"Why do we have to do this?"

This week, I thought my seniors needed to work a little more with poetry.  I wanted to give them a little exposure to some modern works, I wanted them to think, and I wanted them to write. So, we have been looking at spoken word poetry. As with every art form, there are truly talented poets and amazingly high quality poetry to be found in this genre. There are also some pieces that do not measure up. We forget, however, that there we terrible poets in Shakespeare's day to, but we do not ignore the Renaissance based on that simple fact.

Long story short, my seniors are surprising me once again. I had to smile when more than one student told me she had lost track of time searching for a poem online that could be shared in class, which was the assignment Monday night, and had spent over two hours listening to young poets present their work.  Another student said that she and a friend had listened to poetry all the way to school that morning. I had to thank the girl who told me she did not really like poetry, but that this was pretty neat. She was enjoying the writing assignment I had given them. I was impressed after student after student stood up today in class and recited their original works, about school, being a senior, or their lives, and images and emotions, the metaphors and the alliteration, spilled from their minds.  I was just as happy as time after time, their classmates responded supportively, sometimes with the traditional snap, sometimes with stunned silence, and even once in a while with a muted "Wow." In short, it has been neat.

As part of the study, each student are to write and recite a series of poems. The first was due today. I feel it is only fair that if I am going to ask my kids to put pieces of themselves out their in their works, I should be willing to do the same. I have spent the last hour trying to put words on a page for the second poem so I can have it as an example tomorrow. The poem is to be in the form of a letter to someone, a past or future self, a future significant other, or someone you want to say something to but never have. It could be a letter from one fictional character to another.  I am struggling. Homework sucks. This school is a prison!

Sorry, I lost myself for a moment. I feel better now. I shared my efforts for the first assignment yesterday in class, with the students following suit today, and today was a good day. Below is my piece. It is not Frost, Shakespeare, or Hughes, but I like it.

"For my Seniors"

“Why do we have to do this?”

It echoes, the volume and tone slightly different,

But the sentiment always the same.

It might be grammar,

Essay or reading

Research or revision,

Quadratic equations or governing precepts.

“Why do we have to to do this?”

I ask myself the same thing,

Not because you didn’t get it,

But because you didn’t listen.

“We had this in fourth grade,”

I heard one voice

Not even trying to hide under her breath

As I explain a simple grammar rule.

“And yet you still don’t understand.”

Those words could bounce off the walls,

But they won’t,

Even though we want them to,

We -

The kid in front who got it in the fourth grade,

And the boy in the back who caught on in sixth,

And the girl in the hoodie who quit doodling long enough in seventh to deposit the concept in her memory.

I introduced a new poetry unit with my seniors.

Five weeks left,

So let’s try something new,

Something different,

Something creative.

“Why do we have to do this?”

He mutters as the boy behind him inserts earbuds and listens

To a rapper who attempts to craft images as skillfully

As the ones we will hear in class,

Sometimes dropping verbal bombs that burst  through the eardrum and invade the mind,

Sometimes lobbing lines that die in the ear channel like wax needing to be flushed away.

I want to scream,

“We do this so you can listen,

And think,

And write!”

I want to burst out,

“We do this

Because that kid in back,

The one who hands his writing to the teacher because if he reads it out loud you will poke fun,

Is openly engaged,

Because that one in the front who does her homework without prodding

Might find a connection,

Because that little one over there with a notebook full of scribblings, but a gradebook full of zeros,

Needs to be heard once in a while too.”

I want to say,

“We are doing this for the ones who one day might answer your question of

‘Why do I have to do this?’

With “You will do it because it needs to be done,

I am your boss, and I have assigned it to you.

So shut up and finish your task so the project can move forward.”   

But I don’t scream.

I don’t raise my voice,

Because the one in the back,

The little one with the notebook,

The girl in the hoodie,

Others scattered about the room

Are already listening, and always have been,

But you never will.