The Kind of Teacher
When class begins
I can see the skepticism
The loll of tired heads
Eyes rolling
Maybe a sneer.
At my best,
I can earn a nod
Acknowledgement of time well spent.
Maybe a thoughtful “Huh.”
Occasionally a “Whoa.”
Of course the class ends with
My obligatory thanks for their attention
Wishes for a good day
Reminders about pending assignments
See-you-tomorrows.
But if I were the kind of teacher I want to be
All the classes would crescendo
With that moment of realization
Where a teenage skepticism is breached
Punctured by some uncool grownup insight.
And I would look them in the eyes
Unrolling eyes
Attentive, expectant eyes
And shout,
“So There!”
Okay, so I know it's not the greatest poem in the world. But then, the greatest song in the world isn't the greatest, either (see below). I guess this poem is a tribute to the poem about teaching I wanted to write. I think teachers will get it, though.
1 comment:
Perfectly captured. Puts words to things I am feeling right now. Thanks!
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