hovering around 80 or 90%. While this is a great improvement from 16%, this is still not good enough. What about the remaining 10 to 20%? Should they get left behind when 100% of their Scarsdale peers are prepared and continuing onto the next grade level? 

This is the meaning of the achievement gap, but I ask you to visit the Teach for America website for more in depth information. Hopefully with this understanding, new light will be shed upon the statistics provided above and below.

Now on a more personal note, it has been one day, I am exhausted and yes, I have already cried. Twice. Send me coffee or send me death.

The Big Picture Backwards

Everywhere in New York is sticky. Leaves drip and even the outdoor air smells thick and warm. Today the weather changed as fast as my life did: Calm and partly cloudy to torrential rain and back, Phoenix to New York without going back. So far I have felt moments of loneliness when walking through my new home, missing pieces of me, like my nose ring and my company. I felt the real weight of the task before me and I had yet to meet someone to face it with. However, as the night went on the awkwardness eased and I realized that in this place I may be surrounded with some of the most fabulous people to date. And I still haven't even seen the skyline. 

This week, I had a thought when completing (finally) the required work that I have previously admitted to procrastinating. We were asked to read about the concept of purposeful planning, planning with an end in sight, planning that starts with a goal and ends with the first step. We are asked to understand the importance of having a direction, a destination, that hangs over every decision we make, every moment in the classroom. If we begin with the end, we will see how far we must go and what needs to be done to get there. It is planning backwards to move forward. They call it standards-based lesson planning as opposed to activity-based lesson planning. I began to wonder if this concept can be applied to life; when faced with a blank slate, decide first where you would like to arrive, what you will do when you get there, and who will be holding your hand, and then work backwards from there. Significant gains in the classroom can be made when an ambitious, measurable goal is initially established and then the steps necessary to reach it are analyzed and followed. And so, I will start at my destination: I want to be the best damn teacher this place has ever seen. I want every one of my students to be ready for the next grade level at the end of the year. I want them to go to college, and I want them to move on to tell the world how hard it was for them to get there. 

The Scare Tactic

Something to sleep on:

• While one out of 12 white students can competently read form a specialized text (such as the science section of the newspaper), only about one out of 50 Latino students and one out of 100 African American students are able to gain information from specialized text. 
• One in 30 Latino students and one in 100 African American students can complete multi-step, elementary-algebra problems that one out of 10 White students can complete comfortably. 
• Three out of 10 African American students and four out of 10 Latino students have mastered usage and computation of fractions, percents, and averages. Meanwhile, seven of 10 White students have mastered these same skills. 
• Overall, "near the end of high school, in fact, African American and Latino students have skills in both reading and mathematics that are virtually the same as those of White students in the 8th grade."

"Nearly 70 percent of inner-city and rural fourth graders cannot read, even at a basic level. It is our greatest failure as a nation. It is our failure as a people." - Former US Secretary of Education Rod Paige

Haycock, Kati. (2001). Helping All Students Achieve. Educational Leadership, 58 (6). 

New Batteries

13 days has become six. The sixth day before departure arrives with a melting pot of newly discovered fears, excitements, and borderline stress induced madness. This evening alone I arrived home before realizing that I had left my driver's license in the copy machine at Kinko's, sealed my mailing envelope before realizing that the outgoing address was now safely sealed inside of it, and spend twenty dollars on stamps when all I needed was one. More importantly, yesterday I stepped in front of an occupied car at the gas station only to feel the previous day's underwear fall out of my pant leg and onto the cement. Hopefully what my brain lacks in everyday competence it compensates for in an incredible aptitude for elementary school teaching. 

The six day before departure has arrived with, however, a revitalized energy that is buzzing within me in anticipation of the work I am soon to begin. Due to my admittedly mild procrastination of my work required to prepare for the intensive Teach for America summer institute on successful teaching, the past few days have been devoted to completing my assignments. Though it is rarely the case, I am glad that I procrastinated this work and am now receiving a crash course in inspiration just a few days before I begin this journey and inspiration is what will make or break it. The preparation work is filled with personal accounts of previous Teach for America corps members and their experiences facing and overcoming obstacles. Through their stories I have the opportunity to witness their approaches to such challenges inside and outside of the classroom, and I reminded what is expected of me as a teacher that holds the highest of expectations for each student in the classroom and settles for nothing less. I must accept no excuses, I must set ambitious goals for every student in the classroom, I must respect challenges that I have never faced, and I must do whatever it takes. I must not write off any student as unable or unwilling to learn, I must not expect motivation without inspiring it, and I must not rest until every child knows that they can reach the high goals that I will set for them. I must set high goals for myself and be relentless in my pursuit of them. I must do whatever it takes.

