Reflections on Education

on Education

B Y PAT D E AV I L L E

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on Education B Y PAT D E AV I L L E

Copyright Š 2020 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

Additional copies of this book are available from the Author.

Pat Deaville | P.O. Box 6294, Lake Charles, LA 70606 pdeaville3@gmail.com

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P R E FA C E “Reflections on Education” is taken from my larger collection of poems titled “Reflections of a Common Man.” While these poems are not intended to be a memoir, they do bring together many of my personal memories, lifelong recollections, and internal beliefs. The message in each poem is intended to come from the heart. It is purposefully filled with emotion. Therefore, I used poetry. I am not a poet. Those with expertise in such matters will certainly confirm this. Nevertheless, my use of poetry enabled me to open my heart and tell my story.

The poems contained in “Reflections on Education” focus on my experiences in the field of education. All involve memories of mine.

Those memories are generally presented as a blend of my personal experiences and general observations. Often the characters in the poems are a composite of a variety of people I knew. Likewise, the stories in the poems are more a composite of multiple events I witnessed, or experienced, over the years.

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D E D I C AT I O N To my colleagues over these many years.

You made me better.

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Reflections on Education You, Were the Reason Why........................................................................... 1 Grind................................................................................................................... 2 A Modern Girl.................................................................................................. 4 A Quiet Boy....................................................................................................... 6 Assistant Principle........................................................................................... 8 Climb The Hill................................................................................................ 10 Counselors (Leap)........................................................................................... 12 Foundation.......................................................................................................13 Fruitful Life..................................................................................................... 14 Her Special Talent.......................................................................................... 16 In-Service.........................................................................................................17 Last Chair.........................................................................................................18 LEAPing...........................................................................................................19 Learn.................................................................................................................20 Legacy...............................................................................................................21 Mom..................................................................................................................22 My Generation................................................................................................ 24 Next Chapter................................................................................................... 26 O.K.....................................................................................................................28 Pictures in the Lobby.................................................................................... 30 Questions..........................................................................................................32 Recruit, Retain, amd Refine ........................................................................ 34 Red, Blue, and White..................................................................................... 35 Regulations, Rules, And Rubrics................................................................. 36 Separation.........................................................................................................38 State...................................................................................................................40 Support..............................................................................................................42 Teachers Are Leaders.................................................................................... 44 Tough................................................................................................................46 The Mask.........................................................................................................48 Though a Child’s Eyes.................................................................................. 50 v

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You, Were The Reason Why May 4, 2015 Was not sure, about your class. Just wanted to get by.

Forever, did it change me. You, were the reason why.

I fought it, at the outset, as you engaged my mind.

I did not want to buy in, afraid, what I might find.

First day, I did not try much. To say so, I would lie.

But then, your class did change me. You, were the reason why.

I struggled, but kept trying. At times, I was so lost.

You kept me moving forward. No matter, what the cost.

I found out, in your classroom…was not about the book.

It was about my future. No matter, what it took.

Would wait each day, for YOUR class. Kept asking myself, why?

Forever, did it change me. YOU, were the reason why.

I learned the things I needed. I earned a passing score.

I came to you a doubter. You changed me, at my core.

The most important thing was…I really did find out…

Who I really was, at last…a winner...not a doubt.

Your class, was more than learning. Was finding, I could fly.

Forever, did it change me. You, were the reason why.

My life’s, been called successful. But you, did plant that seed.

I’ve always been so grateful. “My Best,” became my creed.

My life, has been a challenge. Just like that class with you.

And when I need a boost now. I just think back of you.

Was not sure, about your class. Just wanted to get by.

Forever, did it change me. You, were the reason why.

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Grind july

16, 2016

Teaching, is not glamorous. Challenges, are many.

Days are long. Drag, into the night. No fast track. Not easy.

Doesn’t mean, teachers don’t smile. Blessings, arrive each day.

Still there are days, when heads hang down. Slow moving.

Tragic play.

Good teachers, have coping skills. Great ones, see big picture.

Most teachers, understand tough times.

Struggles, make us stronger.

Courage, to stay on the task. Wisdom, to change things up.

Daily routines. Fundamentals. Fun moments. Playful pups.

Focused, on critical goals. Variety at times.

Firm rules. Compassion. Balance both. Methods, that inspire minds.

But, even the great teachers. Can really get worn down.

Will wake and wonder, if they can. Frayed nerves. Can strength be found?

It is in, those down moments. Great teachers, find a way.

To push themselves. To grind it out. Just work, through one more day.

A student, or a colleague. Lifts them. Unexpected.

Kind word or act. Encouragement. See, how they’re respected.

Great teachers, have inner strength. Resilient. Keep fighting.

Seem to get tougher, in tough times. That fire inside. Burning.

Some days, will go at “light speed.” Other days. Hard to teach.

Yet. Each month. Each year. Each decade. Some strong goal, will be reached.

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Grind it out. With thoughtfulness. Climbing career ladder.

Great teachers, do not just survive. They improve. Get better.

There will come joy, over time. Elation and success.

These may not visit, every day. Some stretches, really test.

Grind it out. Regroup. Refresh. Then, grind it out some more.

Find peace, in students’ achievements. Teach all, who come through door.

“but even the great teachers, can really get worn down.”

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A Modern Girl June 1, 2015 Received my high school schedule. And yes, my eyes did roll.

One teacher, had taught my mother. She must be really old.

Don’t get me wrong. Old is fine. But I’m a modern girl.

I live for social media. I love my modern world.

Did ask to change my schedule. I was of course, denied.

Counselor said, “She’ll do you good.” “I’m sure she will.” I lied.

Went to her room. Right on time. I wore my plastic smile.

Would make the most, out of this class. Would just be one more trial.

The room. It was a surprise. Half class, and half tech lab.

Hair was silver. A lovely dress. Elegant look. Was fab.

She started, “I am Old School. It’s in my DNA. Old School is not, what you might think. My way, still works today.”

“My ‘Blackboard Site’ is my way. Communicate, each day.

Don’t try to Friend me on Facebook. No, is all I will say.”

“You’ll do projects, all year long. In small groups, and alone.

Much research. Presentations too. Critiques will set the tone.”

“Each portion of each project, will be reviewed by peers.

Your answers, will be debated. This done, throughout the year.”

“You think you know the answer? Be ready to defend.

How you got your answer, matters. Your egos? Learn to mend.”

“Research both sides of issues. Do not think just one way.

Must draw conclusions, carefully. Or peers will trash your day.”

“Research done on computer. Digital is our way.

I’ll help you each, and your group too. Demand hard work, each day.”

“Internet is a resource. But it is not your brain.

Don’t cut and paste, or paraphrase. Shortcuts? I do distain.”

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“Big standardized year-end test? No need to be concerned.

Through projects, I assign to you. All that you need, you’ll learn.”

“The key thing, I will teach you. Is how to really think.

You’ll learn, and teach each other too. We all will bond and link.”

In that speech, she made it clear. Her class, would challenge all.

“Old School” forced me to stretch myself. Worked hard. But had a ball.

It was a great adventure. Each day was made to think.

Can’t say that it, was always fun. At times, I thought I’d sink.

But in the end. All turned out. I really earned that grade.

I went to see my counselor. Was on the final day.

“Want a class, with ‘her’ next year.” Did say, this modern girl.

“I like her version of Old School. It rocks, my modern world.”

