Slightly crazy writer and passionate educator for those who struggle
I find treasures buried deep
In old boxes – once neat
Laughter, joy and lots of tears
As the end stage of life nears
Why do we collect memories
On objects that last centuries
Someone one day must dispose
Of belongings – of a life that never froze
I had a student the other day
One look and I knew his pain
It was hidden in what he did not say
He did not greet me normally
Yet laugh loud with his friends
A loud obnoxious tra-de-lee
He entered class with excess vigor
Swore a lot
But showed no academic rigor
As a class clown he was quite funny
However I knew his clowning hid
That his life was far from sunny
Days come
Days go
Days stay the same
Work
Study
Repeat
Work
Study
Repeat
Perhaps I should have considered
The implications of my latest grand plan
Sure I can study each evening
2 hours no probs peeps.
ummm……
Turns out I can do
Just what I said
And still have time for some crafting
But my brain is so fried
By lights out each night
That I miss my nightly day dreaming.
Day dreaming works great
When the mind has time to wander
Not so when there is no time to go.
Oh well, I will simply
Keep plugging away
And the ideas will return
One winter’s day
When the study is done
And the Masters hangs proudly
Upon a wall in a future time.
My brain flits there
My brain flits here
My brain travels to another thought
I’ll start one thing
And before I know it
I’ve moved on to do another.
I cannot seem to focus
The world is much to bright
A movie to watch
A book to read
A poem I must write
And all the while I struggle
To focus and complete one task
I so often wonder if it’s just scatty brain I have
Or perhaps something more serious
Something diagnosable
But in order to get diagnosed
I’d have to concentrate
So I guess that I’ll just soldier on
And wonder way too much
About my scatty flitty brain
Whose focus jumps too often
And try again to focus it
On a task
Worked through to completion.
A hero inspires visions of grand and really strong men
Of Wonder Woman and Super Girl
Of capes, hammers and of big green men.
Alas these are only fiction
For I really wouldn’t mind
A big green man or a Thor and Hammer
Walking me into mine.
Heros come in different forms
Than those portrayed above
A hero may be a small boy, staying home from school to defend his Mum.
A hero may be a child who turns up at school day after day, struggling to learn to read, persistently trying each and every day.
A hero may be a co-worker, who keeps on plodding on, putting aside personal hardship to help a small someone.
A hero may be a person who just keeps going on – one foot in front of the other, until the day is done.
A hero may be a soldier who runs into a fight, A hero may be a police officer struggling to keep those drugged in line.
A hero may be a paramedic, a nurse, a doctor, a firefighter – they all put one foot in front of the other and get their jobs done right.
But for me the most amazing heros are those that do not complain, their quiet calm acceptance of everything life throws their way.
These people do not give up –
they just keep on going on
keep on walking forward.
These heros are – for me – the true ones.
The door to education
is not that hard to find.
Thousands of people daily
Stand waiting there to guide.
So why is it that some ignore it,
And some struggle to acquire
Then there are the ones
That formal education is against.
The keepers of these learnings
Are not exactly what you think.
I teach maths and science
Yet do not know how to unblock a sink.
So thank you to those keepers
In all our many forms
That help the world to study
And generate the links
that mean acquiring knowledge
Is a societal norm.
I do not know what you hide
You only show so much
I can tell you are troubled
I can tell you reasons why
Did your mother hit you this morning?
Did you actually have food at home?
Did your father take your medicine – that helps you concentrate?
Your brother’s now your sister
Your mother – she moved out
Your father – you never knew him
You live with an Aunt and Grandma
At least there is a roof;
Your mother refuses to see you
She cancels every trip;
You hide out in the skate park
It’s safer than your house.
You never learnt to read
You feared those frightful sounds
Your brain was in survival
No learning to be found.
Every noise in that classroom
A potential threat
Every smile can hide a hand
That’s coming up to hit.
You spent the day petrified
That you would find no one at home.
You spent the week horrified
Only moldy hunks unrecognizable in the fridge.
You spent the month wondering
If the police would raid your house.
What is the point of learning
When you are too scared to live
My day is long, yet boring,
Focus – I cannot
I’d rather be at home reading,
Work – anything but!
I have a long to do list
Yet nothing is inspired
I tick long box after long box
Dying slowly inside.
There are days I cannot handle
The stories just repeat
Students with disabilities
So damned hard to teach.
I am not talking adds and multiplies
Or the ins and outs of poetry
I’m talking about how students know
That they deserve more.
These students with ASD
Do not understand the simple things
Of what is right and what is wrong
And what is simply not to be done.
My heart has broken too many times
I do not know when is the line
To stop, because I cannot.
I try my best each and every day
To make a difference in any way
Yet the same bad stories
Play and play
And my heart breaks again.
My masters is complete
I’ve wanted it for years
It started as an MBA
When I was just around ten.
I made it through my schooling
My MBA far ahead
I did a Bachelor of Science
And I thought my dream was dead
I went back a couple of decades later
And got a Graduate Diploma.
The dream once more remembered.
Roll forward years and indecisions
An MBA no longer fit
But smiles all round
I had a plan with a Masters in it.
And not but two years later
I have finally done it.