the title of this collection as a whole, are all lines I found embedded in these pieces.
So as you read, I encourage you to notice the details, the identities, the simple beauty, the intricate webs of emotion and obseivation, and where these formations meet to connect the writer to the words, to you, to your own creativity.
"You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read." -James Baldwin
Water is everything. Water is The soft spring showers, blooming flowers, the rainbows Bursting like a prismatic pinata Out of cotton clouds and Dew on a glorious green morning pasture. Water is
The 10,000 lakes of Minnesota where Merry memories are made. Down to The endless ocean where the waves never fade. Water is Everything. Water is The crimson blood escaping our cuts and scrapes. The tears We cry to form a river. The sweat releasing Weary weakness from the body. Water is Everything. Water is a serene Sunday sprinkle and a wrathful Hurricane from the midnight abyss of The deep ocean blue to Shiny yellow duck boots splashing in a muddy puddle with Happy children smiling ear to ear like Cheshire Cat. Water is The piercing, perfect icicle
Chosen from your snowy January roof, the diverse Dance of snowflakes falling from the sky, to A forceful, biting current of cold and A gentle, forgiving flurry of snow, from The silent white winter sky to Submerged streets you can no longerwalk on. Water is A microscopic molecule and a bustling blue planet. Water is Everything. Water is the gasoline for Our bodies and the refreshing taste that never Gets old. Water is A vital tax our bodies require. Without it we Deflate like a flat tire. Water is The giver, the taker, the memory-maker. Water is Everything. I think about this while
I am a black girl. But apparently, to some people, I'm not black I don't cover my face with a black ski mask, or anything like that.
The only thing that's covering my face, are the stereotypes that cover me.
Built up and blocked, they overwhelm me.
She is an Asian girl. But she's tired of the people who ask her, her grades and she feels enraged when someone tells her to speak Chinese, read Chinese, call her Chinese, when really she's Hmong.
She is an Hispanic girl but she's not Hispanic, she can't be because her family isn't illegal, their personalities have papers and those same personalities are tired of being stripped of their culture.
And her, she is a Muslim girl but it's hard for her to ignore the stares and the questions. And the stares and like "why do you, or why don't you wear a hijab" even though the religion itself does not circle around what covers your hair, but instead what covers your faith.
Karma
When ithappens like abackstab you can'talwaystell
Thebalance of our life's happiness joy sadness andangerand Our world
Thegolden rule
Help andbe helpedgive joy havejoy givehatred have hatred
Givepositivity havepositivity give negativity have negativity it canstart
Bullyingand rise
Change
Thebalance of our lives happiness joy sadness andanger and Our world
LikeprotectiveJediandangry Sith
Darkandlight peace& war red& blue me & you
Karma's likethatswiftTaylor Swiftsong
Somesayluckistruebut
It's allkarmawith zero coincidences
Cravecoolcollaboration
Not Hatingholleringhello, Itwillgetbackat you
Because that powerful prowess is gonnahaunt you like
Aslick
Stalking silkwhite ghost
Intheback outyour (notso) smartmind
But itisalso thecastle
I Am Hmong
I am Hmong
My grandparents had to crossed the Mekong
To gain their freedom they had lost everything that they've been working on
I am Hmong
My native tongue is slowly gone
My culture is slowly being withdrawn
The traditions are replaced with just empty space.
I am Hmong
How my mother wishes for me to speak Hmong
How my grandma wants me to be strong
As being a Hmong boy I am expected to carry on
The tradition and culture that is slowly gone
I am Hmong
My native tongue was not taught to me
Yet I am pressured to understand when they speak
While trying to speak so they will understand me
lam Hmong
The patriarchal culture that had been led by men for thousands of years
Have yet to recognize my strong Hmong sisters and their intellect
lam Hmong
I am the change and the next generation to carry on
I am the challenger and the acceptor of my Hmong sisters
Standing shoulder to shoulder
Side by side to carry our Hmong culture on
lam Hmong
As brave as a lion
I try to conquer this all
As quiet as a tiger
I wonder if anyone notices me at all
Walk a Milein MyShoes
Walk a mile in my shoes and have people saying, "Ew what type of food is that," and their friend group laughing around you, I had to pick between a friend group Because "you can't be friends both."
I had to pick between people who understood me or being popular. Having to be pulled out of class in elementary to take a test, because you're Hispanic and, "English isn't your first language sweetie!"
Or going into Middle school and people thinking it's funny to say, "Don't drink the water in MEXICO" just because a man decided it would be funny to put in a cartoon show.
