(This is my measley attempt a free verse poetry. I just read Tanny McGregor's new Genre Connections book, and I was inspired to give it a try. The emotions run high during standardized testing season, and Spring Break cannot get here fast enough!)
I miss my four walls.
The struggles of a single classroom seem inviting now.
One grade level needs behavior management help.
Another grade level extinguishes engagement with drill-and-kill test prep.
The indifference is daunting.
Why did I think I wanted to be an instructional coach?
The promise of broader influence and professional growth was a lie.
I believed the myth of the industrial age.
An advanced degree means nothing if you are no longer living your calling.
I want to return to my comfort zone.
I want “my class” back.