Teach for Texas, Teach for Tennessee

Closing the Teach For America Blogging Gap
Jun 28 2011

Here, there are water towers every half mile.  Some are rounded and painted over in a light blue or green.  Some are relatively kept up, big basins with a carefully fenced walk way and sensible ladders.  Others are the old kind that you see in places like album covers and movies about the rural South.  They stand up there above the fields and trees like tin coffee cans on spindly paper clip legs.  Whatever kind they are, though, most every water tower’s been printed with a name–a town, a community, the name of a workshop owner.  Here, water towers double as signposts.  They tell you where you are now or where you would have been 50 years ago had you stumbled down this road back then.
They’re the big landmarks in a geography marked by silos and aluminum barns, power lines and crop irrigators, the metal arms that swing around the…

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Jun 23 2011

Dear Mom and Dad–

I’m a teacher! Kind of. (P.S. Momma: thank you for making me keep this bag.  I don’t care how non-courtroom it is.  At 5:15 in the morning, it makes me happy.) The problem with this is: I just ran my kids diagnostic data into the system tracker today to find out their summer growth goals.…

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Jun 19 2011

The Calm before the Firestorm

We’re ravaging the school supplies sections of the SuperWalmart and the Walgreens and the two dollar stores in town.  This morning, I walked the half mile to Our Lady of Victories.  It’s across the road from a cotton field, like every building in Cleveland.  And sitting there in a pew, I was confused and kind…

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Jun 13 2011

The First Day

In the Mississippi Delta, the sun rises low and orange over the foggy corn fields.  The stalks go on forever, flooding up to the trunks of the trees that mark property lines.  You pass tractors parked idly by the highway, aluminum barns rusting in the morning humidity, and the state penitentiary on your left at…

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Jun 12 2011

The Drive Down South

I flew into Nashville, Tennessee from Dallas, TX almost a week ago.  It seems like so much longer.   Two weeks ago, I would have never guessed that I would have met such awe-inspiring people who are my own age.  The people who get stuff done are no longer the older ones, telling us what…

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Written on the bus to school.

High School

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