Mr. comes through the door rubbing his eyes
half the students are cutting- that's no big surprise.
He yawns and ruffles through some worksheets for today
a shrinking of thoughts, and even less words to say.
Mrs. scribbles symbols that recieve blank stares
and both of us know that neither one cares.
Where in my textbook does it tell you how to avoid idenity fraud?
Or what to do when your grandpa is vomiting blood?
How do I trust someone? How do I love someone? How do I get my health insurance back when they cut it off and
how do I tell that 10 year that smoking cigarettes is not that cool and
how should I help people with no shoes and no jacket to brave the blistering icicles that dangle
from the hearts of brisk-paced people that choose not to help at all and
how do I pay these debts that are soon to come?
How do I stop these shadows that wait on corners and follow me and drag me into their vans
and strangle me with their nightmare hands?
Too many take the role of molding little clay minds
but to be a real teacher, that takes one of a kind
One that does not routinely heave a sigh
and marks everyone off with a seventy five.
It takes a Mr. or Mrs. or even a Bob
who actually has a passion for his job.
One who teaches lessons of the life to come
but also makes our classroom fun.
A teacher should know that every child is worth it
their yearning for learning is waiting for you to unearth it.
We want to see someone full of human- someone who understands what it's like to have a first kiss and
what it's like when your mom loses her job and how
should we pay the rent now and
what it's like to face that blue and green spinning planet out there with it's train delays and taxes and
what it's like to be lost in a classroom
where Mrs. doesn't care about her life she just wants to finish that coffee
and make sure all the homework is done so she won't have to grade while watching T.V.
T E A C H M E
Because you want to.
Because I need you.