What ELSE gets me through the day

So definitely the inspirational moments that I discussed last week are crucial in getting through these tough, rough days at Intenstitute, but I have other ways as well.

My favorite: countdowns.

I've always been a big believer in countdowns. They give me something to look forward too. And now, that so much is going on, I have several countdowns counting down all at once, reminding me that this is doable, and, quite frankly, that it's almost over.

Working days left of Intenstitute: 12 (of 24 --> halfway done!)
Lessons left at Intenstitute: 10 (of 16)
Lessons left to plan at Intenstitute: 7 (of 16 --> more than halfway done!)
Days left in the week: 3
Days until I go back to Vegas to celebrate the 4th with TFAers: 4
Days until July 4th, which I have off: 6
Full weeks left of Intenstitute: 2 (out of 5, or 6 if you count Induction, which means I'm almost 2/3 done with training!)

Of course I love it when Jose tells me all about his family's hometown in Mexico and his favorite ice cream truck there. And I love it when Jared, who has a total lack of motivation, comes up with a brilliant introductory paragraph for his persuasive essay basically out of nowhere. Those remind me why I'm here in the first place.

But I also love counting down until all this is over, and I can breathe again.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

Today's Anxiety Alert

Even though I'm working these incredibly long days in this incredibly hot place in this incredibly rewarding job, it's not the teaching that is making me nervous today.

It's that damned speeding ticket again. I just can't shake it off.

So my court date is next Wednesday, and Mr. Teacher-Cop told me I don't have to go if I take the magic traffic school. But I have to take traffic school by THIS Wednesday, and I just registered today, and I have two lesson plans due Monday night and busy days every day this week.

I'm taking it online, but that means I have to answer 80% of the questions about MY OWN IDENTITY correctly, and I'm worried about failing those because I have moved around so much recently, like what if they ask me what my address is and I put the wrong one because I've had literally 11 addresses since college began and I can never remember any of them.

So this means I may have to find a 24-hour notary to take my test in front of, because I really need to take care of this ASAP, because if I don't a warrant will be issued for my arrest and that's not cool. I can just imagine Mr. Teacher-Cop storming into my classroom J4 at Agua Fria and arresting me in front of my kids.

I'm loving this teacher thing; it's this being-an-adult thing that scares me.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

The Parent Trap

I knew that I would be becoming a "real teacher" during Intenstitute, but it never occurred to me that I would be doing real teacher things like calling parents during my time at Agua Fria. So when they dropped this bombshell on us last week, that we would have to make contact with our parents over the weekend, I was terrified.

Who am I to speak to these people? What do I say? "Hey, I'm about 3 weeks into my career as a teacher, I've got no real idea what I'm doing, and I've known your kid for 4 days...here's what you should do to support Jose's education!"

Turns out I couldn't even say that to Jose's mother, because she speaks Spanish and I don't. This is only one of the things I have to work around.

The parents of our students genuinely want their kids to succeed; it's part of Investing in our kids' success that we reach out to them and form a student-centered partnership to encourage learning and growth.

But I really had no clue what to say.

I called the easiest kid first. Jimmy is one of my favorites; he has a great attitude and has been through so much that it's really an inspiration and a pleasure to work with him. (And he told me he was going to Tucson to visit his great-great-great grandmother - I'm skeptical - for the weekend, so I knew he wouldn't be home and I could leave a voicemail ;)

"This number has been disconnected..."

One down, two to go.

So I called Kristy next. Kristy missed the past two days of school and if she misses one more she'll be dismissed from the program. After all, it's only 19 days long, and please believe we have a llllooooonnnggggg way to go with Kristy. Kristy's Mom and I were on the same page...I stammered and she had a thick accent, but eventually we came to the conclusion that it is really important to have Kristy in class and that I would indeed see her tomorrow. "After all, her education is very important," as Mom would say. (I use "Mom" in the teacher sense. Kristy's mom is "Mom" when we're talking about Kristy, Joseph's mom is "Mom" when we're talking about Joseph, so try to follow along)

Then came the big challenge: Jose. Now Jose is really quiet, and definitely wants to learn. But he comes from a Spanish-speaking household, and I didn't know what to expect when I called Mom. But she answered in English, and I took that to mean that I could respond in English, so there we were, embarking on a monosyllabic discourse in Simple English about the importance of progress reports and attendance. I think we understood each other; I'm not quite sure. (I know this is imperfect, and my school in the fall has a translator on the payroll, as most schools here do, so I know that I have a ways to go to improve my practice in this regard - that's another things. TFA calls teaching a "practice", just as a doctor "practices medicine" or a lawyer "practices law" - another aspect of our lingo)

I survived my first parent call; I felt like the Lindsay Lohan character in "Mean Girls" after she survives her first three-way calling attack. It was tough, but I did it.

Like everything else here, it was tough, but I did it.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

"He's loving this right now..."

I love my job.

Now there are many reasons why I am saying this. Yeah, I definitely believe in the mission. Yeah, I love the TFAers and everyone I work with. Yeah, I love Arizona. But I REALLY love acting the part.

I love pushing a projector around the campus and having dry-erase ink stains on my hands.

I love how I think that Shakespeare must have been talking about the teaching profession when he said that "All the world's a stage" since we are literally acting and presenting all the time.

I love that kids have to call me Mr. Boyle and that they haven't figured out that I'm about 6 days older than they are and that they haven't figured out that they don't really have to listen to me.

