Include Us

Hey... Teach.

Yo... Teach.

I respect you,

I respect your decision

To stand up where no one else will

To pace the room with scowl or smile

To try to change the world one kid at a time.

It doesn't change fast.

I respect knowing that you,

you give up your peace for me,

Your peace of mind,

Your time. Your energy. Your sleep. Your family.

You give up your life.

To make a living.

I respect that you,

you come into work,

expected to leave your world behind,

you get paid like shit,

paid less than the men who take our garbage away,

those men with dirty hands, soiled faces, clothes that might need to be burnt at the end of the day.

You come to work,

sometimes happy, sometimes sad,

but you are there, always in there,

waiting for eager brains to walk in the door,

waiting for brains that the system has given up on.

Waiting for the Zombies our society creates within our youths.

Waiting amidst all the problems,

with funding, bullying, hatred, the talking, the gossip.

You are there.

You do your job.

You get neglected for it.

Programs are slashed, weeded out, carefully ripped apart.

You can't afford much....

We don't treat you as good as we should,

society doesn't care as much as it should,

especially since the things that you hold,

hold in your capable, aching, shaky hands,

sometimes arthritic, sometimes youthful hands,

those things you hold....

they are precious. young. malleable. capable.

taken for granted.

forgotten.

misused and abused.

in a world where they are not seen as kids, as people,

but Numbers, Words on a page,

Test scores.

They are things that we will lose

and never have again.

You hold minds, souls,

eyes filled with wonder,

hearts so lost and confused and young and misguided and full of mistakes

and you wonder why you do what you do.

You show up and reach out,

begging for someone to come and take your hand,

hoping that some student, some kid might be affected in a good way,

by you.

But the words do not reach them,

they fall on the floor like a million little needles,

never to be picked up,

only to be tread on.

Those needles jab you painfully.

Don't lose hope, don't get mad at us.

We're kids, we like to goof,

we play, we laugh.

We can get serious.

We will fall, forget, fail, neglect our duties.

We will always have Moments.

Moments of regrets,

Moments of sadness,

Moments when things just don't work.

Sometimes our homework won't get done,

sometimes our voices are too loud,

sometimes our body language screams,

screams DON'T EVEN LOOK AT ME.

But that's why you are a teacher,

why you stand there, telling us things...

seemingly futile,

so you just talk at us, instead of to us.

Engage us, teach,

engage the minds and hearts

that are right in front of you.

Don't forget Us,

like too many others do.

Don't look at us like we are dumb,

like we can't do it.

we are only teens, only kids, only people.

We may act up, we may give in,

We may be scared.

But with your help,

our minds can soar. Fly.

Rise on a warm Breeze, with wings wide open.

taking turning twists and falls on winds so high we can see our houses from here.

But we can't.

Not if you don't remember us,

remember why you are here.

I respect you.

I respect what you can do.

So respect me, respect Us,

Include Us in the conversation.

Don't demand, simply ask nicely,

Maybe... maybe we can finally respond.