Great News Today: Medical Clearance Granted

The headline says it all. I checked my emails late today and found the great news. And do I feel relieved? Oh, boy, you betcha!

For some folks, getting medical clearance is as easy as falling off a log. For me, well ... it meant a lot of repeat visits to doctors, extra tests -- and an extra form. Plus, there were my kids to get taken care of. So, when I got that email, I sighed a very deep sigh of relief and sent up an extra special prayer of gratitude.

One more step -- one major step -- nearer to becoming an FSO. I am so happy. What a relief!

Now, for the security clearance. My target date is January 4, 2011. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what that stands for. Is it the date by which all information-gathering must be done and my file submitted or is it the date by which a final decision is made? I have a feeling it's the first. Which means more wait time after the "target date." Sigh.

I would love to start the New Year with a security clearance. Wouldn't that be grand?

I must admit that I've been down a bit lately. I stopped reading the FSO blogs, which I'd come to love, and I've stayed away from the A-100 forum. Especially, the later. Why? Because "listening" to people worry about when they'll get an invitation to the next A-100 classes depresses me. I envy them. I'm not proud of it, but it's true. I wish I was at the point where my main worry was about getting an invitation. It would mean that I had my clearance and was on the Register.

I will be soooo grateful when that day comes!

In the meantime, I've scheduled my language test for mid-January. I don't plan to really "study, just to refresh my skills. Toward that end, I plan to start reading in German (books and online newspapers); I'll also resume listening to Deutsche Welle on iTunes, as well as talk to my son in German. (He speaks it fluently.) I don't want to make a big to-do out of this. I'll only end up making myself nervous.

For now though, I have a novel to finish and a contest to judge and literally fifty+plus novels to read within the next four weeks. I'll plow my way through that and keep praying that my security clearance goes through smoothly.

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So I Just Got Some Inspiring News ...

Almost as soon as I passed the OA, I started worrying about whether my score would be high enough to get me off the Register. I plan to take the German language test, my success at which would raise my score to 5.57. Last year, even a 5.4 would've pretty much guaranteed an invite to an A-100, but this year, matters seem to be different.

Anyway, I've been faithfully following the progress of another Consular aspirant who has the same constellation of scores. She was put on the Register in mid-June and had been languishing ever since. I felt her agony before the OA; after it, I really identified with it. Every time invitations to an A-100 went out and she didn't get one, my heart felt a little heavier.

Well, this afternoon, I read on her blog that she got an invitation to the January A-100! I'm so happy for her -- and grateful. I'd just been praying for a sign, something to give me hope -- and her news was it! OK, so my joy in her success has a selfish tinge, but I'm totally thrilled for her and thankful for the inspiration her success will bring not only to me, but to others!

Yaaaaay, for the Bfiles!

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I Made It!

I'm still getting used to it.

I did it! I made the cutoff! I finished with a 5.4, humble but adequate.

Will it be enough to get me an invitation to the A-100? I don't know. I don't even want to think about it right now. I just want to enjoy a sense of relief.

Thank you everyone for the warm thoughts and encouragement. A special thanks to one of my study mates. On the night before my OA, he sent me an email with some wonderful advice:  

When you arrive at Annex 44 tomorrow, try to leave everything behind that is unrelated to your performance. Don't worry about the past; don't worry about the future. 

Perfect words of wisdom. They helped a lot.

I'm so grateful. That's all I can say. I'm just so grateful and relieved!

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Days Away, Last Minute Preparations for the Oral Assessment

In exactly seven days, I'll be in DC, taking the Oral Assessment for the second time. I alternate between feeling composed and optimistic to being frazzled and terrified. Up, down, up, down. Every small accomplishment makes me feel better: like successfully completing a practice Case Management exercise, or coming up with a new story for the Structured Interview, or practicing those stories with my son. His feedback has been sharp and encouraging.

Earlier this week, I took another look at my Statement of Interest. Last year, the assessor gave it back to me with a warm smile and said, "You might want to use this again." I took it as a  compliment, an indication that he found the essay worthy and convincing.