I love that I can parade around campus with my sunglasses and my Starbucks and make fun comments about the students with my other teacher friends. (Three girls in Bump-its and eye shadow walk by and one of my bosses snickers and says "Ha, I hope those three will be in the same class...those princesses will be really fun to deal with")

It's like we're all in this amazing club...it's a great power trip. Of course I love that I'm making an impact in my work...but I also love that I have genuine power and responsibilities. No paper-pushing for me. I'm busy with my gradebook and making copies and writing hall passes.

I love my job.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

"A desert version of South Beach"

Scottsdale would be easy to hate. It's one of the richest suburbs in the country, it has awesome schools, it's the epitome of the New West.

But it's just so damn awesome.

We always compare the school districts where Corps Members are placed with the Scottsdale schools. "Well, only 40% of 3rd graders i the Roosevelt District can read, imagine if they were born in Scottsdale..." type deals. And it's Tempe's northern neighbor, kind of looking down at the rabble-rousing college kids who live beyond it's privileged borders.

But I went their the other day, and really enjoyed it.

(Side Note: I knew I would. It's totally my kind of place. But it's really fun to get caught up in the anti-suburbia frenzy when I'm working in a neighborhood plagued by gang violence)

There's a nice "waterfront" along an intermittent stream, a ton of great restaurants and resorts, and the heart of the Phoenix (and Southwestern) club scene. Every mall is like the Towson Town Center Luxury Wing. It's also cougar central...fifty-five never looked so good.

It bills itself as the "Most Western Town in the West", which makes no sense since it has a Saks and a Nordstrom and seven five-star resorts on one street (Camelback Road). But at least they deck these places out in fake adobe and statues of bucking broncos, so the illusion kind of works.

I haven't hit up the club scene there yet; I'll stick to my old stand-bys in the college town of Tempe while I'm living here for the summer and make time to explore during the year, when I have the time and cash to do so.

But it was really nice to go to a great restaurant, watch the World Cup (Ghana sucks) game in a pretty posh atmosphere, and then take a break from fixing all of the world's educational ills and just live the life of a yuppy international business major again.

I'm sure I'll be back soon.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

St. Wendy

As some of you know, TFA was born as a senior thesis at Princeton University in 1989, the brainchild of one Wendy Kopp. Wendy is as TFAmous as it gets; basically, all 177 of us in the Phoenix Corps would be unemployed without her.

Her writing is powerful, her story is inspirational. She is truly one of the great social entrepreneurs of all time. (PS: one of my 9th graders wants to be an entrepreneur, and spelled it correctly the other day...this was my concentration in college and I can't even spell it correctly without the help of spell check)

We had our Institute Kick-Off last Wednesday in Scottsdale; it was a huge pep rally with inspirational stories and montages about how awesome and effective we all will be. Rumors were swirling that Wendy Kopp herself would be our keynote speaker. Wendy Kopp herself! How exciting! We were all preparing to be wowed by her awesomeness and obvious gift at public speaking.

But she was super awkward. Like, fumbling over simple phrases, forgetting where she was, mumbling, shifting her feet, not making eye contact, those kinds of things. Now, I had heard this before, that she was really awkward in person; her 2006 graduation speech at UNC was widely panned. But I thought that maybe in a room full of her acolytes and apologists, she would shine like a rock star.

No, not quite. After a disappointing speech which we nonetheless rewarded with a standing ovation, none of less feeling wowed and inspired by her mere presence. But just looking at TFA, and how it started in a dorm room in Jersey and now has 40,000 alumni working to close the achievement gap all across the country, you still can't help being inspired by the message, if not by the messenger.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

Modern Marvels

I know I've talked about this a lot, but it is just so great to hear from everyone every once in a while, either through texts, or Facebook, or email, or a phone call, or mail, or BBM, or Twitter, or on the comments on this blog! It really makes it easier to get through the long days when I get to connect to the non-TFA outside world.

So keep it up guys!

And also, just imagine how much harder it would be if those conveniences didn't exist. I was driving in Scottsdale the other day and passed a marker about the old Pony Express and it got me thinking. It is just so easy now to stay in touch; just the instantaneous click of a mouse or ringing of the phone can put you in contact with someone halfway around the world. I can't imagine moving out here without a cell phone or the Internet; it would just be so lonely.

So communication is awesome.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

What gets me through the day?

I work 16-hour days 6 days a week. I am on my feet all day, it is 11o degrees. I don't get enough food, sleep, or exercise.

But when Jimmy, who had brain cancer last year, can master how to use a dictionary AND a thesaurus and know WHY to use each one, I can get through the day.

And when Melanie, the quiet girl who sits in the back and wants to be a veterinarian and whose Mom is her hero, who got an astonishing 85% on the pre-test, says "I like your tie, Mr. Boyle," I can get through the day.

Today was a good day.

"These kids are in trouble...we're on our way!"

We rode the bus in almost silence yesterday morning on the way to Agua Fria...the only interruption was my friend Leah playing "Peaches and Cream" and shouting "These kids are in trouble...we're on our way!"

So there I am, walking into J4 at Agua Fria, about to embark on the adventure that will be my new career, with no idea really what to do or what to expect.

I guess that's not completely fair; I did have two weeks of intense training before coming into the classroom. But no amount of theory can prepare one for that first day, and so it was with me.