“internet is a resource. but it is not your brain.”

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A Quite Boy May 29, 2015 He was a quiet student. His first day, in my class.

He’d just moved in, from out of town. Knew nothing, of his past.

I did not press him to speak. Give time, to settle in.

But daily, gave him “one thumb up.” A pencil, I would lend.

I met his Mom, at Parent’s Night. Was raising him alone.

Mother was a migrant worker. They really had no home.

I clearly do remember. When first, he raised his hand.

Three weeks, he had been in my class. Show patience, best I can.

The answer that he gave me. It was more wrong, than right.

But that, I would not tell him then. Said: “That shows great insight!”

“Can you explain your logic? Your answer is unique.

I could see, how you see things, if you, would just help me.”

He softly gave his logic. The truth. I was impressed.

I wondered then, if I was wrong. He put me to the test.

He asked, one day at recess: “What happened to your thumb.”

“War. Land mine, sheared it off. I’m good. I do just fine with one.”

Sometimes, worked in smaller groups, with skills, each child would need.

He got along with other kids. But did not like to lead.

Then came, the day he dreaded. His class presentation.

He did not like, to speak to groups. I made no exceptions.

The smartest girl in the room. She stood, when he was through.

She clapped her hands, and all did too. So much, that day, he grew.

Then, he was gone. Was absent? “No,” the counselor spoke.

“Mom had to move, to find new work.” I felt my heart had broke.

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Many years, have passed since then. It was so long ago.

Then heard his name. The evening news. Said he was a hero.

The Army gave a medal. The news report did rave.

A rescue mission. Led his squad. Downed pilot, they did save.

The quiet boy. Now a man. I wondered, in my mind.

What helped him grow up, when he left? A man, so strong, we find.

A package came to me at school. Wrapped in blue, white, and red.

His “Silver Star.” A one-word note. Just “Thanks,” was all it said.

“He softly gave his logic.

The truth. I was impressed.

I wondered then, if I was wrong.

He put me to the test.”

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Assistant Principal June 11, 2015 Was not a model student. Most said, I was a pain.

Set records, for detention served. That was my claim to fame.

I was not mean or ugly. Was well liked by my peers.

But mischief, was my calling card. This known, both far and near.

I got to know one adult. Spent lots of time with him.

Title: Assistant Principal. I lived out on the limb.

He never did, raise his voice. But had a manner stern.

My teachers, did rely on him. They wanted me to learn.

On visits, to his office. Punishment, he’d anoint.

He did not lecture. Waste of time. But always, made his point.

A few said, he was lenient. Often, detention time.

But did suspend me, now and then. Punishment, fit the crime.

Some said, he was way too strict. “The boy’s not really bad.”

Consistent. He would not waiver. Was like, a second Dad. Once, decided to skip school. Just lay out by a pool.

He called my parents, and told them. They brought me back to school.

Some said, “You must suspend him.” He said, “My way better.”

“He’ll pay his debt, on Saturday. Free time, he’ll surrender.”

I was not dumb, like some thought. The truth: was often bored.

I passed all tests, with too much ease. So, mischief, I’d explore.

Did go to Court, for one thing. Broke a midnight curfew.

Assistant Principal was there. He spoke up, right on cue.

“Your Honor, he is guilty.” I felt my hope collapse.

“But at school, is where he belongs. Assign to me?” he asked.

The Judge gave me probation. His warning, very clear.

This man, is now in charge of you. Mess up, you’re right back here.

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Went to his office, early. My parents with me then.

He had a plan, to get me through. Each day, report to him.

Before the school year ended, I was on honor roll.

Before and after school, each day. Good student, he did mold.

Today, sit on the School Board. Respected business man.

Married better, than I deserve. Now, teachers’ greatest fan.

I volunteer at some schools. Detention duty too.

Give breaks to teachers, that I had. To show my gratitude.

What became of the AP? Now, Superintendent.

Thanked him, for putting up with me. Always fair and decent.

Still do a little mischief. Assistant Principal?

My wife’s, assumed that role today. Enforcer, standing tall.

“Set records, for detention served.”

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Climb the Hill June 2, 2015 Been entrusted, with their care. Each and every one.

To teach, and help prepare for life. When all is said, and done.

Am not perfect. Make mistakes. But still, I seek a way.

To reach each one, where they are at. Will help ALL learn today.

Some learn quickly. Challenge them. If not, they would get bored.

Still others, move at slower pace. But one day, they will soar.

Not as easy, as it sounds. Requires a lot of skill.

The trick is not, “one size fits all.” But rather, “climb the hill.”

They do not climb, the same way. But all, do climb that hill.

To reach the top, and be their best. Want each, to feel that thrill.

I focus them on key things. All must learn to master.

Yet give them, different ways to grow. End result’s what matters.

Will not be all together. Some fast, while others stall.

But still, there’s a central purpose. My lessons, unite all.

My life is complicated. My plans and tests diverse.

Sometimes, I cannot sleep at night. But don’t think it’s a curse.

I caresoftly so much, for each I am their only hope.

“He gave hisone. logic.

For if I fail, to help them climb. Next year, will just be worse.

The truth. I was impressed.

I wondered if Iwalls. wasSomethings, wrong. I can’t control.

Outside, of my then, classroom Not all my students, have great lives. Sad stories. Truth be told.

He put me to the test.”

Yet, every one of them do, deserve my very best.

Can’t let the things, I can’t control, cause me to give one less.

I realize the “test score,” does blur some teachers’ year.

But won’t let scores, discourage me. Perspective, is kept clear.

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The central goal: Climb the hill. Keep everyone in mind.

Will reach the top, with everyone. But not, at the same time.

Prepare them all, for test days. Want them, to give their best.

My Goal: When school year ends for all, at the top, we all rest.

The “top of the hill” is not, the same score, earned by all.

The “top,” is the essential skills. Next year, helps all stand tall.

Test score. Evaluation. I understand the need.

But children, mean the most to me. As up the hill, I lead.

“Will reach the top, with everyone.

But not, at the same time.”

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Counselors (LEAP) April 26, 2016 Counselor’s work, is never done. Most days, are very long.

Much goes right. But must be ready. For things, that “might” go wrong.

School Test Coordinator. Is just one hat, they wear.

Much, of what they do, is not seen. The burdens, that they bear.

“Test” paperwork. Never stops. Reports and rosters too.

Biggest part of the job? People. Must help all, make it through.

Everything for everyone. It seems like every day.

Students, teachers, parents, and more. Information relayed.

Small groups. Large groups. Are set up. And trainings organized.

Materials. Security. These can’t be compromised.

Keep things fair. Give all a chance. To prove, what they can do.

Establish good environments. Accommodations too.

Timetable. Brief principals. Meet with every teacher.

Stay flexible, and problem-solve. Notes, to make things better.

Snacks and water. Do provide. Pencils and erasers.

Juggle schedules. Encourage all. Focus, on what matters.

Each day, when testing finished. The work has just begun.

Extend their day. Prep tomorrow. Just can’t leave things undone.

Regular testing wraps up. The make-ups, happen next.

Account, for each test and student. The coding must be checked.

Finally, the “turn-in” comes. At the district stations.

Stress and relief, are mixed inside. No time, for vacation.

Work piled up, during testing. Must put on other hats.

Launched full speed, into catch-up-mode. Backlog big. That’s the fact.