Forced to go with your parents everywhere because they know how to speak English correctly. Forced to grow up with two different sides of yourself to "fit in"
Or just even having to whisper in Spanish because tu no sabes hablar ingles, But having the courage to speak loudly in English so people knew you could speak it.
Walk a mile in my shoes and have people threatening to call ICE on you but it's just a "joke."
Going to school and teaching your social studies teacher the correct meaning of your culture because they don't know. Going to school and people saying, "OMG I LOVE MEXICAN FOOD"
Just because Taco Bell is their favorite. Walk a mile in my shoes and see the beauty of Mexico, The smell when you first walk out of the airport, and seeing people selling flavored ice just to be able to eat that day. Seeing dogs, cats with one eye, and children dirty playing
WhereI'm From
I'm from those who Wake up before the sun
Opens their eyes
I'm from those who Put their head on the floor 34 times
I'm from those who Pray to the one who gave us life and Will let us rest
I'm from those who Don't eat or drink
From when the sun wakes up until He greets the moon
I'm from those who Solemnly and
Solely serve the one who Sits on a throne in the skies
Where am I from?
Who am I?
I am a Muslim
A person who's Prayer for his heart
Feels like the sun on a cold & cloudy day
If you want safety and peace He is As-Salam, the giver of Peace
When in need of forgiveness He is Al-Khaliq, the forgiver
When you need something of this world He is Ar-Razzaq, The sustainer
As you hear
These amazing names Recall to yourself
The Boy on Elliot Farms: An Excerpt
It was a sunny afternoon on Elliot farms, and Claire, the farmer's only daughter and child, was so tired from her morning chores she fell asleep in the family's barn. Wesley, the farm's only farm hand, went into the barn to millc Polka the cow when he saw Claire. Wesley was not surprised to see her laying there on a bale of hay. Claire very often fell asleep in the barn because she was always staying up until 3 a.m. baking pies, coolcies, cakes and other sweets for the town folk. If you ever went into her house, you would think it was a bakery!
Wesley went into his sack, pulled out his harmonica, and blew it as hard as he could to wake up Claire, and it worlced! Claire immediately sprang up from the hay. Claire is known as the town beauty. She is very attractive even when she has hay in her hair. Wesley had always been in love with Claire, though he would never admit it. His love for her started when Claire and her father moved in about ten years ago when the poor girl's mother died about the time both of them turned seven. At first Wesley thought Claire was bratty and stupid, but quickly learned to love her with all of his heart because of her sweetness and love for almost anyone, but him. Claire didn't hate him and wasn't mean, but she almost seemed to not notice him. And that was the problem.
See, Claire got into the most prestigious baking school in the country and was leaving in three weeks, so Wesley promised himself he would make her love him and not leave before her school started. It was a big task, but he was determined to do so. So, when Claire woke up she yawned for a minute, which gave Wesley the perfect amount of time to run away. "Uuh, that was a close call, she almost saw me. If
"Come on Tommy!" shouted Daniel Rose. "This house looks like a good one!" Daniel's friend Tommy Keller came running after Daniel. They both ran up the steps and to the porch. They knocked and waited.
Suddenly a man walked outside with a big bowl of candy. "Trick or treat!" said Daniel and Tommy.
"Here ya go!" said the man. "Two candy bars for each of you!"
Both Daniel and Tommy lived in the same city... the same neighborhood... and went to the same school. They lived in a city called West Valley with a population of 33,126. The County they live in is called Payster County.
When they left the man's house, Daniel noticed a football next to his house. Daniel decided to punt it. He ran up to it and gave it a big kick "That's not your football!" said Tommy. Daniel rolled his eyes.
The football went up really high... and came down really fast, and hit a high schooler right smack in the middle of his head. Another high schooler near the one that got hit on the head noticed Daniel and Tommy.
"Hey!!" he yelled. As he pointed at Daniel and Tommy, the high schooler who got hit on the head spotted the two boys. He stared at them with his big blue eyes... he could hear their panting... he could smell... and taste their sweat... and he could feel their fear.
Pipsqueak was interrupted by a bad grumble. "Grr Grr grr add!"
"Fly!" Sage screamed as they flew into the open sky. Tears ran down their cheeks as they watched home fall apart. Then Sage screamed at Pipsqueak, "This is all YOUR FAULT!"
"I...I didn't do anything!" Pipsqueak stuttered. Startled.
