Planning, Packing, and Premier Voyageur?

Last Sunday I returned home from the symposium in D.C. with my mind overflowing with global education ideas, and my heart warmed from the many new friendships made. As I begin to write this, the Morocco cohort has reconvened at Dulles waiting to board our overnight flight to Paris, Charles de Gaulle. The central theme is that we all had a frantic week getting ready to leave. After the snowstorm last Saturday in the nation's capital left many people delayed and stranded, it made for an even shorter week to prepare for our departure to Rabat.

I was quite disciplined the extra day in D.C. and used my time wisely grading papers in the elegant surroundings of the Mandarin Oriental. Despite my best efforts to head into the week prepared and well-planned, it seemed every time I checked my email or reviewed the documents sent by IREX (the organization administering our program for the State Department), I discovered more work to do. Prepare a presentation about the U.S. education system?  Prepare a presentation about my state? Prepare a presentation about my school?  Prepare a lesson about citizenship?  Thanks to a little help from my friends, and some late sleepless nights, I managed to get this all together. I also updated grades, emailed students and parents, wrote detailed lesson plans for my two-week absence, copied a gazillion copies of handouts and tests, and organized my not-so-organized classroom. Somehow I  managed to run a few needed errands for packing, do a few loads of laundry, and spend a few hours organizing my suitcase and carry-ons.  I certainly hope you are all as exhausted reading this as I was this past week. Please, feel my pain.

Of course, as they say, "no pain, no gain". I felt the most relaxed all week the minute I got to the airport, and of course with the shared experience of the Morcoccan cohort, I knew I wasn't alone in my frenzied preparations. As we stood around the gate, A20-- just across from Fudruckers and Dunkin' Donuts-- and compared seating assignments while our electronic devices charged one last time, I realized that my ticket stated "Zone: Premier".  Hmm, it's in French, so that just means "premier" for "first", right?  Wait, seat 20B?  This is an overseas flight, a huge plane, could it be, could I possibly have a sweet seat?  Is this lovely woman from Air France really telling me that I should not be in the never-ending economy line, but should move to the Priority stand? The line where women carry Luis Vutton, Longchamp, and the men sport leather loafers with matching leather briefcases?

Each year I travel with students in the summer I silently pray that I will somehow get upgraded to a premier seat. After all, I am in charge of other people's children overseas and should be well-rested when I arrive. Well, after a week of my mind racing with responsibility, I have been rewarded. The gain of my pain had arrived.  Premier Voyageur is business class. Now that this teacher sees how the other half lives, she may never go back.