But I was incredibly excited. I hadn't been able to sleep the the night before, even though I was legit exhausted; I was just too too excited. We set up our classroom in the first hour; our theme is "Summer Success Super Stars", so we have a "Star Chart" for rules and consequences and our class rewards are "Starbucks" haha clever, get it? A little corny, but hopefully the kids will buy into it. We want to send the message that to be a "Super Star" like their heroes, they need to succeed in Summer Success, then in high school, then in college, and then down the road. It's a stretch, but just getting some encouragement and simply telling these kids they can succeed is really paying off.

I am an afternoon teacher, so I had a planning session before I actually taught. I couldn't concentrate at all...there was just too much to think about. But there we go, at 9:25 AM, it was my turn to start...

"Good morning y'all! My name is Mr. Boyle and I will be one of your English teachers this summer..." (I'm loving the new "teacher name" I have acquired...we all have to refer to each other by these names during the day, and it's super fun, but actually a challenge to keep everyone's last name straight)

We presented our class rules...getting these kids to participate was like pulling teeth. Literally, no one would talk. But one inspiring moment was when our kids shared their answers to a survey we gave them as a get-to-know-you activity on who their heroes were. It was really interesting to see what these kids have been through, and what I was up against.

Jimmy's heroes were his father and "hot nurses". Sounds funny, and kids laughed (don't worry, I set them straight and they shut up - we have a very very well-behaved classroom), but turns out that Jimmy had cancer last year and beat it and now is looking forward to high school.

Jonathan's hero is his mother. Why? For getting him out of "gang life". He has a gang symbol tatooed on his left hand and scored a 28% on our reading assessment.

Jose's mother lost a hand in a factory accident; Jared's brother has severe asthma and has attempted suicide a few times. It's humbling to work with these kids who have been through so much and try my best to help them overcome their struggles and work towards giving them better opportunities through a better education.

And then there's Melissa, who thinks she is way too cool for school and refuses to participate in any activities and wears a Bump-It in her hair. In fact, kids in general in Arizona dress a LOT different than kids at Towson High where I went to school in Baltimore. I saw no Polo, Lacoste, Sperrys, Rainbows, or college apparel - these were staples in my high school. There was a lot of makeup on the girls, who all looked ridiculous with their big hair and first-time attempts at eyeliner; there was a lot of skater or hipster clothes on the guys, who look equally ludicrous.

So the first day went pretty smoothly, considering all I did was getting-to-know-you games and give a test.

The second day is what I consider to be my actual first day as a teacher. I barely slept the night before, because of the two rough draft lesson plans I had due Tuesday morning, and I slept through breakfast. And I was a complete ball of nerves when it was time for my lesson.

The objective was a simple one: figuring out the meanings of new words via context clues. I think I learned how to do this in 3rd grade; apparently my kids did, too, because they all got a 100% on that question on the pre-assessment. So, in a way, it was a great thing for me to start on, since it wouldn't be too challenging of an objective.

Uh oh. My lesson called for the use of an overhead projector, and of course J4 doesn't have a working projector. Panic attack!

So I just stole one from J5. A teacher's motto is "beg, borrow, and steal".

The lesson went really well. No curveball questions, although most of the kids were done really early, so I felt like a fool when they told me it was an easy lesson. But I had this whole big schtick about the kids being detectives searching for the meanings of unknown words, and I think they bought it enough.

And then I graded the assessments - 97% mastery of the objective. YESSSS!!!!!!!

So those were the first two days of my new career; so much went on, and it seems like it was already so long ago, that I am sure I didn't include all of it here. But smooth sailing thus far.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

AGUA! FRIA! BIG IDEA...

Hey y'all!

The past few days have been super hectic - sorry I haven't been updating over the past few days!

So teaching has begun...and I love it. Although I haven't ever worked harder in my entire life, I am really enjoying my work, and I'm super pumped for my career ahead of me.

Before I get into actually describing my first two days of teaching, I want to set the scene (9th Grade Summer Success Objective #R4 --> SWBAT identify the setting of a story) for Agua Fria High School.

Agua Fria was built in 1955, and you can tell. It's also a typical Arizona school - which means it's outdoors. There are a few buildings scattered around the campus, surrounding outdoor courtyards that are landscaped to look like mini-deserts. There is a cactus garden in front of my classroom.

It's way out in the boonies in the East Valley, the poorer, faster-growing part of the Phoenix Metropolitan Area. The school as a whole performs adequately, but some students, including Hispanic and English Language Learners, are not performing up to par.

I'm teaching the Summer Success program - a bridge program for rising 9th graders who want a taste of high school before the fall begins, or who need some remedial skills before progressing to 9th grade.

There are about 150 TFAers working at Agua Fria - we are an army. Last week at Opening Ceremonies, we got up and shouted our Agua Fria cheer - and the Scottsdale Performing Arts Center was shaking by the end of it...here it is!

AGUA FRIA

BIG IDEA

WRAP UP THE (achievement) GAP LIKE A BIG TORTILLA (topical for the community)

AGUA FRIA

9TH GRADE TO SEEN-YAS

HERE'S OUT YOU SPELL OUT ACHIEVEMENT

A-G-U-HEY F-R-I-HEY (X3)

Maybe how awesome the cheer is doesn't come across in a blog entry.

So that's where I spend my days, from 6:50 AM to 4:20 PM. Now on to the main event...the first two days! More to come in the next entries, but picture me walking out of the desert courtyard and into my classroom at 6:30 yesterday morning...

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

You Know You're Not in the South Anymore When...

