"That's you."

Today was my last day at my school in Washington Heights and in New York. Goodbyes suck. I am sitting in the JFK JetBlue hub (quite snazzy, btw) and I can't stop thinking about how much I miss all of the wonderful people I have met over the last 6 weeks. This is the first time in months I have been alone and actually have felt lonely.

I think it's the rush of the airport and the world that is running around me without batting an eye at the experience I have just had.

Teach for America is a movement. Today, our school director (TFA lingo for our Institute principals) referred to all of the great TFA alums that are changing policy, beginning schools, and reforming education across the country. We've always talked about this as a movement, but when she grouped us with some of the best leaders in education in the nation and said, "You are Teach for America," I couldn't help but be choked up.

Why am I TFA? Well, I am one Corps Member of 80 in Tulsa, OK. Tulsa is just one of the four regions trained in NYC, teaching in 13 schools to over 2,000 students this past month. TFA is extended to at least 33 other regions across the country, with corps smaller and bigger than Tulsa's. Multiply that to see student impact, and it's hard to deny that a revolution is happening.

Yet, sitting in this hub, I fel so disconnected from it. It is so salient for me right now and yet, it seems invisible to the world around me. I have been spoiled to be around 300+ other people for the past 1.5 months, who, at the drop of a hat, will discuss one of our nation's greatest injustices and the ways to correct it. Literally, surrounded by them. And, when I wasn't able to talk with my colleagues, I saw the movement reflected in my students.

My heart was broken yesterday when a principal at the school where two of my students are from told me that he didn't care about them and "couldn't wait for them to leave." In front of one of the students, one of the highest achievers in my class, he said that he wasn't there to help. All my middle schooler wanted was a way to contact his future high school. But, now that he has passed my class, it doesn't matter where the kid goes, according to the administrator.

That broke my heart.

Bryan has a rough life outside of school; he has some health problems, has had some run-ins with the police over loitering, and doesn't seem to be able to get sleep outside of class. He isn't always my best student in class, but he certainly shows me that he is academically on-point. In his college essay, he told me that he wanted to go to college because he wants to make sure he always has his studies to fall back on.

At less than five feet tall, this 14 year-old swears he will be in the NBA someboday. But, "if I get an injury," he writes, "and can't play any more, I will need to use my college degree."

I spent most of his last day of school with him, proctoring all of his final assessments and reminding him about how smart he is. I offered to go with him to his prinicpal to announce his achievement in my class. When I did so, he lit up. When the administrator proceeded to insult his very existence, I could see him shrink back into himself and instantly believe he isn't good enough.

When we left the office, I told him that I really enjoyed spending my day with him. He did great work in my class and got the highest score possible on his essay. I told him to stay in touch and that no matter what anybody else says, I believe he can go to college AND join the NBA. To see his smile and be on the receiving end of his firm handshake was enough to reinforce how very important the existence of TFA is.

And now, I sit in the airport and think about him, my 12 other students that did more work in 4 weeks than they did all school year, as well as my school colleagues. I miss them all dearly. We all saw tremendous growth in our students and found ourselves stepping up as their strongest advocates when there was any doubt about their abilities.

I wish that more of America could know this experience. Could see it, touch it, feel it, like I did. Like I will.

I can say that my life has fundamentally changed for the better. And, I journeyed through the tough of it here in NY with 24 other teachers and an exemplar training team. We will affect four different regions in the fall and thousands of students.

This is a big deal.

I have a rough weekend ahead, trying to transition my life from Denver to Tulsa while working with my family to overcome great personal loss. The prospect of the next two years is what will motivate me to push through, but I can't help but be sad to think about upcoming events and the people I have to leave behind in NY.

This all ended too abruptly. To work 100-hour weeks for five weeks with 300 of my closest friends, all having to deal with the intricacies of lesson planning, teaching kids that haven't been believed in before, practice, and coping with the inconveniences of living on a poorly organized college campus...and then to see it all evaporate over the matter of a few hours today, is emotionally trying.

The moment. Poof. Gone.

The movement, as a consolation, continues. I am excited to affect more change, but I can never forget the people who got me as ready as absolutely possible for the 2 years ahead.

Life will be so different now. It is already different. Feeling that, and knowing that, and having to live that...

That's Teach for America.

I'm Teach for America.

~MJ