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Jia En Sep 30
Sweat
Drips down my forehead.
I regret
Joining this race
In the first place
(Though there’d be nothing else to
Do
Instead).
My whole body
Is on fire; I’m wondering what drove me
To run
At the start.
My heart’s
Used to the sprint, but this one
Is unbearably long.
Why does everyone else look so strong?
Others are
Far
Ahead of my pathetic last
Place. This is the time for me
To be
Running fast,
Yet images of past
Failures (no victory
In sight) is all I can see.
I’m tired.
My throttles have been fired.
Continuing this race is just cruel–
I’ve already run out of fuel.
I was going to give up on this website but I guess not
Zywa Aug 2023
Educational

books are given to children --


who are our teachers.
"The Queen of the Tambourine" (1991, Jane Gardam), § March 10th (1990)

Collection "On the fly"
Rajat Akre May 2023
In the grand tapestry of teaching, oh what an irony,
Heavy workloads and limited time, a teacher's reality.
The demands of planning and administrative tasks,
Leave little room for professional growth, an ironic mask.

Standardized assessments hold their prominent sway,
Personalized instruction often pushed astray.
In the pursuit of measurable student success,
Oh what an irony, tailored learning becomes less.

Creativity yearns to dance with the curriculum's frame,
But guidelines and standards can stifle its flame.
Balancing innovation and prescribed requirements,
Oh what an irony, creativity often expires.

Assessment-focused teaching takes center stage,
Holistic development may find itself in a cage.
The pressure to achieve desired outcomes so keen,
Oh what an irony, limiting the broader learning scene.

Teachers, pillars of education, yet often unrecognized,
Their impact immense, but acknowledgment minimized.
In the realm of recognition and fair compensation,
Oh what an irony, undervaluing their dedication.

Autonomy, a cherished gift for teachers to possess,
But administrative constraints can hinder their success.
Top-down decisions and rigid schedules in place,
Oh what an irony, limiting their teaching grace.

Work-life balance, a delicate tightrope to tread,
Nurturing students' well-being while their own is spread.
In the pursuit of equilibrium, an ironic juggle,
Teaching others to thrive, their own balance a struggle.

Outcomes become paramount, their value held high,
Yet the process of learning can sometimes pass by.
Prioritizing scores over growth and lifelong skills,
Oh what an irony, neglecting the learning thrills.

In the world of teaching, ironies abound,
Navigating the contradictions, often profound.
But amidst these challenges, educators endure,
Oh what an irony, their passion remains pure.
For wonderful teachers out there
Zack Ripley Aug 2022
Take a minute to think about all the things you've said and all the things you've done.
If you put them all together,
it all adds up to one. One moment.
The moment you realize your mistakes
aren't failures. They're teachers.
ShFR May 2022
Schools’, free-ish U.S.
budget cuts GALORE, burnout
Teachers:  in terror   |  are trying
© 2022 by ShFR All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of ShFR
GaryFairy Mar 2022
They wouldn't let me leave the office until I would look them in the eyes

I saw horrible things in their eyes

they wanted me to see horrible things in their eyes
koketso Dec 2021
To the middle school English teachers
that simplified Shakespearean plays to the last syllable, feeling like the same dagger of odd epiphanies.

The distinct powdery paint stained floors, acrylic smudged tables and the coffee aroma by 09:03.
An art class educated by a poetic tongue, flicking through all art movements like he existed eloquently in each.

Our engineering & graphics teacher who simultaneously mothered us as her own from the isolated section of block D. In the background, a blackboard with  meticulously drawn site plans of the highest precision. Her shouts were just as sharp.

To my spontaneous IT teachers that taught me how to maneuver through binary dilemmas and store any distress in random access memory.

Or to the person who found my wallet with my ID and bank cards but had no idea where my cash disappeared to.

The aloof B15 bus driver constantly arriving before the last bell, especially on rainy pastel gray days.

The far too kind Mrs Sharon. I've never met you personally. However, your positive impact on my grandparent's life rolled both from their tongues and into my life.

Thank you.
Lalaouna Amina Nov 2021
I could not remain still:
Fastidious.
It is unbearable to be Somebody than to be Child in the present day world.
myself in the three past years
Lalaouna Amina Nov 2021
One of the audience
she is
Observing,
Listening and Noticing,
what she needs?
Prototype!
Beyond
Only
she needs to read more
to act
in psychopedagogy class
Dave Robertson Oct 2021
We stay in the meat grinder
as kids are mostly good

we give our time to causes
that no other buggers would

we shoulder the weight
as our colleagues keep us up

we try to raise a thousand toasts
with nothing in our cup

we don’t do it for league tables
or targets plucked to reach

or for managers who do their jobs
as they do not/cannot teach

we do it as it’s in us
it is simply who we are

and we’ll do it til indifference
goes just one
                      step
                             too
                                  far
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