In the Broadway musical RENT, a year can be measured in a variety of ways: 525,600 minutes, in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee, in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. For many educators, however, a year can be measured in quarters, semesters, seasons, and thematic units.
As a veteran educator, I have seen many school years come and go, usually in what feels like the blink of an eye. August becomes September and then all of a sudden, we are ushering in a brand new calendar year. My years in the classroom have been measured by novels, and poems, essays, and class discussions, along with many other moments of wonder and surprise. Ironically, first-year-teacher me thought I'd never make it to the end of year one, and now, each spring I have to accept the fact that my kiddos are moving on and another year is almost over.
There tends to always be a theme or a story intertwined with each unit of 525,600 minutes. The year I got my master's, the year I got married, the year I had my first child, the year I served as a student council advisor, etc. The themes vary, and there are many different moments of nostalgia that pepper each giant cluster of time. Out of all the years, one of the most surreal was between August 2016 to August 2017.
I was able to measure my 525, 600 minutes in airplane trips, metro rides, roundtables and documents. As I entered this new chapter of my educator life, I learned so much so fast ,and actually couldn't believe how quickly the minutes flew. My co-workers saw me in the halls and standing at the copier, in faculty meetings and on lunch duty. I was still your friendly neighborhood English teacher. Yet, like Clark Kent and his Superman alter-ego, a simple outfit change could transform me into a Federal Employee.
After living in the Las Vegas desert for 32 years, the opportunity to spend time in the humidity and hustle of Washington D.C. was quite the experience. Add to it that I wasn't jaunting off to the Nation's Capital just to tour museums and take in the cherry blossoms. For one year, I lived a double life as a full-time teacher and and a part-time employee of the Federal Government. As one of ten Teaching and Principal Ambassador Fellows with the U.S. Department of Education, my duality left a forever impression on not just my views on education and policy, but on my humanity, and my faith in educators.
The story of the nine amazing educators and the many, many career professionals at the Dept. will come at another time. For now, I just want to focus on how my 525,600 minutes as a Fellow impacted #thisteachersjourney.
From the application all the way to the interview, I was honest from the get-go. I am a hardworking teacher with a slight addiction to professional development and challenge. I knew very little about educational policy. I'm a perfectionist and a quick learner, but had much to learn when it came to policies and titles and government ethics and federal buildings. I was ready to tackle whatever was thrown my way...if I was chosen to be a Fellow. The application and selection process was long. Months to be exact. It required essays, phone conferences, reference letters, writing samples, pages and pages of application documents, a flight to D.C. for an interview, and many hours of waiting. From December of 2015 to May of 2016, there were many, many hours of waiting. The glimmers of hope appeared in emails beginning with "Congratulations...". That was enough to advance to the next phase. When I was asked to come to Washington, it got real.
After stress, self-doubt, and some sleepless nights, I boarded a flight for Reagan National Airport for the face-to-face interview that would determine how my next school year would be measured. Fast-forward to meeting some wonderful educators from all over the country, and sharing nine hours of introductions, nerves, and fish bowl conversations. That day, just like a school year, flew by, and I was back on a plane headed home to fabulous Las Vegas.
The longest three weeks of my life began when I touched down at McCarran Airport. Three weeks of obsessively checking my cell phone. Three weeks of telling myself it was ok if I wasn't chosen, "it was an honor just to be nominated." Three weeks of knowing that the people I met at that interview were people who all deserved to serve as Fellows, and who would do right by educators, students, and their families. 30,240 minutes until I got a missed call from Washington D.C.
Before I called back, I engaged in a little self-talk. "It's ok to cry, Dallas." "It's ok if you didn't get selected, you can always reapply." "Hold it together Johnston, there's no crying in federal education policy." With the pep talk out of the way, I dialed. The voice on the other end belonged to a woman whom I admired from the moment I haphazardly walked into her office before the Fellowship was even in my sights. Gillian, whether she knew it or not, intimidated and inspired me all at once. Educated, confident, nurturing, and knowledgeable, her voice was the on the other end of the phone line, delivering the news that I would be the first teacher from the state of Nevada to be a Teaching Ambassador Fellow. I told her I wanted to hug her, then thanked her, and then thanked her a few more times before ending the call. I did cry. After hanging up, of course, and only for a nano-second, because I was at school and not crying at my desk is a lifelong goal.
There is so much more to this story, but for now, I will say that everyone of those 525,600 minutes gave me the chance to learn, to grow, to question, to advocate, and, most importantly, to discover my voice as a person who will no longer settle for closing my classroom door or my mouth, when I know that my ideas, and my actions can move the needle of change.
My 525,600 minutes working in Washington, may have come to an end on paper, but the people, like Gillian, and my inspiring team will live with me forever. My skill set will continue to grow, my words will continue to become more precise, and my advocacy will swell so that I can say I've spent my minutes, those of my Fellowship year, and all the minutes that lie ahead, doing what I felt was right.
"Once a Fellow, always a Fellow", is more than a saying; it is truth. The Fellowship advanced this teacher's journey, and for that, I will be forever grateful.