"It happened when YOU got here!" Sage yelled furiously, then flew in silence. Occasionally, Sage would burn a tree, imagining it was Pipsqueak. Suddenly Pipsqueak yelled, "LOOK! A baby unicorn! Another baby like us!"
The two flew down and Sage said, "Hi, I'm Sage and this is Pipsqueak. Who are you?"
"I am called Lucy," the baby unicorn said smiling.
"Wanna come with us? Make sure Pipsqueak ," they gave a look of hatred as they said it, "doesn't destroy anyone else's home."
"I have to ask. Are you guys boys or girls?" Lucy asked.
"Pipsquealc's a boy. I am neither. I am a They/Them," Sage replied.
"Cool!" Lucy replied, relieved that she wasn't the only at least half female.
Sage piclced Lucy up. As they flew Pipsqueak said, "Uh, oh, we have a problem. There was a tornado up ahead.
The pillars started to glow with a golden light and then the pillar with a wolf standing on it glowed blue. The crowd cheered in either joy or defeat. A tall man with grayish blackish hair and a furred coat stepped forward. "Welcome to the wolf pack," he said. The man pulled him to a small group with similar clothing. He watched Mya step out to the platform. The pillars glowed gold once more. Klondike held his breath.
The pillar with an eagle with outstretched wings glowed blue. The crowd cheered and a feather cloaked figure stepped forward to greet her. "All right everyone, that's the last one, welcome your new members and have a good year," General Kori said. "Alright we've got a long way to go and not much time, my name Kayne and I will be your guide, new members step forward," Kayne commanded. Klondike and everyone else stepped forward. "I want you to tell me your names and then I'll teach you how to transform. Let's start with you" he said as he stopped right in front of Klondilce. "Um... my name's Klondike," he said. Somethingflashed in Kayne's eyes but Klondike didn't lmow what. "To transform, imagine running through a forest, hunting, and having fun and then you'll find yourself as a wolf." Klondike imagined all those things and then his body changed to the figure of a wolf.
"Wear these, they're your uniform," he said as he handed him a pair of the wrist cuffs that everyone was wearing. "You imagine things you would do as a human and bang, your human, well, not really but at least in a human form," he said.
Klondilceimagined lying in bed, alone wishing Mya was next to him. He changed bade into human form. Kayne did this to everyone and when he was done he commanded everyone, "Okay, transform into wolf form and we'll run
So, I tiptoed up onto the bridge with Sandry. Neither of us noticed that the planlcs crealced a little and could barely sustain our weight. Georgia followed my example and stepped on the bridge. Creeeeak! The planks snapped under all our weight.
Georgia jumped backward out of the way, but Sandry and I couldn't. Thanldully, we didn't land on the goslings, but the mummy goose who was watching her goslings got very, very mad. She hit us with her wing. Apparently getting hit by a goose feels like a boxer giving you an uppercut in the chest. We ran up the other side of the creek before Mummy Goose hit us again. Sandry and I were drenched, but that didn't discourage us from running out of the brook and into the woods. We separated at this skyscraper tall oak and split in different directions. She went up and I went around and kept running. I was sure she followed me, but when I turned around, she wasn't there. I couldn't follow my trail because I had been running, so now I was lost.
I better let Georgia tell the story from here. She's been fuming about us leaving her and I do not want to get kung fued again. Yes, Georgia kung fu-ed me when I ate her whole bag of crisps! Well, I have to let her tallc and hear her part of the story, the part where I can slip away from her and hide.
Georgia's Story
Alright maybe I shouldn't have kung fu-ed Victoria, but I bought those (huge size) crisps with my allowance. Anyway, back to the story. I got mad and felt like breaking something, so I hit a tree. It wasn't the smartest object to hit, but I hit it anyway. I knockedbark off it, but that wasn't the worst part. It had a hornet's nest in it. The impact I created shook the tree like a rocking chair. The hornet's nest fell, and a bazillion hornets rocketed out. They loolced for someone to blame and found me! So, I nimbly leaped away, vaulted over the brook
Once There Was a Girl
Once there was agirl namedLucky. Shelivedinthe city. She livedwith her dadandtwin sister, Penny, whowas thirty seconds olderthan her.
Luckylovedtoride herbike offto the country, but herdad did not like it.
