Almost on a whim, I applied to the Fulbright Teacher Exchange program in early October. I had heard many great things about the program, and a friend and fellow Masters student in Nice had several friends who had done the exchange. It sounded like the perfect program for me; I would have the opportunity to live and teach in a French-speaking country for a year....but I never really expected to be chosen. I knew it was highly competitive and that there would certainly be many, many other highly-qualified teachers applying. But, if I never applied, I would never have the chance to be selected. In late September and early October, I had several stressful weeks - filling out forms, writing essays, obtaining the required signatures, asking my colleagues to write me recommendations...I felt like I was applying for college again! I mailed off my thick application packet on October 15th and started waiting.
The waiting has been the hardest part of this process. I had to wait to hear that my application packet had arrived. I waited for confirmation that all of my required documents were in order. I waited. I tried to be patient. Suddenly, I received an email informing me that I had been accepted into the interview phase. A few days later, my husband and I found ourselves meeting with our local Fulbright interview committee downtown. I had, of course, initially been anxious. I told myself that this was the most important interview I would ever have, that this hour would make or break my chance to be a part of such an incredible program. Luckily, my husband was there to bring me back down from my cloud of worries. The interview was actually quite enjoyable and simply a chance for the committee to get to know more about me and what interested me. How would I represent the US? What interests did I have and how would I continue those interests if selected? I left feeling good, knowing that I had been myself and that it was out of my control at this point.
So, I waited.
The highlight of each day was simultaneously the low point. Each day I checked the mail, fingers crossed and hopes high that it would be the day and that I would receive the letter either accepting me or telling me to try again another year. The longer I waited, the more I simply wanted to know. It felt like torture, not knowing.
Finally, in January, I received a letter from AED informing me that I had been accepted. I was thrilled. Relief! No more waiting! Or so I thought. After overcoming the initial shock of excitement, I read and reread the letter and discovered that I had only entered the next stage of the selection process...more waiting. The next step was the matching process. There was still no guarantee that I would be matched with another teacher. I wondered how they were matching teachers. Was it by age? School type? Geography? Personal interests?
The waiting was really wearing on me. The few people who knew that I had applied would eagerly ask me how the application process was going. I didn't want to let anyone down. I was terrified that after all of the work and waiting, I would not be matched. Spring Break finally rolled around and I embraced the opportunity to be away from home so that the mailbox couldn't taunt me each day. The deadline to be matched was quickly approaching - April 1st. April Fool's Day. Would I be made a fool? Was I foolish for even applying?
I hesitantly opened my email that morning in late March (I should have left my cell phone at home, but couldn't bear the thought of missing any updates!) and saw that I had received an email from Fulbright. I cautiously clicked to open it, squeezing my eyes shut to avoid what I feared would be heart-crushing news.
"Dear Mrs. Cleveland:
On behalf of AED and the U.S. Department of State's Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs, I am pleased to propose you for an exchange in France through the Fulbright Classroom Teacher Exchange Program for the 2011-2012 academic year..."
I couldn't believe it - this was actually happening. I felt an enormous weight lifted off of my shoulders. I could breathe again.
