The Teacher Who I Teach


Dear Teacher of mine,

I have a few questions I would like to ask you.

You always told me to ask questions when I had them.

Funny how whenever I try to ask you,

you never seem to answer,

though I am required to answer your questions.

Am I not good enough for you?

What is my purpose of being in your class,

when you are so ignorant?

Sure, you say the pay you receive is nothing,

and you devote your time to us.

But is that time well spent?

I don't need to know more about how stupid my question was.


You may be the teacher,

but can you accept the fact you may be wrong?

If we correct you,

you won't die.

It doesn't seem to phase me,

when you blatantly tell me I'm wrong.

I am your disciple,

I look to you for knowledge,

yet you give me none.

If I have to do all of the work,

what do you do?


Since you are my foreign language teacher,

maybe this is foreign to you.

You, the TEACHer,

must TEACH.

You, the TEACHer,

must follow your own rules.

Why do I have to be early to class,

when you can arrive nearly ten minutes late every day?

How is it that when I don't do my homework,

I am berated?

Yet, when you don't do your homework,

you can just laugh it off?

These "privileges" you think you have as a teacher,

do not exist.


Now this would be different if you respected me,

the way I tried to respect you.

My respect for you was like a full jar of cookies:

I tell you not to eat them,

and if you listen,

you get one.

Every day that jar full of cookies,

is slowly eaten away by your hypocritical behavior.

So to answer your question,

you get no cookies,

because there are none for you.


I would much rather spend my time teaching myself,

since your class would be basically the same.

Would you like to be the good teacher,

that everyone likes,

or the great teacher,

that everyone respects and learns from?

That is my final question for you.






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