Alarm rings;

get out of bed.

and sort out all my daily tasks

inside of my head.

 

A million things,

and not enough hours in a day.

Yet I'm sitting in this desk,

trying to remember the importance of Ernest Hemingway.

 

There are people in the army

with families that don't know when they'll come home.

There are orphans on the streets

but you, you are concerned with the theatre in Rome.

 

A twenty-five hour work week

and school full time,

but you keep lecturing,

and assigning papers to write.

 

When will people see,

that education has no price?

When will they see that people are dying,

and struggling for their life?

 

How much time will pass,

before you see that each person has a story?

Will you take the time to care,

or remain consumed by your doctorate's glory?

 

As you test me on the things 

you don't think I could ever understand,

please remember that there are people out there

who simply cannot afford the upperhand.

 

When I come into your classroom,

I am more than just your paycheck.

I am a person with a story,

and will return your equal respect.

 

You can teach for years,

and give as many lectures as you like.

but until you treat your students as people

education will mean nothing in life.

 

As I walk out of your classroom for the very last time,

please learn from me as I have learned from teachers like you,

that each student is different,

but they have a story too.