Posted Monday, August 30th, 2004
First Day. . .
Elaine Drennon Little
Excited. Couldnít sleep, Afraid. But excited, too.
Who grew? Who stayed the same? Who lost weight? Who gained?
Whoís not coming back? Why?
Who cut their hair? Who let it grow?
Who became a woman? A man?
Who hasnít decided? Who has?
First day, thereís only one first day.
New clothes for all, it seems.
Haircuts, sleek flowing tresses secured in Ivy league bands.
Cute, flashy purses and shrunken, cast-off teeshirts.
Perfect fit jeans by Gap, Old Navy, Hilfigger, Abercrombie & Fitch.
Shiny notebooks with no graffiti.
Yellow pencils, long and thin, with no teeth marks Ė yet.
Student handbook, filled with rules to be broken
And activities you may not choose to be part of.
But you could. If you wanted.
First day. Maybe things will go right this time.
Iíll get there on time. Iíll be prepared before I get there.
Iíll make the most of every day. Iíll do something special for someone else,
I will learn something new everyday. I may even stretch things and DO something new everyday.
I will tell SOMEONE they are important to me, every day, not repeating the same person in a given week.
I want to do it all, but. . .
But, Iím afraid. And what if they donít believe me?
What if they donít like me? What if they make fun of my clothes,
Or my hair, or the music I listen to?
What if, no matter what I do, the time just isnít right for me?
What if I have the wrong clothes, and hair, and notebooks, and pencils,
I want to stay home.
I want to sleep in, just once more.
But I canít.
I am the teacher.
Comments [post a comment]
Posted by debbie ice on Tuesday, August 31st, 2004 at 7:00 AM
This is adorable and very well timed! I enjoyed.
Posted by Alla Michelle Watson on Tuesday, October 26th, 2004 at 4:32 PM
Elaine, this is great, so clever. I love the last line!