Fast forward one year, I take a look at the same essay and realize that it won't do. Why? Because it was very clearly tailored for the Public Diplomacy cone. This time around, I'm applying for Consular. Now, the prompt given on the Statement of Interest form does not ask  you to explain your reasons for your choice of a cone; it merely (merely?) asks you to explain why you want to join the Foreign Service. However, common wisdom holds that you can -- and should -- use this essay to demonstrate a strong knowledge of and affinity for the responsibilities you would hold as an officer in that cone.

So, I faced the choice of making the essay general, which would be fine as I'm applying as a "generalist," (as opposed to a "specialist"). But I couldn't resist the temptation to again make it as strong as possible in terms of focusing on my cone.

I thought I did a good job, but then I took another look at it and well ... doubt crept in. So I'll be taking another look at it today, and probably tomorrow, too! ;-)

I spent a good part of the morning freshening up on high school math. Believe it or not, I never studied statistics -- mean, median and mode. A question involving central tendencies is the one kind of math problem that appears on the practice FSOT that State hands out and now I've realized why.

Last year, I bombed the CM exercise, which, as Digger pointed out in advance to me, is the only exercise where you have the opportunity to demonstrate quantitative skills. I thought the essay was all about writing and management and finding solutions under pressure with few resources. Well, it is. But a significant part of that is providing a qualitative description of the problem and a quantitative analysis of the data to back it all up. My impression? No quantitative analysis = no passing score. So, while I'm still worried about the writing part of it, I'm even more concerned about the quantitative part. Hence, I've been studying, studying, studying -- percentages and ratios and basic methods of statistical analysis. No matter what happens, I'll feel inoculated against any guilt at not having adequately prepared for that aspect of the CM.

I spoke to another one of my former study group members yesterday. She took her OA earlier this month, and had some excellent advice: find some alone time if you need it. Like me, she's an introvert, so she was exhausted after a day of constant, non-stop social interaction. She needed time to herself, but felt too polite to take it. There's a lot of waiting around during the OA, so that even when you're not in the middle of an exercise, you're still "on." She felt compelled to stay with her group, she said, rather than do what she really wanted to, which was to go off by herself and maybe review her notes, or even just close her eyes and take a deep breath. I remember last year, also wishing I could just get away for a while and tank up. But I was at Annex 1 and we weren't allowed to leave the building or go anywhere inside it without escort (with the exception of using the facilities, of course). One of the reasons I've been looking forward to testing at Annex 44 is the possibility of going outside. I'll do that, and, if I need to (and I probably will), I'll take some time alone.

She also reminded me of how the assessors will inevitably come up with a question for which you've no prepared answer. That prompted me to dig out my notes from last year, notes I made directly after the OA. There were at least five -- yes, five -- questions for which I had no prepared response. No, actually, there were six. (And I had some 20 stories memorized, believe it or not). What happened? I answered the questions, all six of them, with an agility that surprised me. I wasn't sure  they were the best answers, but they were all I had, and I guess the assessors found them okay. I scored well on the SI overall.

Anyway, I went back, found those notes, remembered the stories I'd used and polished them up. I also came up with one or two new ones. I still don't know how good the stories are, but they're mine and they're honest, if humble. There are, of course, questions for which I still don't have any answer at all. I just hope that now with more than 25 prepared stories, the laws of probability will be working in my favor and I'll have few if any unexpected questions.

As for the hypotheticals, I spent some time last week reading the FAM sections on consular work. Excellent information -- too much information, actually -- about how to prepare for a crisis, what to do in the event of one, how to handle arrests, deaths, etc. I don't expect to remember ANY of it during the OA, but I do hope that the logic, the approach that's laid down in the FAM will remain. If one or two details actually come to mind, then believe me, I'll grasp them like a life raft.

I'll be heading down to DC on Tuesday, will follow forum advice to get there two days early so you have time to relax, find and view the test site, etc. I decided not to buy a new suit for the OA, partly because of a lack of funds, but also partly -- and this reveals my superstitious nature -- I don't believe it's good to wear new clothes to something where you're nervous. I'd prefer something that's stood me in good stead in the past, a suit that has "been there" for me. Silly, huh? But there's some pragmatic sense to it, too. People almost always look uncomfortable in their "new" Sunday best. I want to look comfortable. No matter how badly my insides churn, I want to look relaxed and confident. What's that old line? Fake it till you make it?

