The Rise and Fall

I got Cologne.

I'm going to Germany in the Spring to do my student teacher at an international school. I'll be in Germany for a 12-week placement.

I'm so happy I'm trembling. Borderline tears, even.



That was me twenty minutes ago. Now I'm at the point where I'm about to find a corner and cry out of frustration instead of happiness. Called Mom and this is what I got:

"We need some numbers."
"I'm glad it's not Africa."
"We'll think about it."

She wasn't even happy for me. She kept asking how it would interfere with graduation but who gives a shit about that when I'll be in Cologne, Germany. Teaching.

If there's one thing I've learned from my 1.5 weeks here it's that I love teaching. I love guiding student and teenagers towards new ideas and helping them realize that the world is a lot bigger than anything they could ever imagine.

I want to do this. I need to do this.

And instead of excitement and congratulations I get "Karen, you should really call after nine or on the weekends. I don't want the phone bill to be like it was before."

Honestly. Just...GOD. Be happy for me! Don't you realize that this is my dream? I know deep down you are and that this is kind of a sudden thing call you about, but you knew. You knew that I would be finding out at the end of June because I told you so before I left. Did you think I wouldn't get it? Were you praying I wouldn't? I know you're scared to let me go and that your fears of me never returning are pretty well-founded, but know that I will come home when this is all said and done. I'm not going to leave you. I love you. Please be happy for me. I need you to be happy for me.

I need you to let me go.