Now they’ll be heard

Two boys jumping in river

On the winding road
of life
My pride flails
Shoots up and down and around
See-saws
Now I feel good
Now I wonder
Was I good enough today?

Did I follow my conscience?
Indulge my vision?
Is my job to conform? or to bring a unique thing about?

Vision – the work of art
The art of work
I want to benefit others

Can we be loyal to the children and please the adults?

Two boys come into my room,
Join me at the hexagon of desks
I say, “I’m going to tell you a story.”
Their eyes are wide on me
“Two boys walk to a creek,”
“What did they bring with them?”
“Lunch”
“Bandaids”
Now I have them. They get to decide
“What do they do there?”
“Swim?”
“Clouds come over,” I say
“It gets dark” one boy says
“Too cold to swim. Do they catch a fish in their bare hands?”
“Yes!”
“It wiggles and wiggles”

“Let’s draw it”

Two boys, “struggling learners,”
Engaged
Today I did well, I think
I savor the memory of bright eyes on me
Afire with
Knowing
Now they’ll be heard
Now they’ll imagine
Now they’ll feel alive


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