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My attitude when I walked into Moody on Sunday was one of confidence.  “I’ve got this.”  I’ve been singing TFA’s praises for a year now.  I know the stats backwards and forwards, I know the alumni and have talked to them, I know just about everything there is to know about this.  I felt like a pro on Sunday.  I thought I knew everything.  This week I realized that there’s much more to this than just regurgitating numbers and heartwarming alumni success stories.  In four short days, I have to walk into a classroom.  From that moment on, I am responsible for the futures of 26 twelve-year-olds.  I am responsible for teaching them enough to advance them to the 7th grade.  If they don’t learn what they need to from me, they go back to 6th grade.  No pressure, or anything.

During all of my informational sessions this week I have felt really good about teaching.  I understood the concepts, I got it, I wasn’t exhausted, I was excited, and I felt ready.  Today that came to a screeching halt.  It finally occurred to me that there’s more to all of this than just “getting it” and writing fabulous flawless lesson plans.  I have to actually present it to 26 6th graders.  That’s the trick.  We watched some videos of incredible teachers today.  One teacher in particular had a class full of 3rd graders, and he got them so excited about learning that they actually WANTED more homework.  They were practically wriggling out of their seats with anticipation.  It was the most incredible thing I have ever seen.  I felt inspired for about 30 seconds before that warm tingly feeling turned to utter terror.

I think I would feel better if I actually got to see my classroom before I walk into it for the first time on Monday.  Unfortunately, I’ll be leaving early tomorrow for a wedding and won’t get to set up my room with the everyone else.  I feel so unprepared.  They threw all of this information at me, asked me to do all this preparation, and I don’t have the weekend to focus on any of it.  Have I mentioned the terror yet?  I wish I could have some sort of mental reference for my room.  Where will my desk be?  How will the seats be arranged?  Where will my table be for Writing Journals and Exit Tickets?  Where will I hang my posters?
It’s day 4 of Institute and I’m already finishing off my second 12 pack of Diet Cream Soda.  I think I’m beginning to develop an unhealthy addiction.  I need to stop blogging and get back to my Rules and Procedures.  My Faculty Adviser pretty much scared the crap out of me in a matter of seconds today.  Really, I think I was feeling pretty good until she informed me that they’ll eat me alive if they sense the slightest bit of weakness.  Awesome.  Thanks, Faculty Adviser.  That’s awesome.

In conclusion, the bathrooms at Moody still suck and my room smells like feet.