Thursday, April 16, 2015

"Peace," said Mashiaya.

Eraser shavings, lead clippings, papers strewn on a well worn rug.
Students coming, bells ringing, "do you wanna hug?"
Gestures mean, ugly, nice and sweet,
This weakness too shall I defeat.

Potential seeping, anger mounting, hope wilting, the morning fades.
Laughter loud and someone shouts,
"When will it be the end of the day?"

The smell of Springtime afternoon arrives and laughter, cries and shouts,
turn to fickleness and snide remarks,
will  they ever get out?

These are the ones I love to teach,
Their love so weak yet strong.
They ask without speaking,
Cry without weeping,
and never get along.

Some days are trying,
some days are cake,
some days I don't wanna come back.

I oftentimes wonder,
what's worth all the trouble?

But then I think of all that they lack.

They've taught me more than I've taught them,
and every day we struggle,
but I wouldn't trade a look or smile,
an "I'm sorry" "we're rude," or "You're the best,"
I wouldn't trade those darling kids,
Worth so much more than a standardized test.

"Peace!" Says Mashiaya, getting on the bus. :)

Just some of my 23 5th graders.