Which brings me to my last strategy-cum-advice about preparing for the OA: find a way to laugh. I love crime shows, but over the next few days I will stay away from anything that's dark and sad and/or fatalistic. I intend to switch to comedy and read a good many dumb jokes. I want to fight the fear with humor and joy. I intend to feel light and bright and radiate warmth when I go to the OA. I think a laugh cure is a good way to do that.

OK, so back to means and median and modes and range and all that other good stuff.

P.S. Here, by the way, are the websites I'm using to relearn basic math concepts (recommended if you're as math-challenged as I am):

Purple Math.com
Regents Prep.org
Webster.edu
Jumbo Tests.com

P.S.S. About staying away from anything dark: I got a free ticket to see the movie Buried tonight, about an American journalist who finds himself buried alive in Iraq. Talk about being in the dark, literally! However, I'm trusting that the journalist gets out. Therefore, I will see this movie as one of resurrection, of someone bursting into the light! Yes, yes, yes!

P.S.S.S. So I just came back from seeing Buried. Um ... not the best movie for sometime determined to stay light. Miserable, depressing ....

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Now, For the Studying, Rehearsing, Preparing

Today will mark my first participation in a study group in a long time. I'm nervous. Very. I feel less prepared, more green, than I felt when I began last year.

This morning, I took a look at my list of stories for the Structured Interview questions and felt as though they were the autobiographical material of a stranger -- a not very interesting stranger at that.

There was this incredible disconnect. It was really odd, as though part of my brain wasn't functioning.

Maybe it was because it was 5:30 in the morning. I guess I feel disconnected to a lot of things at that time of morning.

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OA Date Selected. Angst and Tears

Last year I took the Oral Assessment late in October. In selecting that date, I thought it would give me extra time to study. But by August I felt ready and I was starting to worry about feeling overprepared. I even thought about writing to State and asking for an earlier date. I knew that my sense of readiness was in part due to the weather. I always feel bright and optimistic and strong in summer. So, I worried about taking the test in fall, when the sky would be gray and my energy correspondingly low. I worried about taking it after business travels. I worried about ... a lot of things.

In the end, everything I worried about came true. And I came away with the feeling that if I had the opportunity to take the OA again, I would do so in summer. I wouldn't give myself time to wear myself out worrying, time to fret, time to swing between being numb with dread or sick with terror.

Determined, compulsive, more committed (or crazy) than even I realized, I started the process all over again. Signed up for the written exam. Actually studied for it. Took it and walked out convinced I'd bombed it. Had the same feeling with the PNQs. Felt sick to my stomach when I hit the send button to submit them back in April. Realized that I was sick of feeling anxious. And once again, I promised myself that if I was blessed to receive another invitation to the OAs, I'd schedule it for sooner rather than later.

When I did receive that invite, my resolve hardened. I looked forward to a test date in July. Late July, of course, since the first date was to be July 21. Registration for the OA would open June 21. I would be one of the first one's at the website to sign up. Yup, that I would.

Then life happened.

My 93-year-old mother got sick and had to be hospitalized. I started spending four hours a day at her bedside. She was sweet and wonderful and incredibly fragile, and  I started wondering, "What in the world am I doing? I can't join the Foreign Service; I can't leave her."

Then I got a job that required working overnights. I learned that overnight shifts really do not agree with me and that sleep deprivation can seriously affect one's ability to concentrate -- and remember things.

Then our insurance started acting up. Refusing to pay for this. Or that. Or even that. (I mean, how petty can you be?) Then my insurance dropped both of my children. Decided that I earned too much money. Even though I'm unemployed. How, I asked, is that possible?

So I thought about the 13 Dimensions. Or tried to. I thought, "This should be good fodder for stories," or tried to. But sleep deprivation over an extended period of time can do amazingly bad things to one's ability to focus much less remember things. So I resorted to lists ... And forgot the lists!

Long story short, by the time the morning of June 21st arrived, I'd forgotten all about the OA -- OA scheduling, that is. Did I remember to mention that my daughter had come into town the day before for an out-of-town medical visit and I had to accompany her? So guess where my mind was ...

By the time, I remembered that it was OA Register Day, it was seven that evening. I knew that the dream of a July testing date was over. I could only hope for a late August one.

