Why Travel Makes Me a Better Educator (and the tale of a baby novice hiker amongst badass hiking ladies)

Tell me what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
- Mary Oliver
“The Summer Day”

Travel is my professional development. Travel, and in this case, hiking made me a vulnerable learner, and I learned from my mistakes. I realized once again the important things in life aren’t things. It's about relationships with others, being kind, being kind to yourself, and knowing others who are different from yourself. Being vulnerable. Asking for directions. Attempting to order lunch in a different language.

When the bus dropped me off for a stopover in Mexico City, I felt the initial culture shock of unfamiliar sounds and smells. I kept quiet at first. I pretended I didn’t know any Spanish and attempted to communicate in English first. Spanish words got caught in my mouth, and tumbled out, clunky at first. I ate empanadas and a taco al pastor. I soaked in the culture of the city center Zócalo. This time my usual travel buddy was out of pocket. I was flying solo for the first part of my trek, for the first time. And I happily ate helado in some foreign flavor as I strolled back to the airport bus, which I didn't catch because I forgot to buy a roundtrip tarjeta. Sigh. 

We ate a traditional Peruvian meal in the Sacred Valley

I vaguely remember Mrs. Takens, my 8th grade teacher droning on about the ancient Incas, but I was so far removed that it was difficult to draw from any background knowledge to make connections. I can see it with my students, too.

Especially in Chicago Public and with ESL students, explaining the backstory of the material is necessary to make connections with a culture, person, or place they have never experienced. Even wealthier students who travel with their families may be sheltered from real interaction with locals, only stay at fancy hotels, and have first world experiences in other countries. However, my dream for them is to someday experience the world in such a way that they realize people live differently, and without gadgets. People can be poor or middle class, they can work hard, and have beautiful countries. I want them to feel the growth I feel when travel humbles me and puts me in a place of learning, of being the minority, and rediscovering my inner strength.

Rainbow Mountain, pre-sickness

Of course I studied Peru before I left. Reading versus experiencing culture is 100 percent different. I felt the woolly alpaca and fed him grassy hay from my hand. I admired the rosy, wind chapped cheeks of the stout Quechua women and children, dressed in colorful, warm ponchos. I saw the majesty of Peru’s mountains, felt the running spring water beneath my feet and touched the rough rocks that the ancient people moved to build cities. I ate fresh avocados and peeled a passion fruit and slurped its delicious seeds. The Incas were in tune with the earth, and guided by the sun, and stars. They predicted floods and famine, and relocated high into the Andes after a tsunami. I relearned how the Incas were a civilization in South America, and the Spanish conquered them in 1500s and that’s why the Spanish influence and why most speak Spanish and not Quechua. Peru earned their independence in 1821. And I can remember this all now because I have real, experiential connections to this culture.

But it wasn’t all wooly alpaca and sipping Peruvian coca tea whilst enjoying beautiful mountain views. Babies, can I please give you the angst behind the Insta?

As some of you know, I have been dealing with a stress fractured heel since December. I was wearing an orthopedic boot up until the day I left for Peru. I made the decision to leave the boot at home. This could have been a silly decision, but it worked. The more I walked and used my foot, the more I got back my range of motion and strength.

My first day in Cusco I rested and acclimated. I decided to book a Rainbow Mountain tour. It was beautiful but overrun with tourists. It is at an extremely high altitude of 17,000 feet. The next day I woke up with a sore throat and cold that would persist throughout my trek for the next nine days, even with medicine from the pharmacy and later, antibiotics from a Peruvian clinic. Thankfully, we had a lot of hot tea and drinks that made breathing in the cold mountain air manageable. I also bought a buff to put over my nose and mouth to avoid breathing in dust and the cold night air while snuggled into a mummy sleeping bag. 

This alpaca goes back up to the mountains
after earning his tips in town.

Gentle Babies, I lost my hiking virginity in a big way. This was not an Austin Greenbelt flat Sunday walk type of hike. Mama kind of accidentally signed up for a HIKE hike. Of course I'd read up on the Quarry Trail Trek. We'd hike 5-7 miles per day for three days and reach an altitude of 14,500 feet, blah, blah. Supposedly one of the easiest treks to Machu Picchu. I can tell you with my hand on my Teachers College Units of Study book (my bible), that this was physically harder than running three marathons. It was mentally more challenging than being homesick and immersed in Indian culture for three months. This was the most difficult thing I have done in my sheltered life. It was real, tent sleeping, no showering, dusty hiking boots and wearing the same trekking pants day after day. I had told myself we were just going for a walk. One Badass Hiking Lady (BHL) asked how much hiking experience I had. "None," I said as she looked at me in horror. 