I keep reiterating to people that the Southwest is a different world. The weather, the landscape, it's all very different. And I really do love it here.

But I miss the South. I can already tell that I'll become one of those unhappily displaced (pseudo-)Southerners who carry around bottles of ranch dressing in case of sauce emergencies. I just need my ranch.

And I definitely will continue to say "y'all" as much as possible. I am occasionally made fun of, but whatever. I appreciate the convenience of the word.

One thing that isn't very different between Arizona and the South is that people in both places are very friendly. However, the big difference is in their politeness. People in the South are friendly AND polite; people in Arizona are just friendly. I kind of miss the politeness aspect.

One thing that is definitely better in this part of the country is the total lack of humidity. If it were this hot back home, it'd be like a swamp. I mean, I still sweat here, just not as overwhelmingly as back East.

But I still miss the South, and that's why I made our roadtrip go a few days out of our way to drive through South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, and Arkansas.

Those of you who are back in the South, send me your stories! I wanna keep it in my mind.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

My Lover, Janet

I'm in love with a 60-year-old truck driver named Janet.

She's my favorite bus driver to and from Agua Fria High; in fact, she's everyone's favorite bus driver, so I have to run to catch her bus each morning and afternoon to get myself a seat.

Janet's skin and voice are both leathery. The first time I heard this, I was laying back, looking forward to a nice post-Institute nap. And then, over the loudspeaker, comes a voice as tarry as a cigarette butt: "I drove truck back in Wisconsin for thirteen years...does anyone read French?"

I knew then that I was in for a treat.

Turns out Janet treats her job as if she were an amateur tour guide. She knows more about the Phoenix Metropolitan Area than anyone. For example, here are some highlights from Vegetation Day:

"Anything can grow in Arizona...except strawberries. This is because strawberries are stubborn."

"Koalas only eat 13 different kinds of leaves."

How she comes across these gems is beyond me.

Sometimes, she gets a little sassy. If you ask her about something, say, the cornfields in downtown Phoenix, she'll respond with something like "I'm spreading out my facts through the summer, so you'll just have to wait for that one."

But her beauty overcomes all, and we're madly in love. Although there was the one time Janet "went rogue" and decided to take us off of the regular route to show us downtown Tempe (which is awesome). This was also the day that the air conditioning on her bus (I call it the J Truck but this has not yet caught on with others) broke. It was like everyone's own miniature version of Hell, listening to Janet blather on about Mill Avenue and its original landowners as the temperatures inside the bus approached 125 degrees.

She hasn't caught on that we're lovers yet, but given some time, I think she'll come around. But it's awesome that after a stressful day at Institute I can lay back, relax, and enjoy Janet's pearls of wisdom ("Ladies, if you're going hiking this weekend, I recommend wearing lots of lotions [?]. It's gonna be a hot one.")

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

What am I Doing?

This isn't an "AAAHHHHHH I AM SO STRESSED OUT WHAT AM I DOING??!?!?!?!?" post. It's more of an explanation of exactly what it is that I am doing this summer so y'all know what I'm talking about when I talk about TFA Institute and understand why I go to bed at 10:45 every night.

So 97% percent of TFA Corps Members don't have an education degree, and TFA has one summer to get us all up to speed about how to become effective teachers in low-income communities. Basically, we learn in 5 weeks some of what education majors learn in 4 years. So you can think of Institute as Teach Boot Camp. We call it "Intenstitute".

A normal day is like this:

Wake up at 5 AM, shower, get into professional clothes (VERY different meaning in Arizona than back East), eat breakfast (haven't done that in 5 years), and then hop on a bus which leaves at 6:15 for Agua Fria High School, which is where I will be student teaching this summer.

I'm teaching 9th Grade Success English; basically this is a high school-prep English crash course for 8th graders who feel they need more help adjusting to high school or were forced to come here by the state. Students arrive next Monday (terrifying), so until then we have been in 9-hour days of sessions on how to lesson plan, manage a classroom without reverting to corporal punishment, and diversity training. We get about 20 minutes to break for lunch, and then the bus leaves Agua Fria at 4:15 to head back to Tempe.

By this point I'm usually starving, so I head straight to dinner at the ASU cafeterias. The food is wonderful here; I forgot how great dorm food was. Or at least how great it is when you can't afford to eat anywhere else. But I've always been a big fan of fast food/processed food/institutional food anyways.

The rest of the night consists of lesson planning, management planning, or whatever other homework there might be, and that usually takes a few hours. I then go to them gym for an hour (best part of the day), call someone from home (it's my way to escape all this - you're lucky if you win the Peter-calls-you lottery!), and try to be in bed by 10:45 (I always fail at this) in order to start it all over again the next day.

I worked a 16-hour day on Wednesday. That was tough.

Of course this all changes next week when the kids arrive. Actually, my whole life changes next week when the kids arrive.

When kids are in the classroom, I team-teach with 3 other TFAers, and we each present a lesson. Arizona state law states that a certified teacher must be in every classroom at all times, so that person is supposed to act as out Faculty Mentor, although since Arizona has run out of money and can't afford to hire any more Faculty Mentors, I was "emergency certified" as a teacher last week (terrifying!) and will be our group's FM (The state of Arizona really needs to raise it's teaching standards).

We'll get a ton of feedback from the Institute staff (there are 30 of them at my school site), and we're expected to immediately implement that feedback in our classrooms.

I'm just hoping the kids don't burn the damn building down.

