Teacher Rachel Two Years Later...

If the time gap between posts is any indication of how insanely full my life has been over the past two years...I guess that's the beauty of blogging. I will not be tied to a certain time constraint; I will write as experiences happen, and as I feel moved. I've missed writing for myself, and it's about time I restart!

Students begged me to take a "selfie".

I thought about this blog's title. What happens after I have my own classroom? Will I need a different blog title? I decided absolutely not. Teachers are lifelong learners, and we are always "becoming". Whether it's revamping lesson plans, attending professional development, or constantly figuring out the latest and greatest ways to reach my students, I will still be "becoming" a great teacher 25 years into my career!

A lot has happened in the last couple years. I've studied hard, changed careers from my beloved PR role at Easter Seals, volunteered in El Salvador for a 2nd time, moved from my (also beloved) Lakeview apartment to the south side, received my master's in Elementary Education, and so much more.

It was so hard to say goodbye to my middle school Creative Writing students, room 201, my 8th
grade math students who helped me more than I helped them, and the best teachers in Chicago at the charter school where I taught this year. But the anticipation is killing me, and I'm so ready to complete the last piece of my master's--my fieldwork in a 3rd grade classroom in India.


Let's see if my preconceptions about India hold true. Here's what I've researched or others have told me about India:

• It's dirty
• It's disorganized
• It's crowded
• It's smelly
• I will definitely get very sick
• Men don't treat women very well
• It will be very hot with monsoons
• I will fall in love with the culture
• The food is delicious
• They love cows and jewelry 
• They are curious about Americans, especially if you have blonde hair
• Any others I should think about?

Dirty and disorganized?! Why go there, you say? I felt compelled, and went with my gut! That's really it! We'll see how my placement choice pans out.

Peace, love and T-3 days to India! Xoxo

~Rachel

They Called Me "Teacher Rachel"

Last year, I started classes to get my master's degree in Elementary Education. I love to write and had thought about starting a blog for some time. Writing is therapeutic for me and I wanted to document my journey to become a teacher--it's quirks and challenges, my victories, tips and quotable kid moments. I can tell already it's going to be a wild ride. Later, I might share how I came to know I should be a teacher, but I wanted to tell you about this blog's title.

In a community center tucked away in the Eastleigh neighborhood in Nairobi, Kenya, some of the most precious first and second graders called me "teacher" for the first time. They encouraged me when I was nervous. They waited intently and were eager to hear from me. But what could I offer them? They were so much more courageous than I was. Until that moment, I hadn't thought of calling myself a teacher. When they did, I knew my journey was real.       

The following an excerpt of my blog post from July 16th, 2013, originally written for the Willow Creek Chicago blog:

Eastleigh Community Center was the calm eye in the midst of a tornado of colorful street vendors, clouds of dust, honking buses, trash and stray animals. The center is a place where teens can go to exercise, play sports take classes and get involved as an alternative to street life. There, we met Sonny, who coaches basketball teams for boys and girls in the neighborhood. God is truly blessing Eastleigh’s teens through Sonny as he ministers to his players, to whom he is an amazing role model.  

The center provides ESL classes, where most of the students are Somalian refugees learning English for the first time. Our group members were able to sit next to each student while playing word games and encouraging them in their studies.  

I was able to spend time with Teacher Doreen and her preschool and kindergarten students at the center’s school. I was completely blown away by the respect the students gave Teacher Doreen. She taught them with patience and strength one could only strive for. I could see through the students’ joy and sweet smiles that school was a privilege for them. Their eagerness to learn was inspiring, their giggles, infectious. As soon as they started calling me Teacher Rachel, my knees went weak and I knew I would leave part of my heart in that tiny, cement classroom.