BHLs in Cusco's Plaza de Armas, Cusco

I was the last one in the group, always. My pace was slow even when I felt like I was walking briskly. I could feel the pressure of the altitude on my chest. Every few steps uphill I was gasping for breath. I looked at the nakedness of the landscape. Raw, snow capped mountains. I knew if I came out of this, I would never be the same. I would be better. That’s the thing about hiking, or performing a difficult task. You can only think about the immediate pain. You are one within yourself, present and in the moment. It’s just you and that mountain, baby, a forced conversation with yourself in the mirror. Who am I? My hair is matted and dirty and I’m wearing hiking boots. My god, I’m in Peru and these views are stunning! I’m with people but alone. 

This summer I devoured nonfiction, and I had started Wild by Cheryl Strayed just before my hike. She said, “As I ascended, I realized I didn’t understand what a mountain was...they’d seemed to be nothing more than really big hills. But they were not that. They were, I now realized, layered and complex, inexplicable and analogous to nothing….there was still more up to go…”

Summit, right before the excruciating descent

There was no place for regular stresses, like starting school, decorating my classroom, and menial tasks like laundry and grocery shopping. Between gasping for air, feeling lonely in the hike, and in the middle of the mountains, I started to panic and cry. I was experiencing consequences of a 15,000 foot elevation gain. I would not have made it without our lead guide, Hugo’s encouragement and other guide, Katy’s steadfast calmness. Hugo said “You are safe with Hugo. I will go with you. You are strong; you will make the summit." I didn’t really believe him, but I slowed my hiccuping cries and nodded to push forward. I dug my hiking poles into the dusty earth and pushed on. The air was thin, as was my confidence. Katy told me to close my eyes and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the summit. When I opened my eyes, tears of joy and exhaustion streamed (along with snot running from my nose) as my weak legs wobbled in front of a panoramic view of the snow capped Veronica Mountain, the highest peak in Peru. Joy, accomplishment, headache, exhaustion, purpose. 

I have this fear of going downhill. It turned out that day two was half excruciating uphill and the rocky downhill half was worse. Any wrong move and I would tumble down the rocks and break an ankle, re-injure my foot. It was the slowest, most painful, repetitive activity. I dug my poles ahead of me into the rocks, like crutches. Sometimes they would slip and I would have to replant them. Then I would pull myself down to the next set of rocks to test out. I would slip but not fall. "Despacito," I could hear our main guide, Hugo saying. "Slowly, please." But it was wearing on my joints and I was mentally and physically exhausted. The day was too long, my blisters were too painful, the course was too steep, too unsafe, and I wasn’t even a hiker. “If I slip on these rocks and fall, the pain would be over, and I would die beneath a beautiful view," I thought. I also had a fleeting thought of stabbing myself with my trekking pole. Too messy. 

Those gnarly teeth, though!

I hiked for 11 hours on the second day and had more than 30,000 steps. I’m not bragging, I’m telling you that half of those steps were in extreme pain. I would later find several blisters on my toes that were as big as my toes. I sat cross legged in my tent that night like a cave girl, sawing off moleskin patches with a knife I borrowed from one of the BHLs. Somehow, hours later, we arrived at the camp. Later, a BHL would tell me the only comparable pain to that descent was childbirth. 