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Foundation October 21, 2018 Learned so much, throughout my life. Each phase, a part of me.

But, marching band’s my foundation. Established, who I’d be.

The discipline, the music. The dedication, too.

Inspired, and taught me about life. And how, to see things through.

The teamwork, and the standards. Became, my cornerstones.

Though sometimes, was frustrated. The path, was clearly shown.

Sacrifices, must be made. Commitment was required.

Pre-dawn, reporting to band room. By mid-day, was so tired.

In the heat, cold, rain, and wind. In mud. On frosty field With insect bites, and sore muscles. Numb fingers. Fever. Chills.

Memorize, all the music. Each day, we’d add more drill.

Countless hours, refining it. In band room. On the field.

Each week, a big performance. At games. Competitions.

Please the fans. Impress the judges. Live up, to traditions.

Those long bus rides. Away games. Get home, after midnight.

Up early, next day. March parade. Then more practice, that night.

At the marching festivals. Was pressure, to score well.

The announcer, on loudspeaker. Those ratings, he would tell.

The thrills. The disappointments. How it, would make us feel.

The joy, the grief, the smiles, the frowns. Was all part of the deal.

Learned how to deal with success. The trophies. Small and tall.

Humility taught. For at times, brought home, nothing at all.

No matter, what had happened. The next week, was the same.

Take one more step. Improve ourselves. As higher, we would aim.

I have lived for many years. Band lessons, still can see.

In all I do. Each stage of life. It’s still inside of me.

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Fruitful Life July 4, 2016 Read her birth announcement. Just a young boy, back then.

New daughter, of a working man. He was my father’s friend.

They lived, on wrong side of town. But, that’s where we lived too.

Most thought us poor. We were happy. The tough times.

We worked through.

I watched her grow up. Childhood. Less, when we moved ‘cross town.

Read her name. Often, honor roll. But seldom, saw her ‘round.

When I had finished college. She had dropped out of school.

It seemed quite odd. So young and bright. To me, that just seemed cruel.

I went into the Army. My new world, seemed so big.

My parents sent me newspaper. Wrapped ‘round, a jar of figs.

I read, the young girl’s Mom passed. Found out, her Father sick.

She helped him work. And paid some bills. Sold jam, from fruit she’d pick.

Those figs from her. Delicious. I ate them so quickly.

Saved the jar. Filled it with money. Sent it back hastily.

Time passed. Got a small package. Now stationed, overseas.

More figs. A newspaper clipping. Her name…a GED. My Dad, gave me the details. With short letter, he wrote.

“She’s finally earned diploma!” Night school. Some bills, still owed.

Sent back jar. Money inside. Card. Congratulations!

Her story touched me. Felt inspired. I kept serving nation.

Wife and me. Now, several kids. We moved, from post to post.

But every stop, a jar of figs, would appear, with a note.

Opened a special account. Used it, like Santa’s sack.

So, when a jar came, in the mail. Had money, to send back.

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Community college first. Oh yes, she still was bright!

Then on, to university. Student loans. Working nights.

I was promoted. Colonel. The jar came. So, did tears.

She’d finished school. Now a teacher! Was starting, the next year.

Near Christmas time, took a leave. I walked in her classroom.

The decorations, everywhere. Semester, ending soon.

Planning hour. Timed it right. (Had help from principal.)

She was now, in her late 30s. Answering, her life’s call.

She looked up. And slowly smiled. Many years, since last met.

I held a jar. Within a check. Would pay off student debt.

I’ve read about her, since then. She’s now, local legend.

Revered, throughout community. A “fruitful” life, it’s been.

She’s lifted countless students. About “life,” they do learn.

The part I played? So very small. Got so much, in return.

“When I had finished college.

She had dropped out of school.”

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Her Special Talent may

8, 2015

She had a special talent. Her voice, more loud than pure.

But when she sang, with so much joy, was easy to endure.

Those songs, from Disney movies. She loved to sing along.

Learned all the words, and melodies. She never, sang them wrong.

Then, joined the Children’s Church Choir. At such a tender age.

Her voice, was getting better then. The Choir Director raved.

Next. Was enrolled in School Choir. Still young, but talent showed.

The teacher, gave her solos now. In concerts, she would glow.

She often sang, in the car. As we drove, place to place.

The radio, she would drown out. A smile, upon her face.

Later on, when she could drive, the people, they would stare.

With windows down, she sang so loud. Such joy, without a care.

Developing her talent. Her voice, now clear and pure.

And when she sang, it was so bold, so confident and sure.

High School Choir, for her, a blast. Classics, they did master.

We were amazed, with them and her. Made our hearts, beat faster.

Audition. The musical. She worked, both night and day.

And when they posted the results, the “lead” was hers. Hurray!

District Choirs, and All-State Choirs. She made them every year.

Was recognized, at honor’s night. We had both pride and tears.

First Disney. Then with school choirs. Her talent, took to flight.

A scholarship, for College Choir. It was announced that night.

Little girl, is married now, with children, of her own.

So happy, when they visit us. Their songs, do fill our home.

They have her special talent. Right now, more loud than pure.

And when they sing, we share a smile. So easy to endure.

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In-Service august

1, 2017

Meeting with all new teachers. Before the start of school.

Information. Questions. Answers. Agenda, very full.

Forms and rules. Dress code. Duty. Procedures and process.

Saw in their eyes, so many things. Excitement…and some stress.

I took it slow. Reassured. Encouraged them. Relax.

But knew, there was anxiety. Some felt, pushed to the max.

Told them, “We will follow up. Get together, each week.”

My door, would be open to them. For the support, they’d seek.

After two long hours passed. I gave them a short break.

Then they came back, for my closure. Key points, that I would make.

“You will learn, in your first days. Each student is unique.

Some are motivated. Some not. Some strong, while others weak.”

“All will learn, if you teach all. Make expectations clear.

Establish what you, and they, do. Stay steady, through the year.”

“Set a pattern, for your class. Start first, with good routines.

Good routines become good habits. All students, need these things.”

“Excellence cannot be taught. But yes, it can be grown.

Routines. Habits. Focus on goals. A clear path must be shown.”

“Expectations: seeds you plant. What every child must know.

Soil, composed of good habits…is where excellence grows.”

“Be creative. Add some spark. Have a diverse approach.

But keep routines, in all you do. This really matter most.”

“Lofty standards. Common sense. Discipline. Compassion.

Clear-cut pattern, of doing things. Teamwork. Fairness. And fun.”

“Be in charge, but be human. Be firm. Keep open mind.

Expect to learn, from your students. Success, help all to find.”

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Last Chair February 20, 2016 Blended well, into the crowd. Could hide, in open sight.

Spoke soft, and rarely raised her hand. Her manner, shy and light.

Joined my band, and chose the flute. Doubted, it would suit her.

But in her eyes, saw her heart set. From flute, could not deter.

So, I agreed. Let her try. Sometimes, “desire” trumps all.

I warned her. Would be challenging. Braced smile, I still recall.

The flute players, on front row. My beginning band class.

When all were placed, by how they played. She started out…dead last.

Flute went home with her each day. She practiced all the time.

But improvement slow. Lagged behind. Her skill-set unrefined.

Six months later. Still “last chair.” But never once complained.

She practiced on. Did get better. Yet, “last chair,” she remained.

Her second year. Much the same. From “first chair,” she was far.

Was third to last. Clearly better. But still, not up to par.

