Dead horse
On teaching
The kettle is boiling.
Frenetically frustrated
manically mournful
desperately dreading
the same confrontation,
an identical identification of the root cause of our disconnection
How many variations must you hear before you
acquiesce?
How many (love) languages must I learn before you stop your
sadistic self-sabotage?
The waters of my patience evaporate,
calcified dry spots on the backsplash,
previous conversations run their course
without mercy or effect,
burnt onto my once shiny surface
your failure and destruction
American writer
A noble profession, teaching (and coaching) is full of lovely moments in which one can see the progress that students and athletes are making. Regrettably the noblest of professions are also those with the greatest potential for frustration, leading in my case to sometimes violent outbursts of lack of control. This piece seeks to explain my throught process in these moments, when I am unable to connect effectively to those I serve.
