He came with unbound curly hair
and the saddest eyes with no bottom in sight.
He had no confidence.
He wondered if he should have waited to start school
until he knew more English.
He wanted to experience life,
but life had already pitched him around a few times.
He had a hard time concentrating.
"Ms, do I have to do it now? Couldn't I do it at home?"
He did not come the next day.
He came the day after,
but the work was not done.
"Ms, I just don't know how to organize my life."
There it was again: this deep sadness accompanied with a bright smile.
Next day, he didn't come again.
Talent show announcement was broadcast.
He came the next day with hair in a tight ponytail
and with joy filling at least part of each eye.
He had hope in his voice.
He wrote his journal,
and made me swallow my tears.
He made me remember
how eyes tell us stories.
He came with a suit and tie carrying his guitar.
There was a bounce in his step.
His eyes were smiling.
He came with hope.
He played with skill and passion
He awed us all!
He received a standing applause.
He still came with questions:
"Ms, do you think I really played well?"
But he left, with smile on his face, and a promise
to come on Monday.
©JaanaTerhune
And that is why we cannot lose fine arts in education. I love the story your poem told. Those sad eyes do haunt you.
ReplyDeleteWe need arts! You are so right Elsie!
DeleteThis is a wonderful story, inside a wonderful poem! I wish EVERY student could find something like that to hook them in school. I love that he was able to experience success, and I love the way your poem shows how much you care for every one of your students.
ReplyDeleteThanks Jennifer! It is so exciting when a student finds something that is meaningful to them.
DeleteWhat a lovely story...he knew that he could count on his teacher.
ReplyDeleteThanks Tara! That is one reason why I teach!
DeleteWhat a beautiful story and poem. I love how he not only found success for himself but was able to share it with the whole school community.
ReplyDelete