(Imagine the Headline: "Idealistic New Teachers Fall Victim to Vicious Mob of Pubescent Arsonists at Agua Fria High")

We're also expected to have 100% of our kids pass their final exam this summer. And I have 19 instructional days to do this. The clock is ticking and I have my work cut out for me.

So that's why I'm super-stressed, caffeine-crazed, and hungry Monday-Friday and that's also why I'm a booze-fueled mess on Friday nights. But tonight I'm bone tired and am gonna try and get some rest tonight in order to power through and get all my work done tomorrow so I can go to happy hour all week next week. Simple pleasures.

They say TFA Institute is like pledging a frat: it's the most fun you'll never want to have again. And it is fun. The people are awesome, the nights out are epic, and everyone's in the same boat, willing to help each other out.

The bottom line is that I've never worked harder in my life, but I'm also really enjoying myself. Wrap your head around that one...I still can't figure it out.

So that's what I'm doing this summer. Please keep in touch (thanks to everyone who has reached out these past few weeks - it really helps me power through a tough day), and I miss everyone!

Only 19 more working days of Institute left.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

My New Digs

SO PUMPED TODAY because my roommate Zach (who is also from Baltimore, actually) and I put down a deposit on an apartment RIGHT DOWNTOWN in the wonderful city of Phoenix. We're living at the Met, which is called the TFA Dorm because so many of us live there. It's got all the typical stuff for Arizona - pool, covered parking, dry cleaning, gym, etc. And since we got there kind of late, we had to get the "upgraded" slightly-more-expensive apartment, which has stainless steel appliances, a private balcony, oak cabinets and flooring, and a fireplace. What the hell I will do with a fireplace in Arizona, I'm not sure.

Provided my credit check goes through (I can't imagine it wouldn't, but my anxiety is really flaring because of this), we'll be moving in there on July 10th - can't wait.

Here's the website of the place so y'all can check it out and feel super envious: http://themetapartmenthomes.com/index/the_met

So that's crossed off of my 44-item to-do list. One less thing.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

How to Be TFAmous

So TFA has it's own subculture, and I realize that those of you who haven't drank the TFA Kool-Aid could get lost in all of the acronyms and references that I make. Hell, sometimes I get lost in all of it as well.

First off, TFA has a ridiculous number of acronyms. A typical sentence: "Peter, could you please share out some reflections to your CMA on how it was to transition from a CCC role to becoming a CM? You can find some closed notes to help you do this on page 516 of your BARB, and it will be due according to the date on your WIDWATW."

That last one, the WIDWATW, stands for "What is due, when, and to whom." Other people call it a "calendar." I call it a "wigwam."

It's interesting trying to indoctrinate myself into all of the jargon; hopefully I won't get too caught up in all of that when I'm blogging (which I've loved doing so far, even though the only person reading this right now is myself, since I haven't send out the address to anyone yet...woops.) But that's a key component of the culture here, is getting everyone indoctrinated into all of this, so what the hell, it's fun to use ridiculous stuff like WIDWATW and BARB (Big-Ass/Awesome Red Book) all the time.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

TGIF

I know that this is a day late, but it's still super relevant.

I've never been happier that it's the weekend before in my whole life.

After five grueling 12-hour workdays, I can relax! Last night we hit the Tempe bar scene pretty hard. Highlights include singing "Sweet Caroline" at the top of my lungs walking over to the bars, taking pictures of the "Palmetto flag" (AKA the South Carolina crescent moon and palm trees) because the night was so beautiful, and partying with about 100 TFAers at The Vine, which is the bar right across the street from our dorms that we take over every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

I'm planning on working ALL DAY tomorrow to try and get a step ahead of everything, but now it's time to head out to the pool and get some pretty brown skin!

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

What's the Worst Thing You Hate About TFA?

The worst thing I hate is that TFA ends sentences in prepositions.

Example:

"Work on this with a partner for three minutes; then we're going to share OUT."

"Who wants to close us OUT?"

"Peter, could you please read this OUT?"

That's just improper grammar.

Sweet Home Arizona

When I got my haircut before I left on my epic roadtrip out to my new home in AZ, my haircutter asked "Have you always wanted to live in the Midwest?"

I didn't have the heart to correct her geographical misconceptions. But thinking about it, no, I have not always wanted to live in the SOUTHWEST. I never, actually, saw myself living out here.

But now that I am here, I couldn't be happier that the TFA gods placed me four hours from the Mexican border in the Valley of the Sun.

It's definitely different here. I now know what "dry heat" feels like (hint: an oven) and I know what a "western" accent sounds like (hint: listen to John McCain). It's literally sunny ALL the time, and there is almost no humidity, which makes the heat bearable. In fact, the sun is so strong here that you only have to stand outside for 15 minutes each day to get a tan. This is perfect for my busy schedule...in no time at all I will have the pretty brown skin (inside joke alert) that I have always wanted.

It's also beautiful here, like nothing I've ever seen. And Phoenix isn't even supposed to be the prettiest part...Flagstaff and Tucson are supposed to be unreal.

It's kind of bizarre, actually. The freeways and parks and left as unspoiled desert; saguaros and palos verdes line the streets. As I mentioned in a previously entry, the endless desert is gorgeous, stretching in all directions. But breaking through the vastness are the chains of mountains that ring around the Valley, the most beautiful of which is the famous Camelback, which, according to someone with a little too much imagination, looks like a camel resting at a desert oasis. Umm...I just see a red mountain when I look at it. But there's something soothing about looking out of my window and seeing mountains in the distance every morning. It's like your protected from everything; it's super hard to explain, but they're beautiful and I like them. (Note to self: start hiking when it cools down).

