When I was just in first grade, the teacher that I had
Had teaching methods very strict and easily got mad
Most questions that she asked me I had no answer for
I’d tell her that I did not know, but she’d just ask me more
She once walked up to my desk, asked for a certain book
I didn’t think I had it,but told her I would look
At that she reached into my desk, grabbing papers, books and more
And with a sweeping motion, knocked them all to the floor
All the kids were laughing, I thought I would die
Her action put real fear in me and I began to cry
Another time she told me that I should do the best I can
But the most that I could hope to be was a garbage man
Then she found I was left handed and she made a new demand
My desk was turned to face the rear til I wrote with my right hand
Each day I lived in terror, I tried not to go to school
Every day was torture. I was made to feel the fool
But ultimately she was found out and her methods were reversed
Somehow I got to second grade, I had survived the worst
It’s funny after all these years, I still remember her
Those moments are still crystal clear, all the other years a blur
What did all this teach me as these thoughts I recollect
That adversity has its value, it teaches you respect
So thanks to you Miss Thomas for showing me the way
If you hadn’t been the way you were, who would I be today
Powerful lesson to learn from you. The way you have presented it is also admirable. Not easy to tell a story in verse.
Thank you. Welcome back
WOW, fabulous poem–terrible experience. I had a couple of those teachers, one (5th grade) of whom I grudgingly thank for learning to write–daily punishment for the entire class when only one student offended her sensibilities, was a 500-word theme. It was years before I realized that she probably never read them. That she was pregnant was no excuse–she should have take the whole dang year off.
If you look through the horse manure, you sometimes find a pony:)
Yes sir, it’s true–but wear a mask, lest you be deterred. Time helps too–I didn’t think I’d survive grade school; and then jr high was unspeakably worse….