wait lists should weigh this
all on a sixth-grader’s back
the weight of waiting
but beauty beckons
historic remodel wows
door to her future
education
Key to Success
organization
was my lesson for day one
follows me for life
First Day of School
seven weeks of prep
goal: teach like a champion
with few words, won them
nervous girls ready
for school year beginning buzz
i cry inwardly
this is never easy
each new year a renaissance
soon i’ll shed feathers
A Ride in the Park
i’ll dream in cycles
flowered spinning summer ride
and forget my stress
The Kids Who Teach Me
to see through their eyes
i must look through oppression
the window is dark
Teacher-Mother Pie
back to old routines
information overload
do as i say, not…
day’s success stories
vary, depending on view
mine: crosses they’ll bear
now for new nightmares
first-day jitters springing up
fan fires sun’s laugh
bring on my Friday:
arrange, plan, copy, paste, bake:
teacher-mother pie
always a puzzle
time for nothing but my kids
theirs and mine: ours
Shiny
a blank, shiny slate
overwhelms the burning morn
let the work begin
alphabetize books
search hall and soul for lost desk
afternoon surprise
shiny, bright bookshelves
walls lined with latest titles
how i hope they’ll read
with cheese stick melted
i give in to a day’s work
till shiny kids come
Prepubescent Exploration
innocent zoo trip
obscene scene not to be seen
look, he has two trunks!
saved by water show
he forgets his bold catwalk
trainer blames teen angst
stories of summer
popcorn, snow cones, puberty?
the birds and the bees
better lesson now:
friends by day’s end, sharing slurps
two trunks forgotten
The End
sunny day at end
after a stormy summer
last pool before school
Big Brother Wins
It’s time to say goodbye. I tried editing. Removing posts. I started with the word drink as my post searcher.
Twenty-eight posts. (I might mention that I have 1,058 posts, the rest of which do not contain this word, but would it matter?)
During my search, I read about the beauty of my girls on a glorious Sunday. Of parties I’d had a great time at. Of weekend joy and love. Of coworkers having a moment of happiness after work.
And, gasp, about that awful thing that almost everyone I know does after work, but I’m not allowed to do since I’m a teacher.
This is one of the most frightening novels I’ve ever read. It bothered me so much when I read it, but even more now. I feel I share this room with Winston:
For some reason the telescreen in the living-room was in an unusual position. Instead of being placed, as was normal, in the end wall, where it could command the whole room, it was in the longer wall, opposite the window. To one side of it there was a shallow alcove in which Winston was now sitting, and which, when the flats were built, had probably been intended to hold bookshelves. By sitting in the alcove, and keeping well back, Winston was able to remain outside the range of the telescreen, so far as sight went. He could be heard, of course, but so long as he stayed in his present position he could not be seen. It was partly the unusual geography of the room that had suggested to him the thing that he was now about to do. (1.1.12)
I sit here now in my living room in Cartagena, Spain. I have spent the greater part of two weeks sharpening my résumé, rewriting my cover letter, and completing online applications so that I can bring my family home.
They are counting on me. Trusting me. Just as they did a year ago when I told them we were coming here.
I cannot let this writing, soul-fed, heartbreaking, ever-too-honest writing, keep me from providing for my family.
And so, just as Winston faced his biggest fear of rats, took his sip of ever-bitter gin and ended the novel with, “I love Big Brother,” I am going to have to concede.
Big Brother wins. I am taking down my blog. And with it, so many pieces of my heart that it will never beat quite the same again.
Step Write Up 