My colleague described virtual learning this way,

“It’s like someone is reaching into my head and pulling my brain out.”

This morning, I’d agree,
I think the honeymoon is over,
The kids are mopey,
My energy is sapped,
The enthusiasm is waning,

My brain is getting yanked,
Both of them.

My friend says, “rebel.”

I’m not sure if he means that I’m from the south or
That I’ve got an oppositional streak within.

Professional learning communities are not about learning.
They are about control and compliance.
They are about power and order.
The are instructions from a model airplane kit,
The rules to a board game.

Have we not learned about the next greatest programming trend,
The consequences of a single-minded, unchallenged leadership?
Do we understand that people are complex systems and
That those systems are uniquely suited to deal with
Equally complex systems?
Have we figured out how frameworks are useful insofar as
The recognition that they are not absolute in the practicality
For no situation can be completely controlled.

Come now, leaders. See your blindspots,
Open your minds to true collaboration
Where the warts of your organizations are exposed,
Where the fallacy of your thinking shown,
Where the ego in your position is recognized.

“Professional” suggests competency. Trust us.
“Learning” is messy. Rid us of cookie cutter approaches.
“Community” suggests diversity which will not exist when we are all the same.

PLCs are anything but what the monicker suggests.

They are HOAs, stepford through and through,
They are over-regulation,
Consolidation of power,
A denial of ingenuity, creativity, and true human spirit.

Call me a rebel. You got that right…

“Solitude v Silence reveal Christ v One Way” (notes in a margin)

Solitude: the state or situation of being alone

Silence: Complete absence of sound


The moment is now,
Heart keeping a simple beat,
Mind letting go of noise,
The kind that distracts,
Brings others into the non-thinking process
Let her go, she does not understand,
I’m walking that fine line,
Belief, commitment, distraction,
More and more feeling alone,
A place of discomfort in this time,
A goal to complete my spiritual commitment
To be true to what I’m believing, striving for, seeing clearly,
She can’t know, won’t know, doesn’t want to know,
I know, because she doesn’t share,
Sits in silence,
Leaving me in solitude,
Her truth walking on water,
Mine a beggar, stingy, thinking only of myself.
I know,


Note: This is from a project I’m working out to create poems from a book full or “margin notes.” Hack investigative work has the original owner of the book getting divorced around the time he wrote the notes (1930ish). His notes are at the top of the post.

One week down,
Virtual learning being a thing and all
I have to say it wasnt the best,
But not bad either.
There are bugs to work out,
Tech hiccups to be accepted,
Most importantly,
Another step towards normalcy.

Fumes, the last gasps of energy,
That’s where I am,
Words lost in transmission,
Brain and fingers unable to communicate,
Lungs taking those lazy, heavy breaths
Muscles nearly sighing when they finally stretch out.

Teaching is hard.

Yo, I’m next to my couch,
The wrong place to be tonight,
As I’m sitting in a mangled lotus pose,
Or whatever it’s called when you meditate,
The bowl is ringing,
My eyes are closed,
The crackling fire music is playing,
I’m so far gone that I can smell the fire…


Damn, I forgot to turn off the phone…

One friend,
Then another,
Followed by another, and
Finally a fourth
Each calling with a dilemma, and issue,
Kind of a social ball for pushing me to walk away
From my mental siesta
As it seemed that I was the one, the Neo
Who could help each of them
Smooth, or
Groove to a beat that would relieve them
Of the ills of the moment.

They should have been on my couch,
Checkbook in hand, but
I couldn’t charge these guys,
I’m no counselor,
Friend, not a therapist,
Although, if they wanted to throw me a few dollars…

I’d refuse,

Because these are my buds,
If I can help them (one guy),
Listen to them (another guy),
Talk another through a virtual learning problem (a different guy),
Or give the last one a platform to make excuses for falling behind on his own challenge,
I don’t mind.
These are my guys, my friends
I’ve got their backs,
They’ve got mine.

Whether it be
Detroit style,
Philly style,
Wilmington style, or
Pittsburgh style,
We all speak the same language.

Now, if I could just get them to say, “y’all” with the eloquence of the Goat herder,
And not call when I’m meditating…

My friends are texting about gummies.
Yes, the kind that are supposed to help with pain,
I got some at a race last year,
They did t do much for me,
Not like the coffee cake I just had
Or the apple pie from up the way.
I’d put either up against CBD
For thei ability to distract anybody
From whatever ails their mentals.
So keep texting, y’all
There’s only have a pan of coffee cake left