Think of the Students

Location

An educator, a spectator, a listener, more like a spectator who is the mediator behind the desk everyday and you think to yourself how do they get through the day.

So many faces of many races who are they to judge even though their co-worker in the teachers’ lounge gives them a nudge.

What is it that really makes them a teacher but to some they think preacher of the lectures that can be rather monotonous or just simply nutritious.

Some can be captivated from the very lessons they learn as their mind starts to devour the knowledge given as the others start to care less about that information.

Their brain cells could be throwing away valuable things to remember for the future better yet their career unless they just wanted to be kicked in the rear.

That man teaching the very class used to be an army veteran as that lady who teaches English across the hall used to clean at the mall, a gym teacher that had a life of being a coach for a renowned team at some point and then instantly threw it away after a year’s play.

 We want to know what makes you tick to be so captivated in educating others than just our father and mothers. I’ve always wondered that about teachers why do you act as if being is gruesome to let us not sit next to a friend in the classroom.

Some of you like to pick on us so angrily or in the slightest bit but you don’t how much that student in the very back has gotten hit. Let us sit next to our friends instead of sitting by a lousy seating chart that keeps us apart, there are reasons why we’d sit next to our friends you don’t know what they’ve been through and yet that’s all you can do.

 Rumors are going around that one of my friends had finally came out and administrators can only be so stout, when in reality you’ll just judge my friend for liking the same sex yet you think it’s out of the context.

I thought the student handbook said the school district does not judge based upon one’s race, religion, sex, and orientation yet yourself cannot follow that piece of documentation.

 You seem not to care about that girl who has been crying at her desk and all you can say to her is to stop being depressed, no that’s not how you handle the fact that someone is crying if you’re not even trying because you have no idea if someone was dying.

 She’s had sleepless nights, thoughts of the loved one who had just died, and all you can do is make her fail and let her prevail.

A friend of mine can’t enter your classroom today because she found out she was pregnant so she thought that your class was not well spent, what can she do now if you just give her a fellow adieu.

It leads her to a life that may not be in your classroom anymore, how can you say that she was a whore.

She has a story to tell you but she thinks telling anyone a teacher rather is just something for you to give a good store in the teachers’ lounge with other teachers to gather.

That’s why she doesn’t want to tell anyone except her friends because they’re the ones who actually defends, if she told any teacher she’d think the first thing is they’ll send her to some damn preacher.

A preacher as silly as that may sound but it’s profound and that the fact her parents disapprove of youth doing such provocative things that they should wait till marriage so they don’t await the arrival of a newborn carriage.

What can she do now go to her friend’s house as soon as she felt that movement in stomach that it was a sudden pow, it couldn’t possibly be her water had already broken but where was it, her bus token with words that were less spoken.

She had rushed to her friend’s house as fast as she could until she finally got there in the dead of the night, the friend’s parents had understood.

The smell of burning rubber was asunder as they were rushing her to the nearest hospital as she could finally have it all, a coterie of nurses that had put her onto a gurney as fast they could zoom to get her to that very delivery room.

All she could think about was if her parents would actually care enough to come to the hospital and see how vulnerable she was at this very state even though despite the fact they’d shun of all the things that led to what she had done, it’s better to be safe than sorry to tell them or else they’d find out sooner or later and wonder who it was that made her the perpetrator.

One of the nurses had came into her room after she had given birth as he had asked her if she wanted to see her visitors she’d gotten all of sudden how, was it her parents out there right now.

Maybe it was them even though they’ll be disappointed they’ll accept her somehow but they had told her forbearing  news that led her mind to anew, the state of mindset right at this very moment as her parents told her that piece of information that she couldn’t believe her ears this was one of her fears.

They left the hospital soon after that very spat.

 A child in her arms but the authoritative figures left her out for harms.

How will she survive with her parents not accepting the fact she had a newborn so soon with no man to provide because she couldn’t be abide.

Let me mind you that we may not express our feelings but the hell we’ve all been through at some point in our lives one word cannot even explain how much we can or cannot focus in class at times, yet you have the gaul to lash on someone sleeping during your lesson and you tell them to give a confession.

No they won’t confess to express how they feel, they don’t want to tell you that their aunt died so that’s how you appeal and ask them, “What’s your freaking deal?”

But if you don’t remember that guy that sits on the far left of the room, yeah he lives in a run down apartment across the road because he has a single mom that makes ends meet but also you can say to him is, “Why do you have bare feet?”

It should be clear to now that all you can say is wow, this isn’t just school it’s a rollercoaster ride of emotions all in one period but the perspective of the spectators that come to you everyday just for their elective. 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741