Dad said, "Lucky! Penny! Do notgo to the country!" This made Lucky'sheartdrop like astone. Sheloved thecountry. When herdadwas at work, she would takeout herbike and grab herfavoritebookand then ridetothe country. Once she got there, she would sitdownand readunder a hugeapple tree next totwo pine trees and ariverthatcould haverun all the way to Alaska. But, whenher dad wouldsay this, she would say, "Yes, father," and bow her head low.While her sister said, "Of course, father, I'd never think ofit."
Thismightsoundalittleweird,but her bestfriendwas a goldfinch namedLeo. He would come toherwindowevery singlemorningandhappily chirp. Leo hadablackdoton his headandon hisstomach.
One morningshe wokeup toLeo chirping. "Hello, Leo," she saidhappily, andopened thewindow. Leoflew inand landed onherfinger. In time, he flewaway. Shegot dressed intoa blue dress, black pants, andputherhair ina ponytail. Shewalked downstairs. On herway, sheraninto hertwin sisterPenny'sroom andwoke her up. "Penny!Penny! Wake up!" shesaid,shakingher sisterawake. "Lucky," Penny grumbled, "I wantto go backtobed." But,shegotupanyway. Luckysmiledand brushedherstrawberryblondebangsout ofher face.
Shestoppedbythe apple treeandsaid, "HowamI supposedto findmy momanyway?"
Andthensheremembered,whenshewasseven,she found apictureofayoungwomanthathadthesamehaircoloras herandshe assumed itwasher mom. She tookiteverywhere with her. Then, she reachedher hand intoher pocketand pulledoutherpicture.
Itturned outherdadwantedtoliveinthe cityandher mom wantedtolive in the country, andthey brolrn upoverit.
He set out with Dragon. After a while, he heard a dragging noise behind him. He spun around and his heart stopped. His rope was untied. I should be fine, he thought. I know the way. But the woods felt different and hostile. He was scared. Suddenly, Dragon hissed and Jasper saw smoke. The smoke, as Jasper soon saw, was coming from a campfire where men were eating dinner. Jasper had a strong urge to tell them this is private property, but he stood still as a statue. Then a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Hey, boys! I got fresh meat!!" shouted the man holding Jasper in place. Jasper could smell his breath. It smelled like rotten eggs. "Nah," the man said, "just kidding. It's some kid and an iguana!"
"No way some kid has a pet iguana!" shouted a guy from the campfire.
"Wanna bet? I'll bring him over," shouted the man grabbing Jasper.
Jasper felt confused. Who were these people on his property? Were they lost? When Jasper was with the other men, they asked him if he had any food. He said no and then asked why they were on his property. "This is ancient times," said the man whose breath smelled lilce rotten eggs. "There are only tribes."
Jasper was even more confused now. Somehow, he had traveled back in time. "What?" he said. "I live over there." He pointed in the direction of his house.
"Then let's go now," one of the men said.
The Enigma of Revenge
The sun wakes me up; blinding rays blanket my eyes. Today, my eighteenth birthday, I can finally do what I've wanted to do all my life. My eyes look for Maa's elaborate music box, a wonderful thing, nothing could give me any more comfort every morning. Papa in the other room is awake, scratching his neck, his sober green eyes looking at me. He shuffles toward my bed, the floorboards creaking, and hugs me.
"Happy Birthday," he says weakly. I reply with a smile and a hug. Papa is the gift I get every day. So, I don't need a gift. Papa has been depressed and lonely since my mother died. I will never forget that day, the ruthless person abandoning and stabbing Maa, running to Gnome Forest. I know I will find him. And avenge my mother. Tonight, I go to the forest. I make tea for my Papa and go to milk our cow. Papa's farm has a lot of work with wheat and barley. This may be the last time I see it. So, I will do it without a complaint.
As the clock strikes ten, it's time to go. I take food, water, rope, an axe, and a painting of me, Maa, and Papa. And the music box. I look at Papa soundly sleeping, his back bent from years of fieldwork. I kiss Papa on the forehead and glance at him, taking in every detail of him, from head to toe. I close the heavy wooden door with almost no sound. I head west toward the Gnome Forest, walking determinedly on the trail, forgetting everything about the world: Just one mission. Find him. Find him. Those words keep me going. As I walk even faster, my breathing gets heavier. Mud slowly engulfs my shoes. But I don't care. My mind travels from thought to thought, unable to stop. I can see the trees from here, leaves shining in the crescent's light. The cold night air grazes my cheeks as I startrunning.