Then, that following summer, started private lessons.

Her parents, bought her a new flute. By fall, different person.

Her braces off. Brand new smile. More confident. Unbowed.

She moved “up the line.” Bit by bit. All-district player now.

She never did make “first chair.” In her middle-school years.

But in high school, the top player. An All-Stater. No fears.

Lost track of her. Many years. Then saw her name in print.

Business person. Corporation. 2nd vice-president.

My first thought was: “Just the start.” Those above, will soon see.

She’s right behind them. Moving up. The top, is where she’ll be.

Desire. Determination. Always, were her best traits.

She’s lived, by her own time-table. Her goals. On time. Not late.

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LEAPing april

24, 2016

In her hair, a red ribbon. Third Grade. Would do her best.

She was fidgeting, in her chair. Waiting, for the test.

Smiled, when she got the booklet. Teacher, read instructions.

Arranged her test, and scratch paper. Pencils and eraser.

She touched each word, as she read. Focused and deliberate.

Then bubbled answers, carefully. She never would erase.

Boy next to her, closed his eyes. Twirled pencil. Made test spin.

Stared off in space. Worked…now and then. Took time, to bubble in.

As time wore on, he worked more. But, at very slow pace.

Took off his shoes. Put them back on. He often would erase.

She raised her hand, for teacher. A tissue. Wipe her brow.

He tried, to put his chin on desk. Teacher, would not allow.

She did finish, before him. So, read library book.

He barely, finished test in time. Every minute, he took.

Much later. When scores revealed. She had done very well.

But so had he. Top of the class. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell.

The teacher, was not surprised. She knew, that both were bright.

Girl, was intense. Boy, took his time. For each, their way was right.

Too often, we judge children. Based on, what our eyes see.

But, can’t see into their brain. Where “learning” is the key.

We know, each child is different. They just are not the same.

They learn and work, in their own way. A complicated game.

Not every child, will do well. But most, do really try.

The truth. What’s learned “before” the test. Determines, how each fly.

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Learn june

28, 2016

Each day, in your teaching year. Important, that “you” learn.

Though you’re the one, standing in front. The tables, you must turn.

You must learn names, and faces. But it’s much more, than that.

You must explore, how students learn. The level, each is at.

Observe their actions. Reactions. Discover, who they are.

Dig deep, in personalities. Then set for each, high bar.

You must learn, what each does know. Not, what you think they might.

For until you learn, where is their floor. You’ll never do, what’s right.

Explore their history too. What grades and scores reveal.

Their hobbies, talents, interests. Their dreams. Favorite meal.

You may know, your subject well. Have materials. Tools.

Research teaching. Styles and methods. Know regulations. Rules.

But all this, could go for naught. Must know your students too.

Until you learn, just who they are. Some lessons, won’t get through.

This is not, a one-time chore. Accomplished, the first week.

Learning about them? On-going. All year. The answers seek.

For children are evolving. Their lives change rapidly.

When they are acting, differently. It is their silent plea.

They want, to be understood. And feel, that they matter.

They want to know, you care for them. Through both tears, and laughter.

Children, really like learning. But learn, in each their way.

Children, also like discipline. Despite, what some might say.

Learn how to reach, every child. With teaching. And order.

Give each one goals. And limits too. High ceilings. Firm borders.

Only way, it’s possible. For them, and also you.

Is if “you” strive, to learn each day. Be steady. Open. True.

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Legacy May 28, 2016 An educator’s legacy. Is found, within school walls.

It’s not, in the curriculum. But walks, down the school halls.

It is not, in lesson plans. Nor in books. Or in tests.

All of those things, do have their place. And yes, must be addressed.

The high standards, that you set? The discipline, as well?

How hard you work? The way you work? Teaching, from bell to bell?

These, are wonderful things. But not your legacy.

They’re just pieces, of a puzzle. The parts, that people see.

Trophies, you might put on shelves. High scores. Attain your goals.

These things are great. They have strong value. Yet fade, as you grow old.

It’s the students, that you teach. And people, they will be.

The outcomes, that they’ll have in life. Defines your legacy.

They will walk, into your room. Might be happy, or hungry.

Sit at the desks, or in some chairs. Alert. Maybe nappy.

They may be tired. Or angry. Might even be hyper.

Maybe focused. But not on you. Could have pulled all-nighter.

Eager, and motivated. That could be, what you see.

Or depressed. Confused. Even lost. Sending a silent plea.

Taking them from where they are. To where, they need to be.

That is your job. Your highest goal. Leads to, your legacy.

Legacy, is not your words. Or even, what you do.

Yes, what you “say and do,” will last. How they’ll remember you.

But in the end. Legacy: What students, “say and do.”

Both in your room. And when they leave. Once they are adults, too.

Focus not, on “your” scrapbook. “Their” scrapbooks, matter more.

How they grow up. Who they become. As they, exit your door.

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Mom August 30, 2015 Dashboard light, came on again. Mom looked at me, and smiled.

Her smiling, cannot hide her fears. Old car. A million miles.

Dropped me off at school, and waved. I watched her drive away.

She shoulders, so many burdens. With many bills to pay.

She works, at cleaning houses. Rarely, see her resting.

Some people say, I’m her mistake. She says, I’m her blessing.

She and I, live together. One side, of a duplex.

The people, on the other side. Their lives, are more complex.

My Mom and I, live simply, with modest meals and clothes.

There’s no computer. Little fridge. How Mom makes it? Don’t know.

Don’t have sodas in the fridge. Tap water’s, what we drink.

Get milk and meat, at school each day. Don’t care, what others think.

We used to watch a TV. Few channels, we could get.

But it stopped working, late last year. Can’t get a new one yet.

Have a little radio. I cannot play it loud.

But late at night, I sing along. My singing, makes Mom proud.

My Mom, does not wear make-up. They say, I have her eyes.

She, is so beautiful to me. At times, at night, she cries.

I try hard, at school each day. Behave. Don’t make a sound.

When I bring home, good grades and such. We laugh, and dance around.

My clothes. Always neat and clean. Mom washes them, by hand.

I help with chores, around our home. I do all that I can.

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She came, to our school program, when I sang a solo.

Mom says, my talent’s from my Dad. We lost him, long ago.

Mom does her best, to raise me. With jobs. Some charity.

It hurts her, that she can’t buy more. It does not bother me.

Don’t know, what the future holds. What matters most to me?

That we can count, on each other. Our shared love, is the key.

“My Mom, does not wear make-up.

They say, I have her eyes.”

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My Generation August 16, 2015 We’re on campus, before dawn. It happens, most school days.

Some, in the weight room. Practice Field. A heavy price, we pay.

Dance and cheer routines, we drill. Band marching, before light.

We work and sweat, before school starts. Improve, with all our might.

By the time, classes begin, been at it for a while.

First class, is the next step we take. As down the hall, we file.

Each teacher, does remind us. Their class, is number one.

Their class, is top priority. A challenge, to be won.

There’s also clubs and projects. To help those, who’re in need.

We do our share, and then some more. Days filled, with many deeds.

When classes, all are finished. Our day, has just begun.

We have practice, and homework too. It is not always fun.

But still, we would not change it. Our lives, have much meaning.

With little sleep. With spirit, too. Pride, deep in our being.

Keep up the grades. A. C. T. And win, on each game night.

Bring trophies back. Win best in class. We try, to do what’s right.

