Fake it 'Til You Make it

 So I am writing this post from my Blackberry while sitting in an empty classroom in a Brooklyn elementary school. That's basically my way of saying spelling, grammar, and punctuation don't count on this one.

I am tired. Exhausted. As a matter of fact, if I weren't writing this right now I would probably be curled up on top of a cluster of little desks asleep. My internship is frustrating, chaotic, and well a bit of a hassle I run from classroom to classroom pretending like I know how to hook up smartboards and present information about foreign countries that I barely know about. The teachers are so nice, but they expect me to be some technological worldly guru that I am not.

So why on earth do I come back each week when the night before I have to treck into the city feels like the night before getting a root canal? Well. I guess as much as I hate it, I love it. I love coming to see all of the kids. They get excited when I come in the room even though I have no clue what I'm doing. I love meeting with the teachers on their breaks and talking "teacher talk" with them, and I'm pretty sure they have no idea I'm not plugging things in in the right places while I'm sitting there mumbling and fumbling with a mess of cords . I love to put on my nice boots and a pretty sweater and pretend like I'm going to a real job, I'm pretty sure I have my 7am self fooled into thinking I do.

My dad has this big important job with a company called wakefern. He is well respected, well liked, and he knows what he is doing. He's good at what he does and he is so passionate about it. When he starts to talk about his job you can see a fire glowing in his eyes, his whole face lights up and he starts flailing his hands all over the place. He wasn't always at the top though. He started by working in a fish market when he was 17 and worked his way up. He works with Ivy League grads and he barely got through high school. But he is sharp. He is smart. And he is good at what he does. He always ays how he doesn't really fit with all the college grads he works with, but he's got this saying that defines how he got there. "Fake it til you make it. " Work hard and act like you know exactly what you're doing, go with it, learn from experiences, and you'll get there.

I guess that's what I'm doing here in this empty classroom. I know I've got the fire in my eyes too, but for now I have no choice but to fake it. Fake it til I make it. Make it as a teacher. Make it as an adult. Make it as a person. Isn't that what we're all doing anyway? Don't we all fake it every day? Don't we all pretend like we are in total control of our daily lives, when really we have no clue what the next week or day or second will bring.

Now, I'm not saying that this whole notion of faking it is bad. I mean, yes I'm sure we'd all be happy if we were better at living. But what fun would that be? There would be no suprises in life; no growth or struggle. And all that passion we feel would be non-existant because we tend to be passionate about things that we need to work at. And is it really all that bad if we fake it a bit? I think not.

So go ahead, hold your head up high and strut your stuff-even if you have no clue where you're going. We'll never know. Fake it til you make it.