I was in Paris, the first stop of a 6 week trip - at that point I had no real idea how long I would be there or where I would go next. When I landed on a UFT charter flight full of NYC teachers and their families, I was scared to death.
I had completed my 2nd year of teaching -- the 1968-69 school year and it was a momentous year for the UFT and the NYC school system with a massive impact that is still felt today. It also was a momentous year personally.
Most of the early part of the year had been wiped out by three teacher strikes over the community control issue related to the demands from the Brownsville Brooklyn community board over transferring teachers whom the community considered unfriendly to the experiment. Most schools in the city were closed, except for Brownsville and pockets where radical teachers and parent supporters opened up the schools. When the strike ended sometime in November, make-up time was added to each day in addition to the loss of holidays, including most of the Xmas vacation. I think we worked from 8AM until 3:15 until sometime in May.
I was still an ATR even into the 2nd year at the same school (the principal had let me go but I was sent back there -- he thought I was a terrible teacher - and didn't want me in a class. But he left after the strike and the new principal liked me and when a teacher left in January (an NYU law student who got some kind of deferment) I asked for his class - the AP in charge was livid and didn't want me. But I threw everything I had into it and won him and everyone else over by the end of the year -- those months between February and June made me into a teacher. And I was feeling pretty hotsy totsy and full of myself -- I never would have attempted a trip like this alone without having gained enormous confidence from this teaching experience.
So I was ready for an adventure when school ended. Many of my colleagues were heading for Europe on cheap UFT sponsored charter flights. I had never traveled alone - or even traveled much at all and tried to convince a friend to go but he didn't want to so faced with the choice of staying home (I still lived with my parents in Canarsie) I signed up for a 6 week trip landing in Paris and leaving from London. What an adventure - and it changed my life.
I had been an avid follower of the space program since the late 50s -- I really wanted to go into space. Realizing that the landing on the moon would happen my 4th day in Paris, and the first walk would take place early in the morning Paris time, I had to find a TV. I read that the Museum of Natural History would have a screen set up, that was my destination but the Paris subways were closed at night. But I think they opened up around 5 AM and I was able to get to the museum where I found a massive amount of tourists who had the same idea. We had to hang out for an hour or so and I remember meeting a student from Germany for that hour - you became best friends for an hour or so - once we got in we lost each other and I never saw him again.
The conditions were not optimal and I couldn't hear what Armstrong said and had to ask someone to repeat it. People hung out for a bit but the crowd dissipated and everyone went off to find a place for breakfast. I was too busy and out of touch to follow the rest of the saga and trip home. I returned in late August (with a mustache) as a different person than I was 6 weeks before - a life changing experience that began with finding a museum in Paris to see a man walk on the moon.
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