American Literature, Period 2

Sometimes I think, what makes me wiser than them?
I stand in front of my class and fancy this notion
            My bachelor’s degree?
            My master’s degree?
            My 4.0 graduate GPA?
            My endless love for literature and the greatest minds of our generation?
There are 7 boys, 5 girls – ages 16-17
They always absorb everything I teach
They listen, really listen
They take notes when they’re supposed to
They converse in an expert way
They question further
They fall in love with fictional characters
They love Puritan literature more than I do—
So I wonder, in my high-heels, tights, pencil skirt and button down
            Glasses stretched out on the bridge of my nose
            Pencil in my hand
            Hair pulled back – tight
            [I play the part well]
            Knowledge stuffed into my skull
                        What do I know that they don’t?
                        What did I do right in my lifetime to deserve them?
This worries me immensely
They thank me for teaching them as the bell rings
Some days, most days, I want to thank THEM for teaching me
            These children make me believe that there is still hope
            The youth still does value english, poetry, writing, history
            These children still want to fight for more knowledge
            They won’t say “No”
            They are determined
                And they strive to show me
                Strive to prove
                That the amount of care in inside of them
                Makes them bust at the seams with brilliance
It is true that sometimes I can only move forth and keep my sanity
Because these students are what make me get up everyday
            What give me the energy to move forth
            What give me the confidence to be better
            What create waves that are so strong
                The earth can feel the vibrations from my teaching
So I ask myself – what is more important:
1)    A profound love for literature that is embedded in one’s soul
                        OR
2)    Caring so much about what a teacher teaches
And then I realize
These students are my teachers
And we are what we love
And what we love lives within us
And spreads like fire takes to gasoline

Advertisements

About laurenfedorko

Aspiring writer. English teacher. Philosophy: know more about the world than you did yesterday and lessen the suffering of others.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s