Deciding to
teach was both the best decision, and the worst decision I have ever made.
Watching young brilliant minds open to new concepts makes my
heart flutter and my eyes shine with pride.
Watching young minds fold under pressure and resist privileges
few are given, makes my heart ache, and my eyes well with tears.
Choosing to teach was the most ambitious, yet most infertile
volition of my entire 23 years of life.
I giggle at their creativity
But I scowl at their stupidity
I cheer for the leaps they make and the successful execution
of their most cherished targets
I denounce their self-destructive attitudes and ignorance
towards the opportunities standing barefaced and indisputable in front of them.
Hives
Headaches
Sleepless nights
Anxiety
Panic attacks
Cold after cold, flu after flu
Throw whatever you want at me
I will not give up on them
I will not quit on them like they quit on themselves
No matter how many “I don’t want to’s”
“I can’t’s”
“I won’ts”
I hear
Try me
I will not let them stop
I will not let them sell themselves oh so entirely short
I won’t take no for an answer
Agreeing to illustrate the art of composition and reading to
the young, the impressionable, the deranged, was a matchless selection
Engaging in dragging them through the monotonous task of
writing one word after the other and deciphering the dullest of dull was a dense
selection
Has my point been made? My assertion understood?
I’ll regret this adventure for as long as I live, but I’ll
delight in it more.
I’ll gloat about my kids’ achievements until my voice
becomes hoarse
I’ll praise their abilities, encourage their curiosity, and
spark their imaginations using whatever methods possible
I’ll use any amount of insanity, and go to any extent of ludicrousness
And I won’t stop until every sweet, yet obnoxious, young
life I encounter, gets a chance to be staggeringly phenomenal.
The decision to teach was the dumbest, premeditated torture I
have ever agreed to and the purest, unrivaled fruition I have ever felt.
