the things we never thought we could be

I am back in Mississippi, albeit until I get a U-Haul and take my recliner, couch, and self back East. (That's two days from now, for those of you who insist on exactness.)

Since I am at a my parents' house, that means I'm no longer at Institute. Indeed, I am a newly-minted Teach For America '05 Corps Member. It's official--I will have my own class in the fall. About 150 students will depend on me for some type of instruction.

I could, I suppose, prattle on endlessly about Institute. I could tell you more stories about H, whose final essay nearly brought me to tears. Then there's A, who wrote a poem that would've gotten an A in a college creative writing class. A, as it turns out, should never have been in summer school in the first place. Clerical error made by someone downtown, apparently. According to my mentor, this sort of thing happens all the time. 250,000 kids in school district...bound to be a few kinks in the system, right?

But, as I insinuated, I'm not going to get into all that. Most war stories are boorish to everyone who didn't fight in the battle. You'll just have to forgive for the brief descriptions above. Pretend I never wrote that.

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I should find out my fall assignment August 15.