In fact, my views of the mountains are unobstructed because of an architectural quirk: it would be unreasonably expensive to pump air conditioning to the highest floors of skyscrapers here, since heat rises and all. Thus, there aren't really many skyscrapers here. You'd have no idea that Phoenix is America's fifth-largest city; there's barely any skyline to speak of. But, this way, everyone has a clear view of the Estrella, Camelback, Ahwatukee, and other ranges that circle the city. Tradition here states that each house will be the same level as the one next to it, so as not to block your neighbor's view of the mountains and desert.

The mountain ranges circle a massive valley, the Valley of the Sun. Phoenix and its 1.5 million inhabitants lie at the center, circled by rings and rings of suburbs. Because almost everything is one story, there is massive suburban sprawl here. There are only really 12 towns in the whole 3.5 million person Valley: Phoenix, Mesa, Glendale, Scottsdale, Tempe, Peoria, Surprise, Goodyear, Avondale, Chandler, Gilbert, and Buckeye. In fact, Mesa, Phoenix's largest suburb, is larger than Oakland, St. Louis, or Miami. Tempe, the "college town" where I am living this summer, has 150,000 people. The area is so big, and has grown so fast (AZ is the 2nd-fastest-growing state, besides those Mormons up in Utah), that zoning is a foreign concept here. The streets are laid out in a helpful, if sprawling grid, but one block on one of the main streets may have a school, a natural gas plant, a freeway exit, a taqueria, an apartment complex, and a strip club. The Maricopa County Zoning Board dropped the ball bigtime.

Perhaps it's the mountains that cut off 2/3 of the state's population from the rest of civilization, but Arizona is like a different world. And you know you're in this altered reality immediately after you cross over the Hoover Dam from Nevada and the big welcoming sign says "IN ARIZONA, THE TIME IS..." Arizona doesn't *do* daylight savings time. What would we do with another hour of daylight in the summer? Sweat some more? I kind of like that about this state; people here do there own thing, and don't really give a damn what the rest of the region, country, or world think. That's pretty ballsy, if you ask me, considering what Arizona's legislature has been running around doing recently (more to come on this later).

But on that subject, politics and elections are HUGE here. There are literally yard signs on every lawn ("lawn" means the plot of desert in front of your house), campaign commercials in English and Spanish on every radio and TV station all the time, and people actually ask about politics in passing. Needless to say, as a politics nerd, I'm loving it. However, the state of the state is actually pretty bleak. People daily will tell me "This state is NOT doing well." The issues that Arizona faces on a micro scale (budget, immigration, education, an aging population, the housing crisis that crippled the state's economy) are the issues this country will have to face on the federal level if we want to move forward. And Arizona is proving to be a crucible for those issues, a policy testing-ground for controversy. It's an interesting time to be here.

I'm also adopting some uniquely Western idiosyncrasies. I don't call big roads "highways" anymore; I drive on "freeways". And I don't say "I-10" or "Route 202" anymore; I call those roads "the 10" or "the 202". I never realized Westerners spoke differently, but I've been amazed at how quickly I've picked up some of these Westernisms. But I'll never stop saying y'all, no matter how much I get made fun of.

The thing about Phoenix, and many of the western states, is that everyone here comes from somewhere else, be it California, Mexico, or "Back East". Very very few people here are native Arizonans. Maybe that's why this state has a lot of guts - it takes balls to pick up and move to a completely and utterly new place.

But that's what I did and that's what millions of other Arizonans did, and we're all loving it here.

Come and visit me soon! But bring lots of water - I've been averaging a gallon a day.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

Getting to Know You Games, for Old People

So after I got my speeding ticket, I trudged on over to Phoenix at the lowly speed of 65 MPH. But I did finally make it in time, checked myself into the Marriott, and passed out, not really knowing what would happen the next day at Induction.

Induction is the feel-good get-to-know-you part of TFA training. It was fun; to be honest, it was just like those first few weeks of freshman year all over again. Lots of meeting (and re-meeting, since, let's face it, a lot of the "meeting" happens after large quantities of booze have been consumed) new people, lots of going out, lots of 12-hour days where you learn about what it means to be in TFA and how much we love diversity and hate the achievement gap.

It's just a big, fun, feel-good fest.

However, there are 177 of us in the 2010 Phoenix TFA Corps. How in the world are you supposed to find your best friends, spouse(s) [as a TFA teacher you are more than 50% likely to meet your future spouse during Induction Week], roommates, and where you want to live in 5 days? It's just overwhelming to do all of those things, move into a new city, figure out how to live on a college campus again (I'm staying at Arizona State University - my grad school - for the next month), and sit through 9 hours of seminars all day - in suits - in the 110 degree heat. (Although, conveniently, "suit" in Arizona means "no tie and maybe flip flops some days" - I love this place)

And in that sense, it really was like those first few days of freshman year - I loved them, had a blast, met awesome people...but I wouldn't want to do it over again. O-ver-whelm-ing.

But, like I said, we did really cool things. For example, the Diamondbacks (that's Arizona's sub-par baseball team with a SICK stadium downtown) are a major TFA Phoenix sponsor, so we got to go to a baseball game and sit in the party suites and booze it up and watch our team lose miserably to the St. Louis Cardinals (congrats to Mr. Bruer and his hometown).

