Date: February 24, 2023 @ approximately 1:45pm
For the past 10ish years, I have been applying for one of the coveted Grosvenor Teacher Fellowships (GTF for short) offered by National Geographic and Lindblad Expeditions. Each year I would try to come up with some clever way to make me stand out from the other applicants. Once I even recorded the video portion wearing a knit Viking hat with full beard. Yep, I was desperate but also wiling to show my playful side, so no dignity lost there. Each February I would jump each time my phone rang, hoping it would be Nat Geo calling to offer me a spot. Each April, I would see the announcement for the newest class of GTFs, sigh, and begin thinking about the next year.
The day I submitted my application for a 2023 GTF in December last year, I told my husband Reid that something felt different this time. I really felt my responses to their questions were more genuine and aimed more at my students than at myself. You see, I have been working on my doctorate these past couple of years, diving into the research phase just this past spring. All my attention in class, for both myself and my students, has been focused on facilitating growth in youth to want to speak up, speak out, and act for change they want to actualize in the world. Student voice was what I wrote and spoke to in this year's submission. Once I hit, send, I left it to the universe (or at least the nice folks on the selection committee).
Fast forward to February 24th, 2023. It was a Friday afternoon. My 5th period sixth graders were working on a paper airplane project. I was bouncing between helping them and updating our Google Classroom with video resources on flight. Wandering back to my laptop, I noticed a missed call on my cell phone from Washington DC.
My heart began to race. "Could this be it? Was that the GTF call?" Checking the phone again, I saw there was no message. "Probably a false alarm. I get this way every February." For giggles, I did Google the number. Nothing. "Calm down Fisher. All in good time." Back to helping students and attempting to reign in the chaos of 38 middle schoolers all throwing test plane around a room.
Once the bell rang, I had a few minutes before my eighth graders would be arriving. I sat for a moment, chatting with Alee, my epic paraprofessional that has been my lifesaver for my sanity this past year. All of the sudden, the phone rings again. SAME WASHINGTON DC NUMBER!!!!
Now I am working hard to control my breathing as I answer.
Me: Hello?
Mystery Voice: Hi! May I please speak to A'ndrea Fisher?
Me: This is her.
Mystery Voice: I am (name missing here because the adrenaline I felt right after this line caused me to totally blank, but I am pretty sure it was Travis in hindsight) with National Geographic.
Me: One moment please. Let me get somewhere quieter ... All good!
Mystery, Most Likely Travis, Voice: I am so excited to call and inform you that you have been selected as a 2023 Grosvenor Teacher Fellow!
The rest is a blur of heart pounding excitement and awe.
THE CALL CAME!!!
I AM A GROSVENOR TEACHER FELLOW!!!
Immediately upon the call ending, I rushed to tell my principal on the down-low (I will cover the secrecy of the announcement in another post) then my hubby as I could not decide whether telling him in person or via phone would be more epic. I couldn't wait though:
Me: Feel like sushi tonight?
Reid, super hubby: Always (tiredness in his voice).
Me: Well, it will probably taste good but not as good as it probably taste in Indonesia in August ...
He got the message :)
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PS - Me as a Viking
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