I asked Andrew how he felt after yesterday’s professional development.
“It wasn’t epically soul crushing.” Andrew is a nice guy. This, it must be noted, was his idea of something good to say.
That said, we spent the entire day at a faculty meeting pondering the following question. “How does the ability to read complex texts relate to the student’s potential for college and career success?” Andrew keeps a list of the top ten “soul crushing” workshops he’s attended. It’s chilling to consider that this one didn’t make the list.
I usually write poetry at these things. It looks like I’m taking notes.
7:45 Roosevelt High
it’s been a dark dawn and at the last minute
Arianna grades the long student
she smells the stale ink
and something akin to her mother’s old
her sweater smells of Tide
and chalk she rubbed off the board
she’s been beat for an hour and a witness
to nothing but D’s and lipstick
that smeared on her cuff
a yellow bus crunches low gear
and this is how she begins
nervous over her bell
and the next unit
which she promises
everyone will love