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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

honeymoons 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. 

 

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