credentialing

After yesterday’s nonplacement fair, we had our first official social. People were either upset or celebrating, and it was $2 well drinks and margaritas after 8:30, and two bars and a whole cadre of new friends later, I was at home sleeping it off. I woke up this morning resenting my alarm clock. I felt fine physically, apart from a bit of drymouth, but I was completely exhausted, weakened down to the marrow, like instead of sleeping, I’d spent the last eight hours slowly climbing a steep incline. I remember that I dreamt about vomiting, and about wandering around the ruins of an old movie theater, filled with birds’ nests and broken glass. I skipped breakfast to snuggle back into bed for another half-hour.

Today was Credentialing Day. Though we have four credentialing options through my program, two of them with the possibility of masters degrees, I signed on certain that I was going to stay with our partner school, to the extent that I did not even plan to attend other information sessions. There were tangible benefits, chief among them being a curriculum tailored to the corps, and an MA in education after two years. Yesterday I went to the partner session, and things got a little weird.

For one thing, the partner session was mandatory, while all the others were optional, and indeed scheduled for a single one-hour block, so that we could only attend one other info session before making our choice. While we slept on the partner information, the other sessions were all this morning, and we were expected to make a more or less final decision tonight by nine pm. For another thing, the session itself put me off. It felt slick and forced and oriented towards getting my money, and getting it now. I left feeling harassed, for the first time like I was receiving a real party line that had no tangible benefits for me. Often I feel that sessions we attend to “invest us in the mission” have the faint but unmistakable aroma of propaganda, but we are aware of its necessity, and no one really minds. This felt like a strained attempt to force us into a program simply because high enrollment means a stable partnership, which is desirable for my program, and lots of money, which is desirable for the administration here. More than once, they sprung unpleasant changes on us, such as a two-track Monday/Saturday schedule, chosen by lottery, and then attempted to spin them as gift to us, sacrifice to them. I felt manipulated.

This morning I attended a jam-packed session with the UCLA-affiliated Teach LA/Center X. It was a completely different experience. The women spoke at great length about the program’s philosophy of social justice, the integration of pedagogy and practice, their high expectations of us, and the equally high expectations we could have for them. The program is more intensive, requiring both two days a week of coursework and an additional year of commitment, and they were up-front about that. There is an interview, an application, and a chance that we will not, after earning our credentials, be accepted to the master’s program. It is going to cost me $18,000 and I am going to be held to the very highest standards, not simply in terms of grades but in terms of community and of teaching. These things were made very clear.

I thought about my decision for a long time. I wrote out everything I was thinking, made lists, called Aaron, and I even ended up talking to Mike about it after all. In the end, though, only one program felt interested in my as a teacher, and only one choice felt right.

So, I take the gamble. I attend the group interview this Friday, and then I do what needs to be done in terms of loans and letters and paperwork. This is a huge commitment – not only in the sense that it’s a huge amount of money. I will be officially committed to a minimum of three years in The District’s classrooms – and to an almost unimaginable level of engagement with its students. This should, at some level, terrify me. But I think that tonight, I will sleep like a baby.