The literary rallies. The choirs and concert bands.

The plays and quiz bowl. Have much fun. Community, our fans.

The weekends full. Summers too. Camps, and special classes.

We work year-round, to make you proud. Church services, and Mass.

But sometimes, it does seem odd. When older people say: “What’s wrong with this generation? They don’t do things OUR way.”

“They do, all this Facebook stuff. Texting and Instagram.

They aren’t like us. Back in the day. I just don’t understand.”

We try, to be so patient. But almost, makes us sad.

Live our lives, in a changing world. New things, aren’t always bad.

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Our music, might be different. But yours, was different too.

Each generation, represents, a changing time, that’s new.

So please, don’t criticize us. Our world, was built by you.

These things, you have invented. Influence, what we do.

We try so much, to please you. In very many ways.

But you must give us, ample chance, to live our lives each day.

My generation’s O.K. Despite, what some might think.

We will achieve, and make you proud. The past and future, linked.

“So please, don’t criticize us.

Our world, was built by you.”

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Next Chapter August 9, 2015 High School. Algebra teacher. A grizzled, football coach.

My freshman year. Try to fit in. His desk, dare not approach.

Monday morning. Never failed. We knew, what he would say.

“Open your books. Next chapter, please.” It’s how, we’d start that day.

Those words “next chapter” meant more. I did learn over time.

He taught both math, and life lessons. In ways, both tough and kind.

Next chapter, meant next chapter. In more ways, than just one.

Yes, an orderly progression. More steady walk, than run.

Also meant, new beginning. We set the past aside.

No matter, what happened last week. A fresh start, he’d supply.

If all of us had struggled, on last week’s tests and grades.

“Next chapter” meant “last week’s chapter.” “Re-teach. Re-learn.” He’d say.

Next chapter, didn’t mean new stuff. Although, it mostly did.

It meant to do, what’s needed most. Of bad stuff, minds were rid.

That old coach, had us so psyched. We slowly, grew to see.

The magic way, we’d start each day. He set our worries free.

“Yesterday, is yesterday. Today, is where we are.

I want your best. Focus on NOW.” Each day, he’d set a bar.

Might be new. Might be review. But every class did count.

Teach, learn, and share. Think, ask, and test. Each chapter, we did mount.

Did not learn, till later on. What made him teach this way.

His life, had been so challenging. Lived, through terrible days.

He lost his wife, tragically. He lost, his only child.

Dropped out of college. Had no job. Became, so mad and wild.

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A teacher, from his past life. Did find him, on skid row.

Bought him breakfast, and took some time. Then tears, began to flow.

Teacher, shared special message. About this world of strife.

“It is time to move on, my son. Next chapter, of your life.”

It was not, all that simple. To rebound, from that place.

But step by step, and day by day. He got back in the race.

Finished his education. Then started a career.

At first, things were not really great. Struggled, for many years.

But pieces, of life’s puzzle. Connected, day by day.

“Next chapter,” was what saved his life. Keep moving, come what may.

Yes, he taught us many things. Algebra, at the start.

In each class, helped us understand. He touched, both mind and heart.

“Must focus on the present. The past is no excuse.”

Next day, next week, next month, next year. “Next chapters” can renew.

“He lost his wife, tragically.

He lost, his only child.”

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O. K. July 15, 2015 Lady, came to school today. To meet, with each of us.

I did not want, to talk to her. But did not, make a fuss.

She asked me, lots of questions. “What did I learn each day?

How did I feel, about my school?” I said that, “It’s O.K.” “Was I learning, all my math?” I wondered, what to say.

I could tell, she was frustrated. When I said, “Math’s O.K.” She did send me, back to class. When questions, all were asked.

My answers, short and simple ones. For me, just one more task.

My teacher, asked me later. “How did your meeting go?”

I answered her, “It was O.K.” My voice, quiet and low.

Teachers say, that I am shy. That is not really true.

I do not trust, Big People much. Except, for just a few.

That Lady, did not ask me, things that mattered to me.

For in my small world, things don’t work, the way, Big People see.

So, what matters, most to me? “Food,” is what I would say.

When not at school, not sure I’ll eat. I’m hungry every day.

Then, there is, that I feel safe. That’s how I feel, at school.

Back where I live, it’s not that way. That world, is anger-fueled.

And then, there is the language. At school, it is controlled.

Not so much, in my other world. The cursing, loud and bold.

And then, there is the A. C. School’s temperature is nice.

At home, either freeze or burn up. I don’t sleep well at night.

Maybe, my mother loves me. A burden’s, how I feel.

At school, it does not seem that way. For me, that’s a big deal.

I think my teachers mean well. Encourage me, each day.

“You can become, what you do dream.” At least, that’s what they say.

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Big People, say lots of things. To them, it may sound good.

But all I know, is how I feel. I’d change things, if I could.

So maybe, they don’t like it. When I say, “School’s O.K.” They would prefer, I smile and say, “It’s rainbows and sunrays!”

When I say, that “School’s O.K.” I am very sincere.

My life is hard. Most not O.K. Won’t let you, see my tears.

For I am hard. Like my life. Still, for school, I’m grateful.

It gives some hope. I try to learn. Yet, my life is hateful.

Each day, survive what life brings. I deal, with every blow.

I hope school, won’t give up on me. A kid. What do I know?

Know right now, I struggle so. My future, far away.

For now, I do live step by step. Just make it through the day.

“I do not trust, Big People much.

Except, for just a few.”

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Pictures in the Lobby July 4, 2015 He was not, like his siblings. The teachers, all did say.

Was nothing special, about him. Normal, in every way.

Twelve years, of public schooling. A grad. Yearbook entry.

Participant. Certificate. There was no, grand story.

His brother and his sister. The best, you’d ever meet.

The sister smart and beautiful. Brother, a great athlete.

When these two graduated. The school, made such a fuss.

Their pictures, hung in the lobby. They never gathered dust.

She modeled, on the East Coast. Her face, on magazines.

He turned pro, out on the West Coast. The best, they’d ever seen.

While his siblings, gained great fame, the “normal” one, stayed home.

Learned a craft. Made a good living. Never wanted to roam.

Volunteered, around the town. He was helpful and kind.

Was always there, for those in need. Donated, so much time.

He did marry. One true love. In school, she’d ignored him.

As years went by, she fell for him. Letters, each day, he sent.

Worked with school groups. Helping out, with choir, the arts, and band.

Supported teachers, in the school. Concessions, he would man.

President, Athletic Club. Helped Ag and FFA. He got the teachers, raises too. Field trips, he did help pay.

Took good care, of his mother. She never had to ask.

Dementia, took her down dark road. He then did, all her tasks.

She died, one summer morning. Laid out, in her beauty.

Whole town, attended the funeral. Love, and sense of duty.

His siblings, could not make it. Decade, since they’d been home.

He did not expect them, to come. He handled this, alone.

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Years after. He went out East. He brought his sister back.

Once more, she had finished rehab. Tabloids, revealed the facts.

Later on. He went out West. To bring his brother home.

Gambling debts. Prison stay was done. His name, now barely known.

His siblings, truly grateful. They re-found, their home town.

Gave them more, than a place to stay. Helped turn their lives around.

Then all three, were family. Was really, the first time.

Brother and sister, learned from him. A warm life, they did find.

The day he passed, they found him. Beside, his mother’s grave.

Fresh flowers, that day, he’d brought her. Tulips, beside him lay.