Rivers of Tears
When Alula woke, she was tired, as usual. She went over to her mom's cot to wake her. Alula had been taking care of her mom for four to five years. She did not remember exactly when her mom got sick, when the good times stopped, or when the memories of happiness and laughter started to fade, but every day her mom got worse, and every day Alula's hope faded. She had tried everything to heal her, but nothing seemed to work, nothing helped, nothing would make her better, but still, Alula tried. Most mornings she went to the town to see if there were any new healing medicines, hoping, wishing that there would be something there that might heal her mom. Today she went into town to trade things she had or had found for food. She found someone who had soft rice, her mom's favorite. She walked to her home right on the outskirts of town, a small shack, one room, where she had lived all her life. She had never known another home. When she walked in the door she called out "Mom." She received no response. "Mom... I brought soft rice, your favorite." She tried again. She assumed her mom was asleep, as she was most days when Alula got home. So she set her bag down and, found the small pouch of soft rice she had traded for in town, then she grabbed a wooden bowl with small holes in it and a piece of cloth, and she headed down to the stream behind their house. She draped the cloth over the bowl and slowly poured the rice in. As she dipped the bottom of the bowl into the clear stream its icy water stung her skin. When she walked through the back door she saw her mom lying on her cot, fast asleep, looking so peaceful and calm. Alula began preparing the rice. After a while, Alula glanced back at her mom, who lay there just as she had before. She had not moved at all since Alula had walked through the door. Her eyes drifted to where she should have seen the
Fighting
Trying to survive while wanting to die is like
Holding a hand for someone in the underworld
Holding a hand and feeling nothing
Trying not to turn bade at the last second
Only to see yourself in the same place like last time.
A part of you is gone and the other inside
Just wishes for their life
To be carefree again.
But no matter how much you lceep wishing, how much you keep thinlcing,
Nothing will be the same ever again.
But we are not Orpheus.
But we are not Eurydice.
And, we are not turning back to see nobody at the end of the line.
We are like gladiator warriors
And we are fighting constantly for our lives.
And we will live to see another day and more days after that.
We are the victors standing
At the end of along-fought battle.
With our weapons drawn, And the crowd roars,
Webattle to the death for a life that we earned.
If in the midst of battle, should you think about surrendering, If in the midst of battle, should you want to lose, Remember what else you will fight for
Remember that it's worth more than just dying for...
So, raise your weapon, So, fight for your life
Like you'll die.
So, fight the opposition
Like you'll die.
New Chapter
Moving on to a new chapter, Leaving others behind.
Meeting new people, Leaving others behind. Making new memories, Leaving others behind. Being miles underwater, Feeling crushedby the weight. Like the tale of a whale pushing you down.
Homework, algebra, stress, Drama, bullies, fights. New chapter.
Freedom, choice, Balance.
Nostalgia, growth, self-discovery. New chapter.
Climb a ladder they say, It gets harder as you go, It tires you out and wears you down, But you know you can see the sun best at the top, So, you keep going.
Billions of lanes each going, Filled with traffic, Heart
Everyone Is Different
Stories that need to be told new and old
To make a difference just like being cold on a blizzardy winter day
A difference
A difficulty
And a community
There are many differences and difficulties with life
Lots of different ways to thrive in your life
But everyone goes through some of the same things
Young and old
Everyone has met someone one that is bold
And someone that can never be too old to be mean or audacious
But just like gold as a big blazing star
Is whenyou find someone
Who is always kind and delightful and bold
Differences are what the world is made up of
But they are not all good differences
Young and old stand bold just like a lion stands in the morning
To make sure that no one is frigid
And so no one feels lonely or alone
Because no one should feel lonely or alone ever 'cause
Everyone is different butbeing different can be
An amazing thing as well as being a community of gracious and kind people
And being different
Is how we are alive right now on
This earth 'cause if we were not different
Then the world would just be boring and old
So, try not to be boring
Conflict & Genocide
Upon this hill I stand, lay the bodies that may lie still; mercilessly killed by our own destruction. Stinking like skunk spray in the summer's rays stacking taller than the tallest hills.
Who are we to destroy? Who are we to kill?
I look at my weapon; I look at myself. I see a monster of great proportion. More destructive than anything imaginable. The landscape is charred like charred wood, stinking like a burning pile of Garbage.
Riddled with holes like Swiss cheese, the bodies laid like Fallen trees. I take a deep breath and hope to myself
That I see an end to this.
To return to my family.
To have family dinner again.
Am I on the right side?
Is this morally justified?
Why am I fighting? I can't tell, I don't remember
But will it end? Hopefully. I pray that my mind can be at peace. Like the silent winds at home. The gentle breeze that may caress my face once more.
