Today marks the first day of summer vacation. Last week, we said goodbye to students, boxed up our classrooms, and raised our sparkling cider to toast the 2018-2019 school year. Teachers get a lot of grief from the general public for "summers off," and this isn't the right moment to get on my Teacher Appreciation (And Lack Thereof) Soapbox. But summer break, this jewel, a time to recharge and reset, the seasonal ebb and flow that marks our progress, is, in my opinion, a major advantage to the profession.
I will spend this summer traveling. My travels actually started the last weekend of the school year, when I flew to Kansas City for a dear cousin's wedding. After a few days at home to prepare, I will take off again for another dear cousin's wedding, this time outside Chico, California. Following that, I'll stop by home for just 48 hours, and then I'll be off to Europe (visiting yet another dear cousin in Amsterdam, then my husband's family in France, topped off with tickets to the women's World Cup final). But that's only the warm-up!
For the second half of July, I will participate in the International Field Exchange component of my Fulbright Teachers for Global Classrooms fellowship. This is the trip it's all been leading up to. A year of long hours, lots of stretches outside my comfort zone as I take on a new identity as a global teacher, and patiently waiting for drips of details to come forth from the State Department. My initial application included a section where I was asked to rank my preferences — by continent! That struck me as very broad, but it was just the first in a series of trust falls I've had to take. For the first 6 months of the fellowship, although I'd reconciled myself to the idea that I might be sent ANYWHERE in the world, the most challenging part was not having an answer to everyone's question: "Where are you going?" Finally, as I was celebrating Christmas with my family on the West Coast, I got the email — I would be going to Colombia!
"Central/South America" was my first-choice destination on my initial application. As a French major who's traveled in Spain, I've cobbled together some basic Spanish skills with the help of my students. But Spanish fluency would be an incredible asset to my day-to-day job. Spanish is by far the most common language spoken by my English language learner students. Especially for "Newcomers" who have just arrived in the U.S., the ability to communicate with my students and their families would be invaluable. Not to mention that visiting their continent of birth and heritage, and learning about the school systems there, would give me a whole new understanding of my students' contexts. All of this would ultimately support my goal of growing into a more effective teacher.
It's been another 6 months of waiting to find out what part of Colombia I'll be placed in. The trip begins with a cohort of a dozen teachers spending a week in the capital (in our case, Bogotá), before spreading out in pairs to various host placements. On the second-to-last day of school, I got another fateful email. This time, I learned I'd be traveling to a place I'd never heard of, even in my research about places of interest in Colombia. It was a strange, unmoored feeling — I had a list in my head of cities I might be sent, but even that faint wisp of control didn't hold.
I'll be spending a week teaching and learning in Armenia, Colombia. It's a small-ish city of 300,000 people in the "Coffee Axis," west of Bogotá. My hesitation turned to insistent worry when a quick Google search offered the comparison that walking through Armenia "feels like you're in Seattle." Seattle?! My emotions swelled — it felt like a mistake had been made somewhere along the way. Seattle (and environs) was my home from ages 10-18, and again ages 20-22. Although many of the people I love most on this planet live there, and the years I spent there hold many happy memories, it has just never felt like my natural habitat. All the things other people love about Seattle make me feel boxed in. For me, Seattle is a soggy sock clinging to my ankle. Of all the places in the whole world, why was I being sent to a Seattle look-alike?
A few deep breaths later — it was the last week of school! emotions run high! — I realized that Armenia is and will be its own adventure. Although I had hopes of a coastal locale, somewhere filled with tourist delights and water views, in Armenia I'll have few preconceptions, a chance to venture away from the well-worn tourist track, and the experience of more complete immersion, both cultural and linguistic. As our TGC webinar reminded us, this is a professional trip, not a personal vacation. So after I've fallen fully in love with Colombia (as everyone says I will), I can return, and visit those fabled tourist spots. But who knows — by that time, maybe I'll have fallen even more in love with what is currently a huge unknown: Armenia.
To return to the present, here I sit in Virginia, with my dog at my feet, thick grass and leafy bushes out my window. My to-do list sits next to me and reminds me what needs to be done before I leave. For now, I'll check off the box next to "Start blog" and slice up some watermelon, a typical summer flavor here in the United States. I have a few more days to soak up home before my next trip begins!
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