The In-Between: Waiting to Become a Teacher

The last week or so, I’ve been feeling a lot like I’m sitting on my hands. I no longer have to submit applications, weigh options, or choose a program. I’ve filled out all of my initial paperwork, secured funding, and know exactly where and what I’ll be teaching for my residency year. I’ve met with my paired teacher, which solidified what a great pair I think we’ll be, and why the choice I’ve made was definitely the right one. I’ve got an apartment lined up, movers scheduled, and I even mapped out exactly where I want each piece of furniture to go. I’m ready to jump, but my program doesn’t start for another three weeks.

I have nothing to do.

And I also have never been busier.

It’s a very weird feeling, waiting for, as Colin Hay put it in one of my favorite songs, “my real life to begin.” I know that’s a bit of an extreme statement, as I’m really just waiting for the next chapter, but that song has been stuck in my head nonetheless. And while I wait, I’ve done a pretty good job of filling up the time.

I’m reading as many books as I can, both personal and professional, as I know that once the program starts, my reading time will drop precipitously. Books like Pushout: The Criminalization of Black Girls in Schools by Monique W. Morris, and The New Teacher Book are making it even clearer that I have chosen the right path, and books like Disorientation by Elaine Hsieh Chouh and The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage by Sydney Padua are giving me some great belly laughs. (If anyone has read any of these and would like to talk about them, please let me know because I have a lot of feelings about all four.)

I spent a weekend watching my niece and nephew, I got vaccine boosters to make sure I’m extra safe going into the classroom, I helped my mother change her internet and cable provider. (If you’ve done that recently, you know it is not a small task.) My passion for writing has been renewed, both here and in poetry and fiction that are all of a sudden flowing out of my hands after so many years of being out of practice. I am super grateful to have ongoing consulting work through More Than Content Consulting , which is basically filling up all the remaining minutes I have. Oh, and I guess I’m sleeping? Sometimes as many as seven hours a night.

When I write that all out, it doesn’t seem like I’m doing nothing. But the feeling remains. I know it’s a great sign that I’m so anxious to begin, but it also feels like every moment is dragging. But hey – now that I’ve written this, I’m one hour closer to getting into that classroom.