Siblings, teachers, and students. Set up a foundation.

It has raised millions. Grants for schools. Famous, across the nation.

Two photos in the lobby? Of course, they are still there.

But next to them, another hangs. All three, receive great care.

“Was always there, for those in need.

Donated, so much time.”

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Questions July 21, 2015 Had lunch, with a new teacher. Was troubled, I could see.

I asked, “What is bothering you?” Replied, “Can you help me?”

“I’ll try to.” Was my answer. “Speak your mind. Do not fake.”

The rookie looked at me, and said: “This may be a mistake.”

“Been to so many meetings! Confused, is how I feel!

Thought, I was ready for teaching. Not sure, about this deal.”

“Students, aren’t even here yet. Overwhelmed already!

It seems as if, there is too much. I’m not feeling steady.”

“How hard, must I work at this? I really want to know.

There seems so much, expected now. Just how far, must I go?”

My answer, was not gentle. Though softly, it was said.

“Just how good, do you want to be?” And slowly, shook my head.

“The teaching life’s not easy. Your paycheck, will be earned.

There are no short cuts, to success. You still, have much to learn.”

“If you do want, a challenge, then this career’s for you.

But if a job, is all you want. Your teaching days, are through.”

“I could give you a pep talk. But that’s not what you need.

Instead, ask yourself some questions. I’ll start you, with this seed.”

“How good, do you want to be? You might say well, the best.

That’s such, an easy thing to say. Let’s put that, to the test.”

“How good, do you want to be? Well first, please answer this.

Just what, are you willing to do? How much, will you resist?”

“So many people say things. That sound good, to the ear.

But when it’s time, to measure up. Instead, they show big tears.”

“We all crave recognition. But first, must give your all.

So, what are you willing to do? That, makes you rise or fall.”

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No, it was not a pep talk. The truth, I clearly told.

For I could sense, in this rookie…potential. Solid gold.

The first year, was a challenge. Frustration, sometimes showed.

But clear to me, my “questions” led, this teacher, to big goals.

How good, do you want to be? The answer was: The Best.

Just what, are you willing to do? Do more, than all the rest.

It took five years, to get there. But I can safely say.

That doubtful rookie, now a Star, who shines bright, every day.

Awards and recognition. Earned, many over time.

Hard work. High standards. Discipline. Those, took it cross the line.

These questions, must be answered. Each person, must decide.

How good? How much? What will I do? The answer, is inside.

“I could give you a pep talk.

But that’s not what you need.”

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Recruit, Retain, and Refine June 30, 2015 Have a simple formula. Results, have been sublime.

The secret, to teaching success? Recruit. Retain. Refine.

When I became a teacher. So quickly, I did find.

First step, in helping students learn. Recruit first hearts, then minds.

Children, are always learning. Not always, what we teach.

Their young minds, are active playgrounds. Don’t want to hear us preach.

Will start, by have them “doing.” They learn best, when engaged.

Win them over. Activities. Capture hearts, first few days.

Soon, they’re waiting, for my class. They’re wanting, to be taught.

The second step, I call Retain. Each day, minds must be caught.

Requires me, to be diverse. To retain their interest.

Their world each day, has distractions. I must not let them drift.

Each child, a special challenge. Keep each motivated.

Some days, are long. Some days, too short. Push through, unabated.

Recruit. Retain. First two steps. Then comes, the vital task.

To help them stretch. Maximum growth. Refinement, I do ask.

Refinement. Starts with knowledge. The basics, well-defined.

But what can they DO, with knowledge? That’s the key, in “refine.”

Knowing things, does have value. But applying, is key.

If they can’t USE, the things they learn, “The Best,” they’ll never be.

Recruit, retain, and refine. These words, require so much.

To insure, they learn every day, their minds AND hearts, I touch.

I try not, to lecture much. Lead them, to discover.

Do not, dispense information. “Learning’s” not “what’s covered.”

Give guided inspiration. That does describe “my way.”

“Recruit” their hearts. “Retain” their minds. Then, “Refine” skills, each day.

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Red, Blue, and White October 19, 2015 I’m a teacher. Through and through. I’m easy to define.

Blood-red passion. Blue-collar heart. With strong, white-collar mind.

Very tired, when day is done. But don’t think that is bad.

My blue-collar heart, is at peace. I did give all I had.

Some think, that I care too much. More passionate, than smart.

But there’s “method to my passion.” I balance, all three parts.

Hard work. Passion. Thoughtful plans. I do employ, each day.

Keeping balance, is the secret. My true and proven way.

My mind, is filled with knowledge. My learning, never stops.

Stay curious, and do explore. Compete, to stay on top.

My teaching. Filled with logic. I strive, to motivate.

I do more, than just convey facts. Grow thinking skills. Relate.

Stay efficient. Don’t waste time. But short cuts? Just don’t use.

I give each task, sufficient time. Patient. Won’t blow a fuse.

I demonstrate, work ethics. For students, imitate.

Demand a lot, of them and me. For dreams, I open gates.

Some days, vary how I teach. Grading consistent. Fair.

Help students learn, in their own way. They know I’ll push. Yet care.

I innovate. Try new things. The changing world. Adjust.

Keep what works. Discard what doesn’t. That, earns my students’ trust.

Don’t do it, for the money. Awards, are not my goal.

Do it because, it’s who I am. Beliefs. I deeply hold.

Was born, to be a teacher. Watch me. Each day, you’ll find.

Blood-red passion. Blue-collar heart. And strong, white-collar mind.

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Regulations, Rules, and Rubrics August 7, 2015 Regulations. Rules. Rubrics. At times, can overwhelm.

Come at us, from so many sides. Can dominate, our realm.

Public has expectations. Normal, to want the best.

But world has changed. Demands increased. Is stressful. Must confess.

It seems now, regulations, impact all that we do.

These grow and grow and grow non-stop. Each day, there’s something new.

Might be law, or court ruling. Can cause us extra work.

Politicians or media. Citizen, gone berserk.

May seem, so well-intended. Each rule, that is proposed.

Yet still, really can all add up. Should this, be how it goes?

Many rubrics, now applied. To measure, one and all.

If designed to help, not punish. Then, might help all stand tall.

But sometimes, those who mean well. Impose more, than they should.

What seems to them, makes so much sense. Can do more harm, than good.

“Reform.” When just a buzz word, offers no guarantee.

Can’t presume, every change is good. Takes years, to really see.

A big concern in all this: Time-tables dominate.

How quick a change, is brought about, is not what makes it great.

Another concern exists: When school’s a money game.

Education, used for profit. Can also cause some pain.

These rules and regulations, are not the only way.

To do, what’s needed for students. There are some other ways.

Must find a way to balance, these rules, with common sense.

Must not pile-on, relentlessly. Can’t have all things, so tense.

Want business leaders’ input. But does not mean they know, What should take priority, in helping students grow.

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Students, parents, and teachers. All, must participate.

Money, politics, and business. Can’t always dominate.

We cannot simply stay put. Must always, get better.

The path we take? The road we choose? Just how, will we measure?

We all must sit together. When choosing, what to do.

Can make our schools, the very best. Respect, each other views.

We do need society. To help our schools evolve.

The changing world, reveals some keys, to problems, we must solve.

Regulations. Rules. Rubrics. They are not always bad.

But when they are, they must not stand. That would be truly sad.

