Ash and Dust
The ash and dust has turned their faces black
Their backpacks are nothing more than a sack
The pencils are just sticks in the dust
and the paper is metal that has been tainted by rust
Their seats are nothing more than the ground
and they learn the alphabet only by sound
This is my dream job
In a country where children have been robbed
from their chance of an education
from their chance from having an imagination
I am the teacher
and although my arms are not long enough to reach
I touch their faces
this is a place where discrimination isn't about race
This is Africa
life is more than grades and algebra
They learn to survive
but don't know how to count to five
This is a place of ash and dust
in this schoolroom with no pencils or seats and paper made of rust
But this is where I belong
I don't teach them, they teach me how to be strong
This is a place of more than ash and dust
I can show them how big the world is
and they show me what life is
From America where life is about fame
they show me that children here just have to survive the day.
This is home.