It was the last day of our hike and I could see the river flowing next to the town of Ollantaytambo. I was feeling sore, but hopeful and my pace was steady. It was the first time I was in the middle of the group, not dead last. I walked on alone, knowing there were two guides in front of me and people behind me. I could hear friends ahead, but they walked faster and their voices faded into the foliage, now changing from tan, rocky dirt to lush green at the edge of the Peruvian jungle. My path stopped and came to a stone ruin. I continued a wider path down to the river, as our guide said we’d be following it into town. The path stopped suddenly at the river, into a thick of leafy trees. I felt a pit in my stomach. I remembered all the survival advice I’d read about-stay in one place, don’t panic, but all I felt was the hot sun beating down on me-how long would it take the group to notice I was gone? Their radios hadn’t worked for an earlier emergency situation with another BHL, so I panicked. Do I have enough water? Where the f*ck is the trail? I was truly alone, in a foreign country, on a mountain and I had no idea how to get down to the town. I could hear the railroad. It wasn’t far. I started sobbing. My voice was so hoarse from being sick. I tried to scream for help. "¡Benjamin, Katy, Ayúdame!" But all that came out was a bit more than a whisper. I was sweating and crying and walking aimlessly from the river to the ruin. I kept thinking about a time six-year-old me was lost in Meijer. It felt like the end of the world, but I was likely relatively safe. It would be okay, and someone would soon find me. This gave me the strength in my exhausted muscles to push on, and to have a clear thought. I have no recollection of how long I was lost, but the BHLs said it could have been 30-40 minutes. 

2nd World Wonder!

I retraced my steps. I came back to the ruin for what seemed like the tenth time and saw a tiny path, so small I had to turn sideways. This was it. I sobbed on, hating hiking and hating myself for not doing enough research before this trek, hating my actually wonderful guides for abandoning me. I saw Katy’s purple backpack in the distance. “You left me! You were supposed to be behind me! Benjamin didn’t give me directions for the path!” I screamed at her with my scratchy voice until my damaged throat hushed to a whisper. And six-year-old-me sobbed into her shoulder while she told me I was safe, it was okay, and my friends were waiting for me. When I returned to my adult self, I apologized to Katy. During the trek, she was my clutch, and reminded of how much people need each other to get through tough times. This moment was also a test of flying solo, not knowing anyone before I decided to torture myself with the three-day trek. One lady practically held my hand through town as to not to lose me. It felt good to be known and to be missed, even by strangers turned new friends. We may lose our way, but the path can give us strength, growth, and learning if we let it.

Post-hike, I had never related more to these words Cheryl Strayed quotes of Charles Long, an author of a book on the Pacific Crest Trail: “How can a book describe the psychological factors a person must prepare for...the despair, the alienation, the anxiety and especially the pain, both physical and mental, which slices to the very heart of the hiker’s volition, which are the real things that must be planned for? No words can transmit those factors…”

On a different and EXCITING note, I am returning to Trinity as a 6th grade lead English teacher, a position that has taken time, patience, experience, a move, and hustling to land. It has taken five years to find a setting in the type of school that is sustainable, with a loving community that feels like family. A position where I can truly make a difference and feel passionate about the content and method of delivery.

Trendy Fallen Angel Restaurant in Cusco

This summer, I also read Michelle Obama’s Becoming. It again reminded me that I am still becoming Teacher Rachel. I am becoming with my teaching practice, becoming okay with flying solo, and still becoming aware of this planet’s wonder and adventure.

There is something a bit warm fuzzy-Insta-agenda-ish about the word "wanderlust". But for some of us, it is an actual psychological thing that cannot be tamed. Travel feeds my soul in way that routine does not. South America was my 5th continent and Machu Picchu, my 2nd world wonder. But who’s counting? I just want to see as much of this planet as I can. Staying out of my comfort zone grounds me, oddly. It's part of my becoming.

Redbud, Robinia, & Bluebonnets

https://ezinsuranceagency.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/jwj-bluebonnets-043b.jpg

Spring is known as a time for growth and renewal in nature and in the classroom. During this season, kids' limbs are growing and they are getting taller. My fourth graders' minds are stretching into that awkward gap of responsibilities and looming thoughts of middle school.  The weather is about to get warmer, and we are growing into a new season. More injuries result as we are trying out our bodies that are too big for us and waiting as our brains catch up. It seems we are starting new each week. 

Here in Austin, the flowers are blooming a bit early, but we're ready to dive into the homestretch! Spring can feel like a high performance time, and chances are if you're stressed, the kids are feeling it, too. It's a great time to review content, revisit procedures, reread some picture books, and maybe do a fun Spring Math Maze. (And here are the Spring Math Maze Answers.) 

As educators, it is okay to take a deep breath and loop back around. We can celebrate our learning and how far we've come this year. Let's relax, and then look forward. You are doing a great job, teacher friends!

xoxo

Rachel 

**Celebrate the start of spring with this fun maze worksheet from Education.com! While the weather is warming up, find even more educational math games here.