By the time, I was home and back online, by the time the site actually came up (it took forever), by the time I found that suddenly-asked-for/never-seen before candidate ID, and could log in to register, July was long gone. So was August and most of September. In fact, only September 29th and 30th were left.

I chose the 29th, then hesitated and went for the 30th. Mainly because I like the number 3. And  it was closer to the weekend, so I hoped it would be better for finding someone to watch my son.

I pulled the trigger. Closed the website. Stood back. And promptly burst into tears.

My July date was gone. I'd have to go through nearly three months of waiting. I didn't cry after not passing the OA last year. I was exhausted from days of business travel when I got to DC in the first place and starving the day I took the OA, so I think my emotional reserves were just about used up when the assessors gave me the news.

But last Monday, I cried. Cried hard. I think it was the first time I realized how much of a toll the first OA had taken on me. I cried, too, I think, because of everything. I cried because now I had months of worry ahead.

My very sensible daughter listened to me babble, then said, very reasonably, "I like the number three, too, Mama. And I think it's a good date. Furthermore, you have too much on your plate to take the test now. September 30th means you have time to take care of what's going on now, and time to study."

I paused, sniffled, and looked at her, "But I wanted a July date."

She just shook her head.

She was right. Of course, she was. And as the days pass, I've come to believe that God is taking better care of me than I am of myself. Between now and September 1st, I have a long list of matters to attend to:

My mother is now in rehabilitative care. She's decided not to return home, so I have to clear out her apartment, decide what to do with her things. My son is returning from two years abroad; I have to find a school and register him, or prepare to home school him for a year. My daughter has decided to have elective surgery. It would take place in late July, at the same time I wanted to take the OA and two weeks before my son is due home in early August. Meanwhile, I still visit my mom and try to take care of errands for her. Meanwhile, I'm still struggling with our respective insurance companies.

It's harder than ever to focus on studying for the OA, in part because of everything that's going on around me and in part because it seems so far away.

For a while, I thought about dropping out of the OA study group. I decided to do so, at least for the rest of this month. I was worried, too, about being part of a group wherein everyone had a July or August  date. It's hard seeing folks disappear while you become the hanger-on. But, by coincidence, many of the folks in my study group are taking the OA in September, too. So I'll be sticking with the group. Practice may not make me perfect, but it'll help. I hope that some of my most glaring weaknesses (of which there are several) will be strengthened. It's a wonderful group, too. Really mutually supportive folks.

Did I mention the upside to all of this? I got to register for Annex 44. It's in a much kinder area than Annex 1. So if the day inside is going badly, I'll be able to leave, get some fresh air, get re-energized. I intend to spend a full day in DC before the test, so I'm really rested. There are restaurants in the area where one can get an early morning breakfast (pre-6:30 a.m.), but I'll pack snacks just in case (grapes, granola bars, etc.)

Thinking about it, I realize that while dreading the OA, I'm also actually looking forward to it. It's  a rather fun day in an odd way. You get to spend hours with a bunch of really fantastic people. I know, everyone says that, so you might think it's folderol, but it's not. State has an incredible selection process and comes up with amazing, but unbelievably amazing folks. It's so much fun talking to them and hearing each person's story. And the exercises themselves -- simulating a task force, coming up with solutions to emergency scenarios on the spot -- are fun, too -- or would be if one didn't feel that an entire career is on the line.

Anyway, back to preparations. It's too early to pack for the OA, or even to set up a hotel reservation (I'm hoping for a last minute discount), but it is the perfect time to buy a ticket to get there. So that's what I'm going to do now.

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The Foreign Service: Choosing the Right Cone

Did I mention that when I signed up this time, it was for the consular cone? The last time (first time) I registered, it was for public diplomacy. (Hence, all the PD links at the top of this blog.)

Why the change?

Well, the thing is, I didn't sign up for PD because it was my one-and-only. Oh, I really wanted to work with cultural and educational exchanges -- and still do -- but I was torn because I was already burned out with the journalism part. Confronted with the requirement to choose something, I chose PD simply because it was familiar ... and I thought it made the most sense considering my professional training and background.

In other words, I chose it because of my past.

Months later, as I traveled further and further along the path to actually becoming an FSO -- and a public diplomacy officer -- I became aware of a heaviness of heart, even a sadness. Finally, I admitted to myself that I had made my choice based on calculation, not on intuition -- most importantly, not on what I wanted, or feel called, to do.

