I wrote this in response to The Daily Post’s prompt We can be taught.
Teacher, Teacher
When I taught years ago
There were days when
The mornings were hectic
Spent bent over student desks
discovering algorithms
And manipulating simple
Machines and describing
Force in terms of Newtons
On spring scales that broke
Routinely.
There were days when I
Daydreamed an alternate
Career for myself as a greeter at
Wal-mart, feeling that any
Job would be better than that
Of an elementary school
Educator who spent every waking
Moment prepping, grading, or
Worrying over pre-teen angst.
There were days when I
Felt like a master educator
Full of energy and capable
Of single-handedly saving
An entire generation from
The abyss of ignorance
Armed only with a piece of
Chalk and an eraser.
There were days when my
Classroom management
Skills went out the window
And I’d find myself standing
Rigid, in the midst of chaos
In fear of losing my ever-loving
Mind.
There were days when the
Rewards were huge, when a
Group of reluctant learners
Experienced that aha!
Moment and called out,
Teacher! Teacher!
There were also days mired
In test preparation, drill and
Kill, and drill some more and I’d
Watch the lights flicker out in
Some students’ eyes.
There were days when all my
Heart desired was an opportunity
To use the restroom before my
Poor bladder exploded.
There were days when our
Classroom buzzed with the
Excitement of creativity.
And days when I thought my
Heart would burst with love.
Those are the days I miss.
Praying for Eyebrowz 