I am thankful for you

Loves, 

During the first week of school, I could feel my life changing. I was excited it was Friday, but not counting down the minutes. I said, “Have a great weekend!” to coworkers, but it was cheerful. I needed the rest but was energized to have a couple days to explore Austin. I wasn't collapsing on the couch. School is fun and minimally stressful. If there are stresses, I have the capacity to deal with them. We go to chapel every day. The first week, I almost cried happy tears. This was a place where children are loved, cherished, safe, and where they believe in themselves.

During chapel, students at Trinity sing about a place where they can grow and change the world. And they actually believe that is true. 

They actually have a chance to grow, build confidence, and learn. If a student experiences a setback, the community is there to surround them and help them up. An empathetic friend or teacher is there always saying positive things and redirecting in a positive way. If I have a rough morning, it doesn’t set the tone for the whole day. All the other support I receive makes it go away. 

If my low-income Chicago students were somehow transplanted in this community, friends, they would thrive. My heart hurts for them and I miss them and wish I would have had the metacognition to love them from the place I am now. 

The fun is back in teaching. If a child is bouncy or just not listening, that is embraced. Teachers have the capacity and patience to deal with it in a kind way. I have the capacity to joke and develop relationships with students that redirect behavior in a silly-fun-loving-kid-friendly way. 

I am looking forward to seeing my friends and family over this Thanksgiving Break, but not desperately counting down the days. When coworkers said, “Have a great break!” It was cheerful. It wasn’t about me desperately needing time off because I was going to get sick or physically/mentally/emotionally was about to break down 

I am me again. I’m playing basketball in a league. I’m playing basketball with my students at recess. I’m coaching 4th grade girls basketball. I have coworkers I trust and who truly support me. 

I am going out on REALLY GOOD dates. A full Alamo Draft house experience and another for

queso and to a local bookstore. To outdoor patios with those lovely porch lights and to rooftops overlooking the skyline. In fact, I went on more dates in my first couple months in Austin than I did all last year. 

I’m WRITING. I went to meet a picture book author (Alexandra Penafold) and to a Write Away Day at the Writing Barn, a beautiful city-central-but-getaway venue. Stacks of picture books lined the walls and it stirred my heart, that deepest place where our passions and emotions lie. I wrote poetry and entered an essay contest. It doesn’t matter if I win, IT FEEDS MY SOUL.

I go out to a bar with a Detroit Lions watch group every Sunday to watch the Lions (lose). Sometimes I’m inclined to to socialize, others not. But it’s so fun to be with my ✋🏻people!  

While still “feeling things out”, I went to church for the community aspect. Chrysta, a college friend, has truly loved me into her and Barrett’s church community. 

I joined a gym, ohhh lordy. But hear me out.  I have time to go. It has a basketball court where I can practice. Sometimes The Guys ask me to play! 😂 I’m more active. I can go to spin class on Saturday mornings and my women’s craft beer group happy hour on first Tuesdays and not worry about grading papers. I have an excuse to explore the Barton Creek Greenbelt, Lady Bird Lake Trail, Mount Bonnell, Zilker Park, McKinney Falls State Park, Walnut Creek Trail, and so many more trails and green spaces. 

I feel like I’m on my own and it’s liberating. I am on my own and it’s scary. I am missing connections I’ve built over 9 years of living in Chicago. 

I have a new outlook on life. I am realizing how much humans need each other. I love the past and the present is satisfactory and the future is invigorating. My most current goal is to be able to afford two pugs, and I will name them Macy and Samson. 

At the end of the day, it’s just me. I am making my own decisions. Friends and coworkers come and go, relationships, too. And I’m okay with that. I am enough.

My friends and acquaintances, and family, my coworkers and teachers, I am truly grateful for you. I love who you are and your struggles and wins. We are better, more vulnerable people if we share with each other.

Xoxoxo Rachel

PS Teacher friends, Education.com gave me this cute winter worksheet to pass on to you!. I know in the days leading up to holiday breaks it can be fun to take a brain break to do some of these with your students. Warm up reading skills with this fun winter word search! Be sure to check Education.com for more great reading activities! 