While sitting in one of my study groups last summer, listening to people talk about their chosen cone and their life experiences, I realized that I wasn't being true to myself. What I wanted, what I had wanted all along, was to do consular work -- to help American families living overseas.

Now, by this time, I was well aware of a, shall we say, attitude among some, who look down on consular work. The real foreign policy work, some feel, is done by managers, economics officers, and public diplomacy officers. Who would want a career stamping passports, listening to sob stories, getting Americans out of trouble that they "no business getting themselves into?"

I would.

Why? It seemed like one of the most grinding, thankless jobs a person could ask for. But there it was: my dream job.

Again, why?

Well, the 15 years I spent overseas certainly had a lot to do with it.

I know what it's like to try to find doctors and lawyers, dentists and pediatricians overseas. I know what it's like to go to a U.S. Consulate and need help. I know the relief of being welcomed by someone who is knowledgeable and helpful and patient and kind -- and the frustration of being confronted by the opposite.

And I know I can be effective in the job.

At my last OA, when the gentleman first told me that I hadn't received the needed score for my candidacy to continue, I actually felt a sense of relief. It was faint, but it was there. I had felt uneasy about my application to be a public diplomacy officer. Oh, I'm sure I'd do an excellent job of it -- (indeed, I have a history of excelling at jobs I'm uneasy with, a point of determination, I suppose) -- but it wasn't where my heart was. So while I was disappointed, I wasn't heartbroken. I had to wonder whether my reluctance vis-a-vis PD work had affected my performance that day.

Everything's different now. I want to do consular work. One of my favorite blogs is Muttering Behind the Hard Line. It's honest and refreshing and it's by someone who actually loves this most trying job. Unfortunately, the author writes that he's signing off, hopefully not forever, as he moves on to other enterprises. In the meantime, he leaves behind a marvelous blog, one that's funny, informative and touching.

This time, when I go to DC for the Oral Assessment, it will be with a whole heart. Of all the things I would hope to do differently, the greatest change has already occurred. I'm very happy with my chosen cone.

(Reviewing this entry, it occurs to me that maybe I should back up and explain what I'm referring to by cones. "Cones" is just another word for career track in the Foreign Service. There are five: management, economic, political, public diplomacy and consular.* Each has very specific duties, and every applicant to the Foreign Service must choose a track when first registering for the FSOT. The Foreign Service helps you with this choice by providing an online personality exam. Based upon your answers to questions about your preferences, the website will produce a tailored chart, showing which track you might find most enjoyable and/or appropriate. That being said, last time I checked, there was also guidance about the competitiveness of each given track. For more information, check the Foreign Service website. You can also find a great informal guide at the Hegemonist.)

*Corrected as per Ado's kind remember.

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Yay! I Got My OA Invite Today!

Well, I guess the title says it all, doesn't it? I'm so thrilled. I actually saw an email invitation to join a local study group before I downloaded the letter from the ACT website. I tried to take it as a good sign! Here's how the letter begins ...

Congratulations! Based on a comprehensive review of your candidate file, you have been selected to participate in the next step of the Foreign Service Officer selection process, the Oral Assessment.

Yippee, I am one happy camper! On June 21, I'll be one of those folks at the ACT website, trying to sign on for a July date. I've already figured out which range of days I'll be aiming for.

It feels great to be back in the game again. Swell ...

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Waiting ...

Spent half the day reading recaps and tips on the Yahoo FSOA Forum. Initially went to FSWE Forum to see if anyone had received response to QEP/PNQs. Found link to a schedule indicating that answers (i.e. invites to the OA) will probably go out in mid-June.

In two weeks.

I'm getting nervous. I tell myself not to be. But ... it doesn't help. I passed the FSOT, but wonder if I passed it well enough to qualify for an OA invite.

I guess I'll find out soon enough.

In the meantime, I'm finding it harder and harder not to think about last year's OA and what I could've done better -- and where I could be stronger.

Hence, the re-reading of recaps and Traveler's tips.

Also, indulged in reading blogs of the newly sworn in, including a blog by someone who was in my study group. Seeing her blog and her photos gives me hope. She's just a regular person, like me. Shy, introverted. Smart as a whip, gentle and kind and not pushy or aggressive. Someone who could, without being pushy or aggressive, assert herself during the OAs.

