Here is an original poem about teaching from my book Some Poems About Life.
Who Knew? A Teacher’s Lament
She appeared upon the stage as if by magic,
playing her part with joy and self-assurance,
her singing voice clear as a bell.
The next day she entered the classroom
and dutifully took her seat within the matrix,
third row, fourth from the left, near the door,
and promptly disappeared into anonymity,
just another student in a class of 25 in a day with six classes.
I didn’t know.
How could I know?
In History class with the desks so neatly arranged
and the lesson plan the same for all
and posters on the walls with all the correct motivational words,
how do I know what talents are before me?
And more importantly, how can they be revealed?