Warm up reading skills with this fun winter word search! Be sure to check Education.com for more great reading activities! 

The school year in review...and new beginnings!

I'M MOVIN' TO AUSTIN, TEXAS Y'ALL, where I'll be teaching in a private school. I will miss Chicago, but after nearly ten years, I am ready for change!!

I'm writing to release myself from a stressful school year and to prepare for a new chapter, personally and professionally. After rereading my thoughts on this year, it made total sense why I needed a move...and a vacation.

A few disclaimers. I realize not all public schools are the same. I write to process my unique experience and to reflect on this flawed education system and how I can continue to be part of the solution for making it better. Also, not all students were cruel. I had brilliant, kind students as well. Many, if not all of my students faced trauma and their behaviors were a result of difficulties at home. The school needed 9 counselors, not 9 security guards.

I was hired as a 5th grade literacy teacher. Before school started, they switched me to 5th grade math. At winter break they switched me to 4th grade self-contained, or both literacy and math. Changes happened all the time, and I was concerned for the students. They needed stability.

I wrote notes on my iPhone after school because I could barely process incidents while they were happening:

Me: Good Morning, KT! How are you today?
KT: Shut up talking to me you dumb b*tch.

This was a Typical Tuesday in my teacher life at CPS, and I was clearly not cut out for this school. Here's more:

Caught them in a studious moment.

I can only see so many crumpled notes on the floor with “F*ck Ms. Talen” written on them. I can only be called terrible names so many times. I can only handle so many parents threatening to call the police on me if I text them one more time about their child’s behavior. "Please, let the police come and remove your child", I thought. I can only be cussed out by parents so many times. I can only break up so many physical fights before I get hurt, too.

I’m not cut out for being a teacher at this Chicago Public School. No one is, unless they are sacrificing the actual art of teaching for behavior management. I’m not a f*cking security guard. I’m not a social worker, entertainer, a babysitter, or prison warden. But because I teach in this setting, I must be all those and more. Every day I am physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. It is the definition of being “on empty”. There is nothing left for me to give and I don’t have any capacity or patience left to deal with everyday issues, like someone running late or me needing to get gas on the way to school. I can’t think. It’s called secondary trauma. Chewing gum is a trigger for me. I have so many new triggers. I lose my sh*t if I even hear an abnormal sound or even a whistle. I have no patience for jokes, laughing, or lightheartedness. 

I was dying inside. After school, I would crawl into the fetal position and cry, unable to move. Sometimes I wouldn’t even go in the house. I would sit in the car for 15 or 20 minutes, simply admiring the silence and the absence of children. It astounds me how I can hate teaching when I'm so passionate about it.

I say all this not to be dramatic, but to be real. Chicago Public Schools teachers are tough b*tches.

In my isolated experience, students’ parents are drug dealers, users, deal with addiction, are uneducated and have too many kids to keep track. One parent wrote on an IEP request that her child was in 6th grade. He’s in 4th.

Students have gotten arrested and picked up by the police. My student, a 4th grader, physically assaulted his mother in front of school. Turns out she, too hits him at home. 

The conditions were unfathomable. Here's more from my notes:

The air conditioning in my classroom does not work. The windows are so hard to open and they slam shut so hard you could lose a finger. There are constantly ants, roaches, and mice roaming. My SmartBoard never worked, so I just use it to hang anchor charts. My doc cam is broken so I have to hold it in place with a book while writing. My school laptop will only turn on if connected to the charger. Only two electrical outlets in the room work. Only 6 Chromebooks out of a whole cart are fully functioning. Many have missing keys, hardware, or the mouse was messed up, the screen broken. Kids drop them like pencils.

I never have enough pencils. My classroom library had zero books to start and the ones I have now are trashed. I use them to prop the windows and door open, not to read. Students have stolen candy and every classroom supply from me under the sun.

One student called me a whore. One time students made whistling noises during a lesson. Every time I started to talk, he interrupted me. I addressed the behavior. Then I ignored it. I let it go on for a while, but he persisted. It's enough to make someone cry.

My classroom overlooked the parking lot. It was gray, bleak and we had a full view of the dumpsters. I preferred to just keep the window shades shut. A dark room seemed calmer for the students.