Nice.

I spend some time rearranging the elements on this blog page, changing the colors, an wondering, "Is this a waste of time?" What if I don't garner an invite to the OAs? What then? I glance at the Countdown widget, which now reads 89 days since I took the FSOT. I change the title to, "Long Road to Becoming an FSO." Suppose this "long road leads to nowhere?"

But suppose it doesn't?

Well, I know that if I don't get an invitation this time around, then I'll try again. I'll swallow my disappointment and re-register as soon as the system allows me to. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. And I won't think about last year and everything I did wrong. I'll think about next time and what I can do right.

No, I don't want to go down as one of those legendary candidates who tried five, six, seven times. But I don't want to give up. I've never been one for giving up.

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PNQs: Personal Narrative Essays

Submitted my Personal Narrative Essays today. Put it off as long as possible, then got worried that the site might crash on the deadline day. Reviewed them, but couldn't think of better answers than the ones already prepared.

Need to notify folks that State might be calling them for verification. Don't want to notify anyone. Have told only one person that I took the Written. Told him that I failed. Have not even let him know that I passed. Am hesitant to even write about it here. Might just "unpublish" the announcement, actually. Being superstitious, I guess.

Should I notify them? That would seem to be the most adult thing to do.

But then everyone would know again. Everyone would ask, What happened?

Suppose I don't even get an invite to the OA?

Invitations are sent out based on your cumulative score: the written plus your PNQs.

Have heard of people who were invited to OAs before but then fail and successfully retake the written, who then receive an invitation to submit PNQs, but then don't receive invitation to OA again.

Is this fear talking? Pure, irrational fear?

Yes.

Am I listening to it?

Hmmm ...

Oh, well. I'm still very happy and thrilled to have passed again. I'm grateful at every stage of the process. Just plain old grateful.

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Foreign Service Written Exam: The Results

Dare I write this? I actually passed the Foreign Service Written Exam. Again. Can't believe it. Am stunned. Words can't describe and so on and so on.

Am told I am to submit my Personal Narrative Essays by April 13, 2010. Refuse to think about it. Submission of PNQs means running another risk of rejection. Will do it, of course. But simply want to savor this unexpected victory!

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Back at the Starting Gate: The Foreign Service Written Exam

Took the Foreign Service Written Exam this morning. Feel that I did not pass. The thing is, I actually studied for it this time.

(Last year, I did a little crash studying in geography and American history. Otherwise, did nothing. And when I took the test, I was worried 'cause I found it too easy. I was sure I'd missed something.)

I studied hard. Bought some apps on the iTunes store for U.S. and European history and studied like my life depended on it. Sat down to the test this morning and felt like I didn't know a darn thing. Question after question I left blank, promising myself I'd go back to it, hoping that by the time I did, my mind would've woken up and the "right" answer would present itself.

And that essay! Oh, my stars! Talk about a bunch of discombobulated logic! I really embarrassed myself.

I'm very disappointed in myself. That, actually, is an understatement.

What made the difference? Why was taking last year's test so easy?

Two things: First, I had no idea what I was getting into. I expected to fail. I took the test because I had always wanted to sit for the Foreign Service. However, I had no hope of actually passing. You could've knocked me over with a feather when I found out that I did. Having gotten so close to a dream I never had a hope of realizing, this year's test meant a lot to me. Maybe, too much.

But that still wasn't the main difference.

The main thing that made the difference was the fact that I stopped reading the newspaper. When I took the test last year, I was addicted--addicted to the New York Times, that is. I would spend three, four hours a day reading it online. I couldn't get enough of it. I read it because the stories were fascinating and because it was a way out of a life that was otherwise wanting in stimulation. Then I decided that I had gotten way too dependent on the paper. I needed to stop, face up to my own life, and stop I did. In retrospect, I see that that was a mistake. I've started reading the paper again. Oh, not every day, and not three hours at a time. But I do read it again, and feel as though I'm coming home.

I guess I'll be finishing this post with the same question posed in the last one. Will I take the test again? Probably. I was and am upset by my performance today, so I want to rectify it. But I also enjoy the test. Call me a nerd if you want to. I don't care. The test is fun--especially if you just don't care--or don't let yourself care too much.

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