The path to school improvement? It’s not simple, or straight.

Starts with teachers, who truly care. That opens up, the gate.

Must have support, from public. Schools need, so many things.

To help all students, meet their goals. To fly, with open wings.

Teaching and learning, come first. Good teachers, planting seeds.

Hard work. High standards. Discipline. Will give us, what we need.

“Must find a way to balance, these rules, with common sense.”

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Separation May 29, 2016 Having focus, on your work. Can get you to the top.

But over time. Grind, takes its toll. Your spirit, tends to drop.

Educators, take on much. Identify with kids.

Become entwined, within their lives. Those concerns, hard to rid.

Others, not in the classroom. Who support, those who teach.

They also, can hit their limit. The breaking point, they reach.

There’re many ways, to unwind. Maybe, a vacation.

If you do that, also try, to create some “separation.”

Relief. Mental stress. Tricky. Mind, keeps racing. Won’t slow.

Put “distance,” between you and work. Somewhere else, you should go.

Separate yourself, from work. Do this “physically.”

Your mind will tag along, and find, how better life can be.

Geographical distance. From workplace, and from home.

Will calm your mind. Relieve your stress. Don’t be afraid to roam.

Put yourself, physically. In some new surroundings.

Look outward. A beautiful world. Make you head stop pounding.

It might be, just down the street. A mall or picture show.

A friend’s house. Find a backyard pool. Or where a river flows.

Special place, from your childhood. Or your favorite park.

Somewhere far, from city lights. Where stars, shine through the dark.

A cruise. A road trip. Travel. Don’t stay in just one place.

Experience, how others live. Their different kind of pace.

Cook outside. Use paper plates. Don’t bother with dishes.

Eat out, at different restaurants. Whatever, heart wishes.

Climb a hill. Or walk a trail. See nature. Great outdoors.

Spend weekend, at a nice hotel. Campout. Make muscles sore.

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Find bright lights. Or solitude. Just do what works for you.

Ride a bike. Or get in a boat. Try some things, that are new.

Read a book, under a tree. A hammock, in the shade.

Sit on a porch. Watch sun go down. View sunrise, on clear days.

Don’t have to spend much money. To make this all come true.

Be creative. And talk to friends. They’ll help you think it through.

The secret on a budget. Find places, that are free.

They’re all around you, night and day. It’s true. Just look and see.

Museum. Parks. And concerts. Many, are close to you.

Outdoor movies. And art displays. Historic buildings, too.

Festivals. Celebrations. Explore small towns and shops.

Sit dockside, on a bench at night. Feel the breeze. Make world stop.

All these things, are there for you. If to it, you’ll commit.

Separate from work, physically. On your face, smile soon sits.

“Separate yourself, from work.

Do this “physically.”

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State March 11, 2016 From our town, was a short drive. To the State Tournament.

But the long journey, to get there. Harder, than you might think.

We ran, up and down the court. Four years. A million miles.

Shot countless free throws. Learned defense. Our “old school” coach’s style.

Passed the ball. Layups and threes. We worked for open shots.

Played “zone” and “man” and “full court press.” Each game. Better we got.

Our dream: State title. Drove us. But fell short. Three straight years.

Kept our faith. Big wins…and losses. Great joy. Tough times. And tears.

Got to the State title game. As seniors, our last chance.

So many bruises. Burns and scrapes. Finally, the Big Dance.

We trailed at half. Kept it close. Our parents cheered us on.

With seconds left, I tied the game. Overtime! Game not done.

All exhausted. Some fouled out. But most, still on the floor.

Coach called my number, at the end. But, passed the ball...back door.

Shot went in. My teammate scored. Then, was named MVP. Got the assist. Hit open man. My greatest memory.

Looking back. I am grateful. For us, the work paid off.

Older now, I do realize. We also could have lost.

The other team. Really great. The best, we’d ever played.

But in the end. We did prevail. It just was not their day.

They gave their all. There’s no doubt. They played as hard as us.

I wonder, how they see it now. A great game? Or a bust?

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All I know, is how I feel. About my team and coach.

Had highs and lows, through all those years. These days, try not to boast.

Instead, just appreciate. The opportunity.

Hard work. Some luck. And great coaching. But teamwork…was the key.

“We trailed at half. Kept it close.

Our parents cheered us on.”

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Support June 6, 2015 Might find me in an in office. Perhaps, a cubicle.

Cab of a truck. A kitchen too. My job? Support the schools.

I do not work for trophies. I do not work for plaques.

A simple word of “thanks” will do. Just that, keeps me on track.

Work often, behind the scenes. Helping out the system.

Administration, calls on me. Share technical wisdom.

Spend the day on computers. Fix problems. Cyberland.

Make payroll work. Recruit new staff. I even fix the fans.

Electricity. AC. Each day, emergencies.

Before the sun. And after dark. They often call on me.

I drive the children to schools. And then, back home each day.

Ball games. Field trips. The extra routes. I always find a way.

My goal: to feed all children. At work, before the sun.

Construction and maintenance. Work orders, by the ton.

Mow the grounds. Water grass too. Order supplies as well.

Sweep halls. And clean all the buildings. I even set the bells.

Answer the phones. Take good notes. Balance all finances.

Listen to complaints, from public. And chaperone dances.

Serve as aides, to teachers too. Help those with special needs.

Assist retirees. Advertise. The school board, try to please.

Risk management. Health plans. I process every claim.

Change lights, in gyms and stadiums. Get ready for each game.

Patrol the halls. Intervene. Health, hearing, and vision.

Attendance too. I do address. Transfers. Requisitions.

Purchase orders. Insurance. Transport supplies to all.

A bus breaks down, when out of town? It’s me, who gets the call.

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Type and print and organize. Transcribe notes from meetings.

The emails come to me as well. Vendors’ crafted greetings.

Printing all the district needs. Requests, come all the time.

Search internet, to find best deals. My boss’s speech, refine.

Smile and try to keep my cool. With parents on the phone.

Though some are great. Make no mistake. Some really moan and groan.

Find solutions, so the schools, can focus on their work.

Grants and books and curriculum. And questions, I research.

Plan workshops, to meet new needs. Each day, there is a change.

Short deadlines. Many complex tasks. From screams, I do refrain.

My work, is not often seen. But all, feel its impact.

I don’t need much recognition. But like, “pat on the back.”

Support staff. Like a village. To help raise every child.

Sometimes, my work is overlooked. It’s more than just these files.

I wake up every morning. My mission understood.

I fall asleep each night, knowing, the works I do are good.

I’m tired, when day is over. Fill out my last report.

I know I helped, uplift our schools. My day, spent in support.

“My work, is not often seen.

But all, feel its impact.”

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Teachers are Leaders July 11, 2015 Parents see me. Smile and say: “There is my child’s teacher!”

I’m proud of that. But I am more. I’m also, their leader.

Much of what a teacher does, is scripted from the start.

But I lead children, to do more. And that, sets me apart.

A teacher does build knowledge. Develop student skills.

Leaders, inspire and motivate. Big dreams, to be fulfilled.

Good leaders, do inspire us. To reach beyond the norm.

I do that daily, in my class, where children’s dreams are born.

There’s no ceiling, in my room. And no, there is no floor.

I start each child, where they are at. Inspire them, to do more.

Dream more, learn more, and be more. Those are my goals, for all.

Do teach the content. Is my job. But have a greater call.