Let's talk about additional stresses. My pay rate would be based on how well my students did on their NWEA test. I had a student perform terribly, just to spite me. The same student lied on the phone saying I wouldn’t help him, that I didn’t give him any work, after I called his mother to explain how he was sword fighting during class with my meter stick (This actually would have been funny if these incidents didn't happen every day).

Then there's the time when the principal told me to boost failing student grades by giving them an extra "participation grade". Talk about a false sense of accomplishment!

That said, this population of students were really cool kids outside of the classroom. They were street smart. They didn't take sh*t from anybody and had no tolerance for fake people or liars. They were resilient, tough, and never backed down from a (non-school related) challenge.

In the business world, you get professional development. They pay for your meals when at conferences. They fly you. When I asked for a PD day to study for a certification test, my principal said it would have to be at school. Companies usually provide you with all the tools you need to be successful. I pay for everything myself--upwards of $600 just to get my classroom started. 

But you get summers off, you say!(No, we don't, for many reasons.). Don't you have a prep AND a lunch? Thanks for asking. I actually documented one of my typical prep/lunches, 11:15 am-1:00 pm:

11:10 Hand out the Dojo treat for students that earned 90 percent or higher

11:12 Get students quiet to line up and for the hallway.

11:14 Finally students are at a volume zero and I line them up.

11:15 Go to lockers. Students are not quiet so we do it again

11:20 wait in the lunch room until students have quieted down.

11:25 Take 4 students with me, 2 of which are being bullied, to keep them safe in my room during lunch and recess.

AND have at least one restorative conversation with a student that was misbehaving during the morning.

11:30 The 4 students eat lunch in my room. I shove food in my mouth. I let them play together on my work laptop since I share the Chromebook cart and the other teacher has it. 

12:00 Repeat lining up quietly process and take students to specials.

12:15 We are late to specials because of the transition.  I stay to make sure students transition smoothly. 

12:20 I talk with the counselor 30 minutes on behavior management and techniques. Then, I talk with a parent picking up my student after he had a rough morning. 

12:50 I make copies, hand out papers, and quickly review the lesson I will be teaching. This time is often taken up by cluster meetings with the academic supervisors or committee meetings.  

I didn't want to leave CPS. I fought it so hard and stuck out the year. I may have even scoffed at how people say teachers get burnt out after 5 years. "Not me, I'm passionate and tough", I thought. I didn't want to be a statistic. But this Austin school will be a healthy change, and I believe it will get me back to the art of teaching and creativity of it that I love so much. 

Hey! If you made it this far, you either feel really sorry for me or are a great friend, so thank you for listening. Also consider giving to my DonorsChoose project :) It was initially for my CPS students, but the new ones will benefit as well! 

Back-to-school...as the teacher this time!

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. - Theodore Roosevelt 

Hi, I'm Rachel and I'm a planner. I struggle with uncertainty and fear the things I cannot control. This year really threw me off. 

Working at Lab school was awesome. I had an amazing supervisor who was invested in the professional development of staff. My job as an aide for a little boy with autism turned into the most fulfilling work I've had thus far. He is my little buddy and he made so much progress this year. It was only supposed to be a few hours a week to make ends meet, but it evolved into part time and so much more.

I was supposed to move to Florida and I worked my ass off applying to schools, going to conferences, and flying to interviews. It felt like a failure to stay in Chicago when I so desperately was seeking change. I am such a planner that I decided it was too risky to go, so I stayed. And then I received an offer from a key school in Florida and several emails back with interest in pursuing the hiring process further. But it was too late for me.

To add insult to injury, I was still receiving rejection emails from Florida schools. Like one or two per day. Don't take things personally. I can hear Carol's words now (see below). Wtf is wrong with me? Anne Lamott would say this is my shitty first draft. I don't have enough experience. I'm a bad teacher. All my friends have jobs and I don't. I'm going to have to substitute teach again...blah blah blah.

Then all the hope came rushing back when a position at Lab school opened up. I went on last minute interviews and then was lined up for the position. They ended up hiring someone else on the spot. There I was, lying face down  on the arena floor. I tried to pick myself up, but this one stung. I went on 3 more interviews and received one offer. I needed about .01 seconds to decide to accept it. A 5th grade math position at a CPS turnaround school on the south side. That is about as cray as it gets, folks. I was ashamed. Like I said, I was more relieved for a job than celebratory.

