Pivoting

Yesterday I received an email. The content of the email means a dramatic shift in how I use my time over the next few months. The message was simple, but it represents a turning point in my JVC experience. It was from the Boston Teacher Residency (BTR) program at UMASS Boston telling me that applications for the 2017-2018 school year are open.

Of the three Mountain House JVs who finished their service and left last December, two applied to grad school programs. One got her applications in soon after she got home, the other sent in everything before she left. I would like to follow the latter's example, not because the former didn't have success in her applications, but because I want to be able to enjoy “the lightness of being” when I'm home.*

So the email means that its time to start putting my applications together. I want to go to teacher school next year. So it's time to draft essays, update my resume, communicate with admissions offers, and ask for recommendations. Interestingly, recommendations, generally the easiest part of an application for the applicant because you don't have to do any more work than ask someone who likes you to help you out, may be the most difficult part of the process for me. That's due to two reasons. One, I only can think of one professor from Brandeis who knows me well enough to write a recommendation. That's the downside of spending more time baking bread each week than on homework (the upsides were better quality of emotional life and getting paid). Two, some of the best people to ask for recommendations don't speak English. Pd. Eddy, Hna. Rosario, and Hna. Vilma can all say a lot about work as a young educator the last two years, but the language barrier will be difficult to surmount, especially for programs that, like BTR, use an online form to submit recommendations instead of just asking for a letter. It'll probably take a lot of back and forth emails with admissions officers, but I'll get it figured out.

But beyond applications for grad school programs, this email means its time to pivot to preparing for being home in 2017. This doesn't mean putting my work here on the back burner - my students come first for as long as I am their teacher – but it does mean working on the details of returning and being home. It's time to solidify the idea of a cross continental road-trip into a plan. It's time to reach out to old bosses and see if I can get some work lined up for when I'm home. It's time to think about what kinds of things I want to buy for myself to memorialize these two years. It's time to discern what I want to eat on my first day back home (just kidding, I know I want a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of apple juice). I don't want to show up at my house next year and not really know what to do with myself for the months before the start of classes. So it's time to get ready.

Finally, it's time to prepare for leaving. I should look back over my list of things I want to do before December, and make a concerted effort to do those things. I should be extra mindful about how I'm spending my time; I don't want to fall into the tired trap and push social things off again and again until they turn into regrets. It's time to think about how to thank the people who have welcomed me into their lives here, knowing that one day I would leave.I should enjoy every moment I can and live this fully. The clock is ticking.

It's not time to say goodbye. It's not time to leave. I've still got one quarter left. But after almost over 20 months here, that doesn't feel like very much.

*Also because my post-service travel plans might mean I don't get home until after applications are due.