Farewell

swinging on the tip of the plane
as it cuts through the dark night.
gazing upwards to twinkling stars
but downwards to my heart.

departing from the land I loved,
from the place where time was still,
still moving even through golden days
and silver nights, resting on memories passed.

memories of the days of old
where not I, but others were the ones to go.
bidding adeus and farewells, but not long
’till teardrops fell like heavy welts upon the earth.

day after day turning into year after year
and yet never getting over the heartbreak
of leaving behind those familiar faces
and passing by, as ships in the distance.

but each bittersweet departure between friends
only opens up more to be explored,
only makes this dark planet a bit brighter,
only makes me closer to this small world of ours

and as the chilly air cuts through my mind
my thoughts turn crystal as the green light beckons me on
onwards to a new future and a bright beginning
chasing the horizon to the edges of the earth

but the compass for a fantastic future
will always be cemented in the lives of our past
And no matter how the dreams of our future change
we find solace in the friends we have made, in the gentle embraces, in the sweet farewells of the past.

Broken Chalkboards

(Why chalkboards and not the current, quintessential whiteboard? I’m not sure; I think it has something to do with this odd love affair with nostalgia. )

Our schools are broken.

Even if you see the gleaming white city upon a hill, backed by wonderful and miraculous test scores and graduation rates, you still have to admit.

Our schools are broken.

And I don’t mean just a small crack in the soft exterior, or a clean break through a noncritical component. I mean a real mess of mistakes, spiderwebbing throughout the very foundation of education as we know today.

There are so many things wrong with our school that I’m not sure where to start, but in all hopes of full disclosure, I’ll try to just “start from the beginning, and keep going until [I] reach the end.”

Divided into parts because it became too long to handle. Hopefully I’ll have all of these thoughts onto paper before I die on May 1st.

Part 1: Tests.

Part 2: Rant.

Part 3: What Next?

Part 4: Teaching

Part 5: Score Shaming

Part 6: Get Smart

Part 7: Gift. Ed.