Can't Knock The Hustle.

Suffice it to say that the job market isn't where it used to be.

According to the latest polls, unemployment has soared to an abysmal 9.7 percent, and now it's understandable to see that those with one year of experience and those with twenty-five can be equally screwed in trying to find a job. My brief stint in the wonders of unemployment took a brief siesta as I was granted a one year paid (loose term) internship at an independent school outside of Boston where I lived, taught children, drank after hours, got lost, etc.

Fast-forward to the summer and I was again "on the market" and thanks to diligence over the course of the year had already thrown applications as far reaching as North Carolina and incredibly claustrophobic as Manhattan. Sadly, I started becoming excited when I would simply get a stock reply email saying they had received my information and would be in touch if I was a viable candidate. This, I thought, was at least a step in the right direction.
I also read an absurd amount of times that I was now "on the radar screen" of the school, which to be honest I still really don't know the meaning. How many other candidates were on this so-called radar screen? Does a radar screen have a success point, and if so was there any way to gravitate toward the location of triumph on the radar screen? How did people get off the radar screen? I'm sure there had to be some people not on the radar screen that were previously. All these seinfeldian questions rushed through my head as I hit the refresh button my email account. Nothing doing.

I did however get a single sniff from a junior boarding school in Southborough, MA, one very similar to the school I taught at last year, just co-ed. I would teach, coach, live there and otherwise be their salaried bitch for another school year. [A bitch with benefits, if you will.] It was a perfect setup, I thought, this could be a great fit for me.
The interview process in the independent school world is a grueling one. If I could compare it to public school interviews or perhaps some other job that required me to endure the interview process, I would but I've only been out of college for, like, a year. I mean Christ, the only other legitimate job I had was lifeguarding and working in the front office for the recreation department that my mother had been employed at for 30 years.

I digress, but getting back to the subject at hand, this time I had to teach real live children for a "test lesson" in front of the English department chair. I prepared a lesson, wrote out a detailed and thorough plan for her and taught the class which basically went off without a hitch. I did sort of run out of time, but the kindergarteny name tents were phenomenal and I actually think I impressed her quite a bit with my content and teaching capabilities.

Besides, I looked fuckin' great too.

[As a note of interest, I taught a Langston Hughes poem and it just so happened to be Black History Month; boo ya.]

In addition to teaching, there is a litany of people to speak (read: bullshit) with. They hand you a laundry list itinerary of your schedule for the day and lead you around like cattle to your destinations. After my lesson, I sat down with the head of the upper school, the dean of curriculum, the headmaster, a janitor, ate lunch with two English teachers, spoke with the residential life director, chit-chatted with the butch, track suit-clad (of course) athletic director and was given a lackluster tour in a monotone from two students (one of which was kind of a prick earlier during my lesson). I didn't actually speak to any custodial staff, but it sure as hell was a lot of people to converse with and I left confident that I impressed them and exhausted from giving too many fake chuckles and being overly chipper when I'm typically more laidback and cynical of all things melodramatic (i.e. the interview process).

So after all the effort you put into being overly chipper and answering questions to a 'T' and making sure to send the exceptionally sycophantic 'thank you' emails, did you get a job, Alex?

More like did I get a straight answer, and no. I called and called and called and received jack. A month following the interview, the eldery British receptionist told me the same bullshit from before that they were "still in the interview process" and that I would hear soon.
I never did.

All that for nothing. Did I not write enough in the 'thank you' emails? Should I have handwritten them, and hand-delivered them? Did I phrase the answer about teacher-student boundaries from the dean of students correctly? Was it my tie? All these pertinent questions sloshed through my brain as I wondered why. But after that day of Abu Ghraib-type procedure, I felt confident that I could tackle any obscure question with ease and wow any number of different deans of blank in the process.
But no, all I heard were crickets on the interweb. No emails, no new referrals, nada. There were a few obscure places emailed me interested in my services, but I didn't feel comfortable going down that path. In the wake of mentioning that the Hyde School in Bath Maine wanted to talk to me, a colleague of mine pulled a grim look and replied "bring your helmet." The tidbit he told me about the school was that all the parents signed an agreement to be on campus within 24 hours of an incident or their son or daughter was expelled raised not one but many red flags and I decided against teaching at Sing Sing. So following in awkward, break-up fashion, I just never replied.


Heading into the summer months, I was safe in the fact that I at least had a job to tide me over and a place to live with a roommate that cooked (my mom). I ended up working as a paraeducator/one-on-one aide for an 18 year-old with brain injury. Although that paid bills and such, I knew my tentative master plan was to get back to Boston, come hell, credit card debt or high water.
I sweat it out and sweat it out, and sweat it out some more until I received an email from the assistant headmaster at my former school telling me there might be something stirring in the employment pot. So I hopped in ole Bessie Lou and sped down to West Newton where I "interviewed" with my former colleagues and ended up landing (somewhat) a contract. This contract outlined that for the next school year they would pay me for two long-term subbing gigs and coaching. It turned out to be a whopping one thousand dollars more than last year. Cue the Jefferson's theme song.
The only downside was that I now didn't have access to housing and subsequent health insurance. A friend of mine had a room to rent in Watertown, so I jumped at the chance to move. I packed ole Bessie Lou to the brim and made the next step in my somewhat hazy future.

Here's a list of the things I need to accomplish over the next year:
-Learn American History (again)
-Figure out what 7th & 8th children need to learn from American History
-Teach American History (with minimal to moderate success)
-Learn grammar (again)
-Teach English literature, grammar, vocabulary and writing to ADHD'd 6th graders
-Locate and puchase affordable health insurance [fabulous economic timing]
-Not injure self coaching soccer & basketball while uninsured
-Pay rent
-Defer loans
-Find legal methods to supplement income
-Live successfully with attractive, single female
-Live successfully with cat (despite former childhood allergy)
-Pass eight hours worth of English certification exams
-Obtain certification license
-Cook edible food for self and potential others
-Locate and purchase girlfriend
-Write (!)
-Keep vehicle fueled
-Find full-time job

And of course,

Party.


After reading that list, there is no doubt that taking steps in becoming a tried and true adult won't be difficult, but I've already got a year under my belt and this is only the beginning of my life back in Beantown. Luckily there will be less tales of driving follies seeing as I'm living off campus (thank.god.), but there will be happiness, heartache, allegories of fiscal woe, moments of education bliss, the occasional party foul and more of my trip to France (because I really never got around to it).




And as a reminder, cash donations are always accepted.