And the TFA alums and current Corps members made us amazing 3-course homemade dinners and showed us cool restaurants and bars all over the Valley of the Sun. And the nights - the nights were awesome. Tempe has a really cool bar scene, centered around Mill Avenue, which is a classed-up western version of Carolina's Franklin Street, with a spray-tan and on steroids. Conveniently, there is also a bar, called the Vine, that has become the TFA hangout - which is right across the street from our dorms.

So those are my reflections on my first few days of training. And although I said I wouldn't want to do them again, I kind of miss that collegial, laid-back atmosphere, with frisbee on the Quad with strangers and late night walks home from the bars with your new best friends. I've now started Institute, the more intense, big, bad older brother of Induction. Institute is when people drop out of TFA. Institute is when they throw you into a classroom. Institute is where you have to crawl under your desk and cry.

So, at this point, of COURSE I would rather be doing getting to know you games than Institute. Induction, come back!!

On the Over-Zealousness of the Arizona State Highway Patrol

OK, so the previous two entries are super serious. This is not what my email updates are known for. Although I will definitely need some of that sober and solemn self-reflection over the next two years, we all know that that isn't all that my life is about; hopefully this entry will break from that mold (or is it mould?) and make y'all smile.

So while I'll save reflections on the amazing, awesome, challenging, yet wonderful roadtrip that led me to this point for another day, let me set the scene:

It's 7:17 PM on last Monday, June 7th, 2010. It's about 107 degrees, and has cooled off from the day's high of 116. I'm driving down US Highway 93 in the Mojave Desert in Yavapai County, Arizona. I'm alone; it's just me and country radio, and it feels like I'm flying down the highway. All I see in front of me is the faint black ribbon of highway stretching for the foreseeable future in front of me, slowly sloping down to the Valley of the Sun and my new home in Phoenix. To my left and right, the beautiful desert stretches as far I can see, painted as if by the hand of God in burnt orange and crimson, the saguaros stretching their arms towards the heavens, yearning for precious sips of rain to fall from the sky. Behind me is Las Vegas, Hoover Dam, my three best friends, and the setting sun.

As you can tell by my (admittedly over-the-top) imagery, it was incredibly peaceful, a wonderful moment for self-reflection.

So while I was busily deciding what effusive adjectives I could use to describe the Mojave to you all and reflecting to myself, I completely lost track of my speed. I do this frequently; I'm known for my erratic, at best, reckless, at worst, driving tendencies. And now that I drive an '07 Highlander and not a '97 MomMobile, this problem has been exacerbated.

So I had no idea I was going upwards of 90 MPH. But nor do I feel like this speed was inappropriate, given the conditions; I challenge anyone traveling in the desert to not speed through it. You just get so caught up in it, and, quite frankly, so damn thirsty, that speed just happens.

While I was caught up in all of this, I flew (my wheels probably did go off the ground for a little bit, considering my speed as I crested the hill behind which Mr. Teacher-Cop was hiding) through the Mojave.

And over the aforementioned hill, waiting for what must have been hours, as I was the only car on the road that Monday, for an out-of-state license plate to pass by, was Mr. Teacher-Cop.

I immediately knew I was fucked. However, I decided to slow down to the (for me) ungodly, but for Arizona, quite natural, speed of 65 MPH (WHO DRIVES THE SPEED LIMIT, WTF?). I'm thinking, maybe I'll fool him, maybe he'll just give me a warning, maybe he didn't see me...all the things I always think, all the things we all think, when we speed by cops.

He follows me for about 4 minutes; I think I'm in the clear.

And just as a breathe a sigh of relief, there go the lights, the sirens, the whole nine.

Damn.

I pull over...portions of the exchange between myself and Mr. Teacher-Cop follow:

"Just so you know, sir, my seatbelt has been fastened for like hours now, I just took it off now."

"Umm...I saw that. So...how fast were you going there?"
"65."

"Well, I gotcha at 90. You know the speed limit's 65 here?"

"I just got real caught up in the desert sir, it's my first time out here, I'm trying to make it to Phoenix before dark, my maintenance light is on..." [I'm grabbing for straws here, pulling out all the stops...]

"Whatcha doin' out in Arizona...Maryland plates, you sure are far from home."

"Actually, I'm moving here...[and here's where I explain why I'm in Arizona in the first place]"

"Oh, I've always wanted to be a teacher! I really admire the work you do, blah blah blah, I might quit my job and teach elementary school over in Prescott, I've always wanted to teach 3rd grade, etc."

I'm thinking, YES! I got him! I'm getting off for sure! I'm thinking Mr. Teacher-Cop and I have a real bond.
"That's great, I've always wanted to teach, too!" (really proud of myself here)

"Wonderful! Oh, but by the way, I'm gonna have to cite you for that, can I see your license and registration please?"

You've GOT to be kidding me.

Now, an aside. Arizona is very serious about it's laws. The fine for jaywalking is $350 and zealously enforced; no one jaywalks. The penalty for a DUI is 10 days in jail, no bail, no appeal (how this is constitutional, I'll never know, but maybe I'm missing something); I saw not one, not two, but 4 cops pull over a drunk in Tempe the other night as I walked home from the bars. Poor fool. Hope he had nothing good to do for 10 days.

