Decisions, Decisions

It is once again Sunday, sunny and hot. Normally I clean on Sundays, with or without the aforementioned Attention Deficit Housecleaning Disorder. This fine day, I’m not frantically moving from mess to mess, but slowly shifting and organizing. I shift and reorganize far too often, never quite finishing, fully aware that doing so is a reaction to no small amount of displeasure at being unsettled, of unhappiness with the immediate surroundings of my room, of not living in that ambiguous picture of my perfect space but instead amidst strangely arranged but wonderful objects collected between here and there. Enough.

At the root of this disorganization is, I think, an unsettling feeling of always being in transition, not quite where I want to be personally and professionally. Enough.

I used to think that at about the age of 27, life would automatically be sorted. Career, home, marriage, kids… I also used to be disappointed that random people don’t actually break out in song as they do in television commercials. OK, maybe I’m still a little disappointed in the lack of spontaneous singing and dancing, which may be the reason why I do both while walking the hallowed halls of school.

Recently, I made a career decision, one that will hopefully ground me in other areas of my life. I had hoped to go back to teaching at a university, English instead of art history, either preparatory or academic writing courses. Get a little critical thinking back into my teaching, sink my teeth into something meatier than the ridiculous and soulless ESL books we force on kids who hate them. Such a switch might or might not have involved moving house once again, possibly to Ankara, and possibly to my own place. Without a signed contract, I can’t make decisions about where to live or even what to do for the summer.

To make a long story short, I am going to sign a contract next week to teach middle school English at a bit of a distance from where I live. There is a service bus for teachers that will pick me up near the bus stop and drop me off at school. I will stay in my apartment. It’s not an ideal space, but I love my neighborhood. Because I will take a cut in pay, I can’t afford to live by myself, especially not in Rumeli Hisarı. Although I’m very happy to live alone, I’m also quite happy with my current housemate. So we can’t have the beautiful furniture I would love to have because the cats sharpen their claws on the chair and couch. We have, however, decided to make the improvements we can, to paint the walls and get the kitchen in more practical working order and somehow insulate the rooms better so they’re not quite so clammy in the winter. Eventually, I will have my own space, but for now, I’m fine with sharing.

What is most sobering is accepting that I will continue to teach adolescents instead of university age, young adults. An acquaintance who taught at one of the private universities made me aware of the reality of teaching prep courses. Often, those students in prep are spoiled rich kids who have studied English for at least 8 years but can't pass a proficiency exam. They can be very difficult to teach.

My decision to sign was influenced by several factors. First, unlike at my current place of employment, there is a curriculum. I will be able to teach literature, real books, unwatered down by editors who suck all meaning out of a text. I will be the only teacher for my students. Most importantly, the teachers whom I met are happy with their work (staying in one school for 5 and 8 years is telling) and by their honesty. So the administration doesn’t really take great care of their foreign teachers, at least I know this up front. In other words, they weren’t blowing any smoke up my backside. I appreciate that much more than the empty promises and superficially warm greetings I have received. Hopefully, with this new job I can begin with a clean slate and a more accepting attitude towards ridiculous decisions I did not make and cannot unmake.

Enough. I’m going back to shifting and organizing. Hopefully, I will actually finish.