The Tiger (online reflection #5)
I wrote this poem in bed the morning before my second lesson of my unit. The first lesson went fine (actually, pretty good), but those perennial spirits of anxiety and low self-esteem creeped into my head; I found myself falling into the jaws of some dark foe. This poem is a response to that feeling. The metaphor of the tiger not only extends to our teaching lives, but also our day-to-day interactions. Let us beware those creatures that stalk in the brush. Let us hold onto our roar. The Tiger By Ashton Pacholski Class, you are dismissed. You walk out the door, looking up to see the darkness surrounding you. You tread lightly to your car aware of the icy path in front of you. At home, you throw the backpack down anxious to pick it back up. At your desk, you smile briefly thinking of your coronation: The black and yellow crown, the pendulous tassel, the adulation of peers. In bed, you hide beneath false security, blankets of tears....