Next week, the children from Washington, DC will be venturing back to school. This is a poem in honor of the teachers in the trenches.
Teacher Patrol
Back-to-School time for the kids.
We'll gaze at their curious eyes.
They'll walk in on the first day
book-lightweight, hard-core street-wise.
No one knows about the teacher
or her thoughts at summer's end.
Here's a not so well-known secret
you won't often hear, my friend.
Starting a week before school day
hoping to gain mind-control
students stay just at that same age
while each year she's getting old.
It takes much more time and effort
to get revved up every year
bulletin boards and no money
just add to the stress of fear.
Rooms must be complete and set up
to inspire all to learn;
innovative, but old programs
bore the teachers with concern.
There will be familiar colleagues
who will sing that same old song.
They will have naught to contribute
and complain about what's wrong.
For the dedicated veterans
who have taught since by-gone days,
They're survivors conquering ignorance.
Hat's off to the staff that stays.
There are many who will need them
That's a simple fact that's true.
With no teachers educating
what in God's world would we do?
Barbara Lois Fullard © 2005
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