When I started Institute, I told myself I wasn't going to let it change me. I knew TFA was trying to test every fiber of our beings and break us down so that they could mold us into the type of people they wanted us to be. I was prepared for that. I'm mentally tough. I could take it. I would leave the Delta the exact same person I was when I got there, with 5 more weeks worth of memories and knowledge. I was wrong.
As I sit at my desk on the verge of week 4, reading over blog posts of mine from finals week, senior week and Induction, I'm realizing that I'm not the same person I was when I got here last month. I'm very different. And I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that. That one line from that famous motivational saying keeps popping into my head... "if something tries to change you, let it". I suppose I should embrace the idea that this experience is going to change me. In the back of my mind I always knew it would.
Then I stop and think about the conversation I had with Liz at dinner tonight. We were recounting our July 4th weekends to each other (I went to New Orleans, she went to Memphis) and she was explaining to me that people got up at 8 a.m. this morning to start doing work, even though we don't have anything to hand in until Thursday. And then she was telling me about an SLA corps member who felt the need to go into her classroom on Saturdays during her first year, just so she could make sure everything was perfect. I don't want to be that person. That person has no life outside of work. So the two of us made a pact that we would 1. definitely go on our cross country road trip next summer, 2. call each other if we ever felt the need to go into school on a Saturday and 3. remember that it is possible to have a life outside of TFA and refuse to let it become our only existence. TFA is what I do and, for now at least, it is a part of who I am but that does not mean that I will let it become the only thing in my life. I'm going to stay in touch with my friends from school, do things that do not revolve around closing the achievement gap and not let every other joke I make be in reference to TFA.
Last night, after the fireworks ended, I was sitting on the steps of a gazebo on the edge of the Mississippi River in the French quarter, with a frozen daiquiri in my hand and a brass band playing a mash up of Kanye West and the Backstreet Boys. As I sat there, I started thinking of last year's 4th of July and how I spent it in DC with Liz, Erin and Nick. At that point, on that weekend, I was as content with my life as I ever could have hoped to be. If someone had come up to me last year, while I saw sitting on the Mall with Erin and Nick waiting for the fireworks, and asked me, "Kaitlyn Boyle, where will you be one year from now on the 4th of July?" I would have looked them in the eye and, without a moment's hesitation, said "I'll be right here. On the Mall with my friends, waiting for the fireworks." Never, in a hundred years, would I have said that I'd be in New Orleans with a daiquiri and a brass band. Not that it's a bad thing. It just nowhere close to where I thought I'd be.
I also realized something else last night. At some point, I will move back to the District. I'm learning more and more that it is the city I belong in... it's my second home. I may not get back there right away, and definitely have things I want to do before I arrive, but before I turn 30 I will have moved back there. Maybe it's my time in the Delta thats talking, and maybe I'll move to Charlotte in 2 weeks and love it more than I can describe, but DC is a part of me. This spring, I would drive to Tangy Sweet, or to the bank or to Costco and I'd catch glimpses of the Capitol and Dupont and I'd realize that, for all the trouble and aggravation it causes me, that city is my happy place. I say all the time that my happy place involves 2 palm trees, a beach, a pina colada and an ocean breeze. That is my happy place, in my fantasies. Bu DC is my real life happy place. Hot summers, bad traffic, poor snow removal and annoying text messages included. I'll take it all.
I guess this post has kind of turned into a bit of a stream-of-consciousness reflection on the past couple of weeks and how I've been feeling about them. It's probably time I start focusing this blog more on TFA related items but, to me, it has become so intertwined with my life that it isn't possible to distinguish the institution (the organization, not the training) from myself. And, in the end, I think thats exactly how Teach for America wants it to be.
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