Wanted to travel and seedifferentthings, Newthings mostly, Different cultures, Differentpeople, Havedifferentexperiences.
Like Skydivingin Brazil, Bungeejumping in New Zealand, Serengeti National Park inAfrica, ColosseuminRome, Bangkok Chinatownin Thailand, andThe Great Ocean Road inVictoria, Australia.
As a child Iwas constantlybadgering myparentswith questions, "Mom, Why domosquito bitesitch?" "Dad, Howdoes aseedknowwhentosprout?"
You couldalmost alwaysfindmereadingabook Stillcan
Curled upwitha blanketandmy big teddy bear Reading a NancyDrew mystery Or "The HumanBodyfor Kids" Didn'tmatter much to me. Books grabbed meandwhiskedmeawayintosomewhere newandexciting
I was almostneverbored, I was constantlydoing something, Like the time I dissecteda frog ha, "splat" Andthen criedabout it foraweek afterwards
Small little scienceexperimentsinthebackyard
With littlebrothersas my accomplices
Going to the museumat the libraryevery dayinthesummer, Anditnever gettingold.
InMyWorld
In my world, I see division
Americans fighting over silly things
Brothers enraged at the thought of a differing opinion
Siblings saying silly things like "Don't think that" or "How dare you believe that.
People getting offended at every small thing
Blowing up in a fit of rage if someone doesn't think that they are the king
Kids fighting kids
Teens fighting teens
Adults fighting adults
Americans fighting their own fellow Americans
Yes, there are issues, but nobody seems to care anymore
They just have to be right
The principal prodigal princes of no peace
They simply argue just to fight
And look where that's ended up
Our country, and our world, in shambles
In my world, I see division
In my world, I see strife
People living on the streets, ruining their lives
Drugs, alcohol, gang violence, and the lot
All across the world, they seem to dot
The fighting in the streets is like a storm that won't relent
The whole world seems so violent
Substances have taken so many lives
Leaving heartbroken wives
Knives undoing any sense of peace
Guns, a crack of dark thunder that leads to tears
Yes, there's been hardship for thousands of years, but shouldn't we be better than that
The World Keeps on Spinning
The world keeps on spinning like a top on the table that just won't stop
That doesn't mean we'll be here forever five mass extinctions
Each one deadly to one or another none were friendly
A sixth may be looming like a snow-capped mountain over a rushing river
But this time it will be different the odd one out
Not just an asteroid acid ocean or an atmospheric freeze
No, the world keeps on spinning
The world keeps on spinning
But we are the diabetes, the disease making
Our planet works overtime just to stay clean
We spew gas into the sky like a teakettle spewing steam
We dump sludge into rivers and throw trash in the sea
But the world keeps on spinning
The world keeps on spinning, and we run around it like ants
Massive colonies waging war on each other with Ever-advancing technology so that no one even Cares for our planet's ecology the way a mother should
We need to open our eyes as a newborn for the first time
And the world keeps on spinning
The world keeps on spinning
We dig into this earth as if we are huge moles we Fight this world's survival as if we are kidney cancer, we Break down its barriers and demolish its protections, we Think we are invincible, but death is right around the corner
Yet the world keeps spinning
In My Community I See Teachers
In my community
I see teachers struggling to pay their bills. I hear them talking about maybe getting a second job.
In my community
I see young adults spotting their teachers And their brain gets so excited And sends messages to their nervous system to squeeze their teacher until they can't breathe.
In my community
I see teachers being taken for granted. They get treated like trash. They are treated like they are not important. I bet if all the teachers quit
people would be noticing how important teachers were. In fact people would start begging for teachers to come back.
No one can handle 25 to 30 students in a classroom better than a teacher.
In my community
I see teachers working longer than they are supposed to.
I see them walking into their houses and instantly opening their laptop to grade work and answer parents' emails. Their brain is consistently working sending messages to every signal nerve just like they do with the parents' emails.
In my community
I see teachers working as a little bit of everything.
My Joy Is In
My joy is in kicking
The soccer ball of Leather and Steel and Making the score 1-0
At the beginning of The Soccer match we Compare to a Death Brawl
My joy is in
Scaring my sister and Making her scream like A little mouse that Was caught nibbling a bit Of cheese in the hole
In the wall
My joy is in Talking a lot while Doing homework
On a sunny evening In April And May
My joy is in Asking for a Cat so it can Sleep on a mat And so we Can chat
