"A Letter to My Seniors"

If you have read "Ramblings" lately, then you know that my seniors are exploring the wonderful world of spoken word poetry. It has been a worthwhile path. There have been some amazing pieces of writing produced by these young people. Some have been poignant, others shocking, and others extremely funny.

I always try to write an example for the class when I give an assignment in this area of study. So many of the students are hesitant because this is something new, and others just lack the confidence that their work deserves. So, I tell them that if they are going to put themselves out there for us all to see, or hear, or read, then the least I can do is the same. One of the recent assignments was to write a poem in the form of a letter. We heard George Watsky's "Letter to my 16 year old Self", heard a piece called "Dear Future Wife" by Trae Elijah, and "Breakup Letter from Tinkerbell" by Rozlind Silva. Then, I assigned the same type of poem to my classes. The results were varied and interesting. One student wrote a letter to his 35 year old self. Others wrote to themselves as freshmen. Some wrote to the freshmen who will be coming up.  For my example, I wrote a letter to my seniors. This group of seniors is special.  However, after rereading what I had written, I realized that while I definitely was writing to so many kids that have graced my classroom this year, this piece could be to any of the special kids I have taught over the years.

Today was a frustrating day in many ways. The Kansas legislature saw to that. However, we have the pleasure of standing among some many amazing young people day. That is what most teachers will tell you keeps their heads up and drives them to do a little more because the kids deserve it. Those teachers keep after it, even if they are "getting tired".  But I digress.

So, here is my latest Rambling. It may not be great, but I am glad I wrote it and presented it to my classes.

“A Letter to My Seniors”

Jason Kohls

I just want to take the time, while I still can, to say one more thing to you

Before you walk out those doors and toss the cap and tassel.

Now, before you groan too loudly,

Remember that with one click, all evidence that you finished that senior project,

Will be gone. Poof. Just like that.

So zip it.

This is what I wanted to tell you, while I still can:

YOU DON’T KNOW.

You don’t know that this place,

Which some of you call a prison,

Has offered the freedom that only security can,

That for some,

This is the only place they feel warm, and safe, and unafraid.

Not everyone, but some,

But you don’t know.

You don’t know

That turning 18 does not really make you an adult

That some were forced to be grown up long ago,

And that others will take, just a little longer.

And some, much, much longer.

You don’t know

How much you will crave Taco Crunch

When you are reheating leftover ramen noodles because that is all that is in the fridge

After your roommates ate the last hotdogs and its 7 days until payday.

You don’t know

That for one kid here,

That already happens every month, except mom lets him have the last hotdog

While she goes without,

Again.

You don’t know

That just when I want you to be gone from here,

Just like you dream of being and do not hesitate to express,

One of you will amaze me with a thought, an act, or words on a page.

You don’t know

That the impact you made here

Where you say you hate coming every day

Is deep and will be seen long after you are gone,

That someone little with wide eyes wants to be just like you

Even though you will be be gone,

That the freshman you said “Hey” to on the stairs

Or the boy you helped with his books,

Or the kid who sees you and says,

“He’s like me, and if he can make it, then so can I”

You don’t know that each one of them

Feels a little better today than yesterday

Because of you.

You don’t know

How many times your mom, your dad, your aunt, or your grandpa

Has thought “I’m proud” and smiled

Because you are you.

You don’t know

What the word “commencement” actually means,

That is is not an end, but a new beginning,

You don’t know

That what you are now is no where near what you will become

And that where you will go could surprise nearly everyone

Including you.

You don’t know

How many doctors, builders, teachers, mechanics, mothers, lawyers, nurses, musicians, artists, and leaders

Sit among you right now,

You don’t know

That for every heartbreak and struggle you have felt these past years,

You will feel even more as you grow,

And they will each be worth it,

As you become who you are meant to be.

You don’t know

That despite the headaches

The frustration,

The struggles,

And the anger,

I am glad you have been here,

For a moment or two,

Before you go.