Pride myself, on teaching skills. Master of my subject.

I make mistakes. But learn from them. Low standards, I reject.

I’m also a follower. Good leaders, do that too.

Comply and share and help colleagues. Make others, feel renewed.

A leader does hear others. Will listen to their views.

But still, a leader is in charge. Must insure order rules.

Leaders use all resources. And build a sense of team.

I do those things, each day in class. More complex than it seems.

For in the end, I do know. So clearly, I do see.

That I must lead, as well as teach. Students, depend on me.

For one day, they’ll leave my class. And move on with their lives.

Did I inspire them, to do more? Did they learn? Can they fly?

One day, THEY will be leaders. To each, a time will come.

So they must also, learn to lead. Till then, my job’s not done.

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There are times, I’ll let each lead. But guide, with gentle hands.

Believe and give, each child a chance. To show, they really can.

I could do just the basics. My students, still would learn.

Score well on evaluations. High ratings, I’d still earn.

But that is not, who I am. I’m different, at the core.

I am a leader, through and through. Inspire all, to do more.

Dream more, learn more, and be more. I must inspire each child.

A good grade, or high-test score earned? That lasts, for just a while.

It is what happens later. That shows, what I have done.

Dream more. Learn more. Do more. Be more. What will, they all become?

“Dream more. Learn more.

Do more. Be more.”

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Tough August 2, 2018 My freshman, English teacher. A smile upon her face.

Greeted us, at the classroom door. Her left leg, in a brace.

To me, it sure looked painful. Was not, she did explain.

She did walk, a little slower. But never once, complained.

She always, did seem happy. Was tough, more ways than one.

She worked us hard. Demanded much. Before the year was done.

She taught all day. Duty, too. We saw her, everywhere.

She ate, in cafeteria. And even, climbed the stairs.

Took tickets, many events. She sponsored, different clubs.

She never, missed a day of work. We never, had a sub.

I learned more, than I had planned. During, that freshman year.

Did not want, to disappoint her. That was, my only fear.

Impression, she made on us. Still with me, to this day.

Sometimes, I think, how tough she was. The price, that she did pay.

I know, it was not easy. She made it, appear so.

Important lesson, we were taught. Be tougher, than your foe.

Meet all challenges, head on. Stand tall, when times are rough.

No matter what, just persevere. Succeed, if tough enough.

Tough, is more a state of mind. An attitude. A path.

It is not, a combative manner. Or, perpetual wrath.

Toughness, is a positive. Does not mean, one is cold.

Can overcome, circumstances. Reach for, inspiring goals.

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Another thing, she taught us. High standards, we should set.

For ourselves, our friends, and colleagues. Don’t stop, till standards met.

Tough-minded teachers, do this. Aim high, and don’t relent.

For that, is the very first law, of human achievement.

“She never, missed a day of work.

We never, had a sub.”

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The Mask June 17, 2015 Did not feel I was pretty. Did not feel I was smart.

At school, I was invisible. At lunch, I sat apart.

I was most happy, at night. In my bedroom, alone.

I would transform, and be in joy. My mind, so free to roam.

My secret? It was simple. A mask, from Halloween.

My favorite Disney heroine. This was my nightly scene.

With that pretty face, on mine. I became wonderful.

I’d do my homework, with such ease. So bright and beautiful.

My teacher praised my homework. I faded during class.

Did not do well, on tests back then. Without my mask, I lacked.

I was only confident, when I would wear the mask.

Without it, felt I could not do, even the simplest task.

One day, was doodling in class. Was not really working.

Looked up, and there was my teacher. Staring at my drawing.

I was so embarrassed then. Was sure, she would scold me.

But with a smile, knelt by my desk. “What is that? Can I see?”

I whispered, “It’s a picture. A mask, to wear at school.”

Her smile got wider. Then she said: “That really is so cool.”

“When I was young, like you dear. Had a big collection.

Would wear them often, and pretend. Sort of my protection.”

“My brother, had costumes too. Was a super hero.

He’d save me, from villains at night. We’d battle evil foes.”

On that day, began to change. I came to realize.

My life, was not so strange at all. Saw things, through brand new eyes.

Pretending is not so bad. We all, do it at times.

Teacher’s single act of kindness. True self, started to find.

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The mask was very useful. Freed imagination.

But all the great things, I conceived? Were my OWN creations.

One teacher, helped me see. That day, I was off task.

She helped me understand and love, the girl, behind the mask.

Today, make lots of money. World of animation.

I create computer graphics. Hollywood sensation.

Helped that teacher, now retired. Open a new business.

A store with costumes. Masks as well. Didn’t forget her kindness.

“I was only confident, when I would wear the mask.”

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Though a Child’s Eyes September 10, 2015 Great-grandparents? The airplane. Grandparents? First TV. My parents? Was the computer. For me? What will it be?

The one thing, that seems certain. Is that, it’s just not known.

The history you teach to me. Uncharted paths, aren’t show.

The world, changes every day. So what, must I be taught?

To be prepared, for what will be. My future, to be caught.

I hear grownups talk about, “twenty-first century.”

They say, that I must be prepared. For things, they do not see.

It seems, we spend much school time, on things, like bubble tests.

The adults say, tests help us learn. I guess, they know what’s best.

I’m just a child. With much to learn. Don’t mean to criticize.

But it seems strange, some things you do. When seen, though my child eyes.

What do I think, must be done? Just what, is in my heart?

I’m just a child. With much to learn. But this, is how I’d start.

Teach me, how to read of course. Good books. But people too.

Teach me, the math. How numbers work. And how, these things get used.

Teach me, to balance my life. Take pride, and to stand tall.

Teach me, to be responsible. Accountable, for all.

Teach scientific method. Teach logic. How to think.

Allow me, to learn with projects. With presentations, link.

Teach me, to work with others. Learn how to give and take.

Teach me, how to set my own goals. And let me make mistakes.

Teach me, about history. About the good, and bad.

Teach about the past. The present. Things that last. And the fads.

Teach me, how to measure things. Success. Failure. Progress.

Allow me, to walk different paths. And give me time, to rest.

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Teach me, both love and beauty. Let me be creative.

Let me sing and draw, and make things. Become innovative.

Let me dance. Compete in sports. Community, I’ll serve.

Be there for me. But let me fail. I’ll win, when I deserve.

Teach today’s technology. But don’t try to pretend, That they’re the tools, I’ll use through life.

They’re just where I’ll begin.

What are the tools? No one knows. A brand-new internet?

What really will replace that thing? Well? Not invented yet.

The smart phones that you carry. Someday, will be old junk.

Most of the things, you use today, will be antiques, in trunks.

Don’t let all this bother you. The unknown world ahead.

My generation, will adapt. If we are wisely led.

Lead us on, as best you can. And teach us right from wrong.

Inspire us, with the way you work. With art, and also song.

Teach me, with good example. Best lessons that I learn?

Best lessons, are from watching you. In mind and heart, they’re burned.

“Be there for me. But let me fail.

I’ll win, when I deserve.”

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About the author Pat Deaville is the former Director of High School Curriculum and Instruction for the Calcasieu Parish School System. Prior to his retirement, he spent 40 years as a professional educator in the Jefferson Davis and Calcasieu Parish School Systems. He currently serves as a free-lance educational consultant in Louisiana and Texas. He is a member of the Louisiana Music Educators’ Hall of Fame and is Editor of the Louisiana Musician.

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