Best of Both Worlds?

I may have found a happy medium between starting life and teaching. It’s a non-profit organization that places high-performing recent graduates in low income schools in an effort to narrow the playing field for under-privileged students. In exchange for two years service, you receive a teaching certificate, receive scholarships for masters degrees, a full salary and benefits from your school district, and the possibility of getting student loans forgiven. I’m even able to request a city (I chose Washington, naturally). But the work is hard. Really hard. I thought Mom would be impressed, but she was far from it. The prospect of me living or even just teaching in the inner city upset her. She started to talking to everyone at work—other nurses, patients, friends of patients, some of my own family members—who all curiously said the same thing: don’t do it. In spite of the discouragement I was receiving from the homefront, I applied and landed an interview.
Their interview process is somewhat unique in that I had to prepare a five-minute sample teaching lesson, participate in group and individual problem solving activities and then finally have a personal interview. And you interview with twelve other candidates, although you are not competing with them; the organization takes as many candidates that meet their qualifications.
The day of the interview, I was feeling confident. This was my first professional interview and I had prepared by asking my roommates—all business majors—about my resume, what to wear, how to go about following up. I even bought my first suit over spring break. So when I went into the interview, I was prepared enough to know roughly what to expect, but ignorant enough to not be completely nervous.

My sample lesson (the poetic structure of haiku), could not have gone better. I timed it perfectly and the other candidates seemed to respond well to the activity I planned. My opinions and arguments were very present during our group problem solving activity, but I was careful to listen to others. And my writing portion was, expectedly, probably my strongest element. So once the afternoon rolled around and my personal interview came, I was confident and relaxed.
And then the questions came rolling in. Why this program? What goals would you set for your students? What do you think is the hardest challenge facing these students? She asked how I kept myself organized and I explained my planner system (I actually heard later that in a separate interview, she actually asked to see someone else’s planner…can they even do that?). I had obviously prepared all sorts of answers to questions like these, but as soon as I started answering, I felt intimidated—something I rarely feel. I got flustered and rambled, sometimes even forgetting the question in the middle of the answer. I’m not sure if my lack of articulation was as obvious to my interviewer, but I felt awful and just stupid.
My last plea was my follow-up email, in which I complimented her inspiring stories of her experiences as a teacher in the organization. She wrote back the next day, explaining that my life experiences will inform my practice as a teacher in any form. I took that to mean, nice job, but not for us. So I did my best and that’s all I could do. My gut feeling says I didn’t get it, but I’m not even sure I would accept an offer if I received one. One day at a time, I suppose. I find out in two weeks.
In the meantime, back to the job search…