Looking Back

Nearly three years ago, I hopped in my car with my mom and my aunt and spent two and a half days driving to New York City. I did not have a place to live, did not yet know what graduate school I had placed in, and had no idea where I would be working. We arrived on a Friday afternoon. The following Monday I was to start classes...somewhere.

Things actually did fall into place rather quickly upon arriving. I slept on a friend's couch for a several days before I moved into an apartment with three strangers and I started classes in a different boro than I was living in. I was completely thrown into the process of alternate certification for teaching, which meant: student teaching an hour and a half away from my apartment from 8-12, going to grad school from 1-8, driving the hour home, trying to do my homework and lesson planning, then getting up to do it all again.

During those six weeks, I ate every single meal in my car while slowly making my way down the LIE or the BQE. I lived completely out of a suitcase because the girl I was subletting from left all her belongings. Other than that, I actually remember very little. Of course, I also don't remember it being bad, but given the choice to relive those weeks I would have to respond with a resounding NO!

Why the trip down memory (or lack thereof) lane? Soon I will be advising a new group of men and women who have decided to join up in this madness. As I've started preparing, I've wondered What the hell am I going to tell them? My only conclusion thus far is: It gets better, I promise.