I am remembering why I chose this path and I am now running smoothly like a car pulling out of the gas station. There is an unidentifiable knot in my stomach waiting to untie, like I have packaged every idea and every goal and every desire into a small portion of my body to wait for the moment when I can become the greatest version of myself and that small ball of energy can feel that that moment is about to arrive. As a result of the re-inspiration found from my preparations, I have realized that over the past few months my focus upon my part in Teach for America had been lost. Following my acceptance, I compared everything in my current life to my future life in Teach for America. Nothing about LA compared; I was a part-time student serving tables to rude people, doing nothing of importance, nothing that I felt served a purpose to me or to the world. I developed tunnel-vision that ended on June 21st, in New York City. Then, as inevitably as it always does, distraction and life took over. I spent more time complaining about customers than I did voicing ideas about lesson plans and June 21st felt so far away that it seemed barely worth my thoughts. And more to blame, I finally found someone that I could depend on. Someone here in LA. My vision of the future turned from couldn't come soon enough to coming way too soon, not because of the arriving in New York part, but because of the leaving LA part. 

Though the dread of leaving LA has not been resolved, I am thankful that I have found my purpose once again through the inspired true stories of those who have attempted this quest of closing the achievement gap before me. I have stopped viewing this journey as 'two years' and instead as a lifetime. My decision to join Teach for America and the faculty of Achievement First was not a temporary decision, it was the beginning of an endless pursuit. The time is soon to arrive and I can finally feel it in my bones again, Ms. Hahn is back. 

A countdown or a ticking clock

13 days until I am homeless, carless, and broke! I wonder several times a day whether it is 13 days until a bomb explodes in my face or 13 days until I begin something that I feel I was meant to do, so I guess the only thing waiting for me in 13 days is the answer. 

I actually never wonder if I will fail. I wonder instead if I will only be able to just do it as opposed to how I want to do it, and that is with everything I have. I never wonder if I will be able to finish my commitment, but instead if I will be able to finish it knowing that I was strong enough, committed enough, creative enough, and relentless enough to make a difference. I never wonder either if I will like New York, but instead I wonder what challenges await me there. And then I realize that actually what is happening in 13 days is the opportunity to rise to the challenge. 

Hitting and Quitting LA

I am called Taylor Hahn. I am known as 22 years old, as blonde, as female. It is known by most that I am leaving Los Angeles to become a teacher in New York City as a corps member of Teach for America. It is unknown that I am generally functioning on various levels of fear that I will not be able to fulfill the responsibilities that I am soon to assume. Or if I fulfill them, that I will not fulfill them well. I proceed with the highest of expectations about this task; that I will become stronger, more determined, and more successful than Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Minds. But I am scared. Prior to late spring, the last time that I can recall my eyes filling with tears was when Edward left a desperate Bella in the forest in the second installment of the Twilight series. Now, my eyes are consistently swollen and the red lines surrounding them indicate to all that they tear on a daily basis, crying for the people I must leave, the city I must depart, and the comforts I have grown to expect over the last four years of my residence here. But still they do not cry out of fear, for the fear in me seems to be buried so deep by the raging hand to hand combat of emotions that none are able to make it out alive and to the surface to breathe.

My roommate asked me today how I was feeling about my departure and move after I told her that I had finally purchased a one-way ticket to JFK. I tried to answer and realized that I could not answer honestly because when I asked myself that question there was no answer. So I lied. I told her I felt nothing but excitement. The truth is I am experiencing that frequent phenomenon in which there is so much to feel that it is easier to feel nothing at all, and thus all possible emotions have been transferred to other accounts, and I am looking towards June 21st, the arrival of my one way ticket, with the same coolness as if I were departing on a three day fishing trip instead of an uprooting, life changing, momentous day. 

The one emotion I seem to have no difficulty feeling is the one causing the majority of the puffiness, the impending separation from a man I have grown to care deeply about. Still, it is not the move to New York that is the cause, to be particular, because I seem to be able to speak the sentence, "In three weeks I am moving," with surprising ease. These words do not make me happy or sad. I think that instead it is the realization that soon nearness to him will be impossible, and I am scared of regret. It will feel like the snapping of a wishbone where no one wins and no one's wishes come true. 

There are things however, which I can picture so clearly about my new life in NYC. It is only when I begin to doubt my abilities to succeed in closing the achievement gap that I feel like a child with an overwhelming science project that has no choice but to take home first prize. I have no choice but to succeed because this thing that I am doing is as much about me as it is about the students, the US educational system, the achievement gap, the future success of Teach for America, and those who are supporting me through this challenge. I picture myself standing before eager looking students presenting some perfectly crafted and shockingly creative lesson plan that results in never before seen success and then I open my eyes to wonder if I can do it. I wonder if I can do something that hasn't been done, something to change the reality that African Americans are half as likely as white students to earn a bachelor's degree by age 29, and Latino students are only one third as likely (Haycock, 2001). Thus, I have started this blog as a story, hoping that some may follow me through this pursuit, widen their knowledge of the educational reality in America, and be inspired to take steps of their own. 

I realize that I know nothing of what is soon to come (besides humidity) as I write this opening message, but two years from today I hope to end my words with confidence that at the very least I have learned something for America. 

Haycock, Kati. (2001). Closing the Achievement Gap. Educational Leadership, 58 (1).