There are speed cameras everywhere, here, too. So EVERYONE drives the speed limit. I thought freedom-loving libertarian westerners would say fuck speed limits and drive however the hell fast they please. But noooooooooooooo, they just lloooovvveee their speed cameras on the freeways. So no one, besides me, apparently, speeds. In Maryland, I've been passed on the right while going 55 in a 35 zone, and this is normal. In Arizona, anything above 34 in a 35 zone is considered unsafe, ungodly, and inappropriate. Weird.

BUT, it was my lucky break. Turns out, the Arizona legislature, in its bizarrely misguided wisdom, has decided that in this state, if you are cited for driving between 86 and 90 MPH in a 65 zone, you can have the ticket dismissed by completing traffic school. It's as if the ticket never happened. If you drive below 85, or above 91, you go to court. But there is a magic little window here, and I found it, and I'm taking advantage of it.

So Defensive Driving School, here I come. I'm sure those 4.25 hours on Saturday afternoon will be my most educational training I've received thus far during Teach for America Institute. Can't wait.

That's just one of my kinda funny stories from recently; recounting the lighter moments in life definitely helps me cope, so expect more to come!

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

Why I Went Crazy and Moved to the 115 Degree Desert

Today it was about 110 degrees in the shade here in Arizona. I was in a somewhat dilapidated high school (Agua Fria High School, home of the Owls) out in the 'burbs in the West Valley, barely conscious, sitting through 12 hours (my days start at 5 AM when I wake up and end at 5 PM when we get back to the ASU dorms) of educational sessions and seminars.

Basically, I'm learning how to be a teacher in 5 weeks. A normal person takes 4 years to do this.

And when I am done the 12+ hours days of Institute, what next? Then I move into my permanent classroom at Pioneer Preparatory School, in the Maryvale neighborhood of western Phoenix. To quote Wikipedia (which I will never let my students do but which saved my ass in college), "Since the 1980s, Maryvale had seen a significant growth in violent crime and gang membership. As with other maligned sections of Phoenix, many gangs took advantage of the area's open-air apartment complexes to set up enclosed drug markets that became extremely dangerous and difficult for police to monitor...[a] shift in police philosophy included embedding Phoenix Gang Unit officers in the [neighborhood], placing more sophisticated resources regularly in what one crime analysis described as 'an area saturated with gang members.' "

This is what my students will deal with every day; this is what I have to compete against for their attention.

Why am I here?

The education gap in Arizona is huge. Arizona traditionally ranks in the bottom 5 states in all academic measures; only California, Nevada, Mississippi, and the District of Columbia have worse test scores. Only 5% of 9th graders who enter Arizona public high schools graduate college 8 years later.

The problem is big. And the resources to fix it are small. Pitifully so. The state budget gap was so large last year that all stimulus money had to be used to pay off existing debt. The foreclosure crisis hit Arizona hard; I've seen nice 4-bedroom homes in tony Mesa or north Phoenix on the market for about $60,000. The money evaporated when the housing bubble burst, and the state is reeling from the results.

The expectations are low. Standards for Arizona teachers, based on passing teacher assessment scores, are among the lowest in the nation (tied with Oregon), and standards for students are much, much lower.

I'm not a teacher. But I've been blessed to have had damn good ones over the past 21 years. And I've achieved because of them, and because of odds that were stacked drastically in my favor. I've always lived in the right neighborhoods, gone to the right schools, and have been gifted with parents willing, and able, to do anything to help me succeed.

Not all kids have those opportunities, or the odds in their favor; few of the kids in Maryvale do. If they achieve, it's in spite of the odds, not because of them (I can't take credit for that line...I know I read it somewhere, but I firmly believe it nonetheless).

I can't sit idly by and let my talents and passion rot in a cubicle somewhere while the cycle of low expectations and the vicious injustice of the educational achievement gap eat neighborhoods like Maryvale alive. I've had great opportunities in my life; had I been born about a half mile south on Charles Street in Baltimore City instead of Baltimore County, that probably wouldn't have been true. But it is, and it's time that I pay it forward, put my gifts, passions, and talents to good use, and become part of a movement.

That's why I joined Teach for America - I believe I have what it takes to become not a good teacher, but a great teacher, like the ones I had, and the ones that all kids, rich, poor, white, black, brown, or something in between, deserve.

So why am I here? Because I can't not be.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb

Purposes

I guess you could say that I aspire to be the Amy Adams character in "Julie & Julia", even though I can't stand Amy Adams and how perky she is. But I do like how, as she was doing something challenging and fulfilling, she used her blog to really self-reflect and find purpose.

So I guess the purpose of this blog is to serve as my self-reflection; to serve as a checkpoint for my sanity; to serve as my vent, my release. I certainly know I will need something like this as I progress through the five intense weeks of Teach for America Institute and then the two life-changing years that lie ahead.

But that wouldn't be the whole story for the genesis of "Go West, Young Man".

(Those of you who know me well know that there is, as always, a vanity aspect to this.)

I received such positive feedback about my email listservs from when I was abroad junior year (shout-out to GLOBE III 2010!) that I knew I had to do something like this during my TFA experience. I loved sharing my adventures, I loved writing to you all and making you smile from afar. I want to entertain you, to connect with you all, to share my experiences with you.

And I distinctly remember one sentence I wrote on August 27, 2009, in my first email update, that still applies today: "I'm terrified of being forgotten."

This is my first foray into the blogosphere, so I'm not really sure where to go from here...but I guess that serves as a nice metaphor for my life right now.

I'm looking forward to updating you all as my adventures continue; I love and miss everyone.

peace and love from the grand canyon state,

pb