The aforementioned cities to which I submitted my resume were: Chicago, D.C., and Boston. The aforementioned ennui emanated from the fact that none of the schools I contacted seemed in any way interested in me.
And then one contacted me-- MATCH Charter High School in Boston. It's a fantastic school, one that's employing some innovative strategies to close the achievement gap. The school boasts some impressive results, taking students who often arrive well below grade-level and moving them to a point where they can not merely enter, but succeed, in a four-year college.
Frankly, I'm dumbfounded that such a school even pulled my resume from their probable stack, and more so that I slid through the interviews with the Executive Director and Principal. Last weekend I flew to Boston and taught a sample lesson to twenty students on a Saturday, and just yesterday they offered me the job.
I've agonized over this choice, not because I don't love this possibility; I do. I've struggled because I picture the faces of all the students I've loved this year, because I replay all the conversations I had this May in which kids told me how much they were looking forward to being in my class again or starting a film club or writing for the newspaper. So when I told my principal and English department today that I was not going to come back this fall, I barely held it together. And when they told me goodbye, I ached. I came home, plopped on the couch and sobbed for a good hour.
But I've decided, and though my heart grieves for all that I'm leaving behind, I'm resolute. Come this fall, I'll be teaching sophomore history at MATCH.