During my summer nannying gig, I met the most wonderful woman while letting the girls splash around in the Crown Fountain. Carol sat next to me, and mentioned she was a teacher. She taught for 38 years-holy cow! She taught fifth grade (like I will). Naturally I asked if she had any advice. Without missing a beat, she said, "Here are the four things you need to know":

1. Be honest. Tell the truth. I took this as being vulnerable with students and not being afraid to show your humanity. It makes you more relateable. She said it's also about being honest with students about how they are doing.

2. Do your best. You will make mistakes, but you're not perfect, Carol said. Boy, do I know that to be true!

3. Don't make assumptions. This is a hard one for me. We make assumptions simply because we are human and trying to gather so much information. We end up grouping people because it's easier, but that doesn't make it right. I have my own ideas about what my class will be like and where my students come from, but their stories are so much richer and meaningful, and it's my job to know them.

4. Don't take things personally. Carol made me repeat this after her twice. I think I'm pretty good at this, but I do worry I will get worn down. As a teacher, you're constantly on display and it's wearing to always be patient with others.

Then Carol did something amazing. She patted me on the back and said "I am so thankful you got a job. Congratulations!"

It took me a second to figure out why I was taken aback by this. Then I realized she understood what I'd been through. She got me. We talked about how it was a teacher's market back in her day, but I was struggling to find a job, even with many diverse experiences. I told her about my excruciating application process and all the rejections. I hadn't even celebrated. Even if I'm not exactly at the type of school I want, I have worked very hard, and it is an accomplishment. I had been so busy comparing to other teachers in fancy schools, those with more experience, and so focused on not getting what I wanted, that I neglected to be grateful for my unique journey. 

In Rising Strong, Brené Brown talks about how to pick yourself up after a failure after you have dared greatly in the arena. In some ways I am still in the arena with this new teaching venture. In others, I am picking myself up from what seems like a failure. But Carol proved it wasn't a failure at all. It was a piece of my puzzle and part of my learning about resilience. And for that, I am truly grateful.  

Though I have had many teaching experiences, this is the first time I will have my own homeroom, and I am SO FREAKING READY. Happy back-to-school!!

PS I think 5-year-old me knew I wanted to be a teacher 20 years before I did!

Full Circle

Many of you know how much I loved my public relations job at Easterseals (previously it was Easter Seals). It was a position where I could write, and feel good about working for a cause--helping people with disabilities. I worked on the best campaign, which was around advocating for early intervention and for young children at risk for developmental delays. I wrote their stories about overcoming adversity and how Easterseals therapists helped them achieve their goals. I met amazing children and their resilient families.

This year, one of the moms I babysit for mentioned her son needed some extra help at school. She wanted to know if I was interested in this as a part-time job. At first, I thought of it as temporary, additional income, but it quickly became so much more than that.

I am passionate about providing early intervention for this little guy with autism (let's call him Max). Max quickly became my buddy, and is making so much progress every day. He is only three, and he knows his colors, numbers, shapes, letters, and letter sounds. He has a brilliant speech therapist, a wonderful occupational therapist, and a mom who is his greatest advocate.

I can honestly say this is the most fulfilling experience--to see a child grow; to learn to cope, communicate, eat with a spoon, wash his hands, and play. There is nothing else I'd rather do than spend my weekday mornings with Max. 

Travel Tips for Teachers (or anyone, really)

I was inspired to share some of my travel and money savings tips with you. Though it's not quite directly related with teaching, travel is something most teachers take advantage of in their time off during the summer. I realized my 2016 Eurotrip was a "last hurrah" before I settled into a regular fall school schedule and now my longest period to travel will be in the summer months. Rather than learn the hard way like I did, here are some (hopefully) useful, tried and true tips from a fellow teacher/travel enthusiast:

1. Pack lightly. It's all over the Designated Tip Lists of the Interwebs, but seriously. You don't need as much as you think you do. Only pack clothes you are comfortable wearing. You won't wear something if you can't walk in it all day. Every piece of clothing counts.

The top of Arthur's Seat hike in Edinburgh (free activity!)

2. Bring your own water bottle. (Just don't forget to empty it before going through security! I have been impressed at how much water I've needed to chug at a frantic moment's notice, though, hehe). My friend BreAnna, aka Crafty Coin attests to this, too. Don't pay for bottled water-it's better for the environment AND your wallet.

3. Map your route beforehand using Google Maps so you know if a taxi driver is taking the best route. If traveling internationally, you can also follow your location on the map this way to navigate without WiFi.

4. Bring bar soap and powder laundry soap so they don't count as liquids in your carry on baggage. This is if you're a savvy non-bag checker (or just refuse to pay the ridiculous fees).

5. Open a credit card like CapitolOne that offers no foreign transaction fees. Did you know credit card companies charge for changing over currency into USD?

6. Order local currency from your bank to avoid fees and get the best exchange rate. And order more currency than you need-many banks will change currency back to USD for free. Often, too, there's a significant ATM fee when withdrawing abroad.

7. Carry on. Do not check baggage *because of aforementioned ridiculous fees*. Embrace budget airlines, but beware of the hidden fees. I learned this the hard way, and also by reading tips from smart girls like Curiosity and a Carry On. I hope you feel the same exhilaration I do of packing everything you need for two weeks in a carry on.

8. Don't be afraid to take public transportation in a foreign country. Ask for directions at the bus or train station, as many employees speak English. It's so much cheaper than taxis! More beer money!

9. Take red eye flights or trains so as to not pay for lodging on a night between destinations.

10. Wash clothes while traveling. Buy a drain stopper, clothesline, and powder laundry soap to wash in the sink. This way, you save on room in your suitcase or time/coins at the laundromat.

11. Download travel god, Rick Steve's walking audio tours. There's an app for that! These free, guided tours save you from hiring and tipping a guide. Plus, you can stroll at your own pace.

I am enlarging this fave photo of Széchenyi Thermal Bath
in Budapest, Hungary as a souvenir

12. Plan a layover in a city of interest. If a layover is inevitable, you might as well make the most of it! For my Eurotrip, I had a five hour layover in Berlin while en route to Budapest. It was just enough time to see a few highlights, drink a good German beer, and stretch my legs before sitting on the plane again.

13. Make pictures your souvenirs. I hate feeling like souvenirs are inauthentic or not meaningful, but I still want a token to remember each place I've visited. Take your best photo and blow it up into a poster and frame it. Voila! New art for the bedroom and a great memento.

14. Use a Hop on Hop Off Bus Tour as transportation. These tours are offered in many cities, and I loved that it doubled as transportation. I got off at a stop and would take the bus route again to drop me off near my Airbnb or next destination.

15. Go to the grocery store. Pack a lunch for the day, but try authentic food and treat yourself for dinner. Breakfast and lunch items are easy to buy and much more cost efficient than eating out for all three meals.

16. When using a credit card, pay in the local currency if given a choice. This will give you the most accurate exchange rate, and sometimes banks charge a fee to change the money back to USD. See #6, above.

17. Use Airbnb (and get $35 off your first trip by using my referral code!). You will usually get a better deal than a hotel, and with amenities like a kitchen, shampoo, or breakfast included, it can save a lot! The hosts are also very helpful in recommending sights to see and places to eat in the area. You will automatically be connecting with a local who has insider information.

Stunning view of Vitosha Mountains from my Airbnb in Sofia, Bulgaria

18. Ensure time is on your side. Let's say it takes 15 minutes longer to take public transportation than a taxi. You will be more likely to opt for the dough-saving route of time is on your side. Same with allowing for grocery shopping and standing in lines versus their queue-skipping, costly ticket counterparts will help save money and allow for a more enjoyable experience.

Homemade Czech meal.
Best meal of the trip!

19. Research. Trips take tons of planning. You need time to research which options will save you money and which aren't worth the hassle.

20. Get lost. Don't plan too much or you will feel super stressed to fit everything in your schedule. Allow time to wander and stumble upon your own treasures. Also consider getting out of the city. The countryside of many spots is more authentic and less touristy. And cheaper! The best decision was to rent a car in Prague and drive three hours to the country. We had the best homemade Czech meal of our lives and breathtaking scenery!

21. Take M&Ms. It's chocolate that won't melt and they make you feel at home. :)

I love planning trips. If you are thinking of traveling, but don't want the hassle, let me do it for you! Email me for a quote at racheltalen@gmail.com.