Happy Teachers Day!
A poem by Victor RW Mecoamere, to inspire a sober take on the teacher as a societal change tool, on World Teachers Day
To All My Teachers, Today and Always
When we first met I was a piece of wood.
You had seen the likes of me before.
To you, any child, like all others, had the same blood.
So, with ease you made me see the world anew, differently.
Like, you had always said,
Shown, taught and done, before…
You laughed with me when I discovered things.
Like, stolen sugar, if not eaten fast, melts in the pocket.
Like, dead frogs rot, and smell, if kept for far too long, in the pocket.
Like now, I know, you were wrong to beat me for the wrong answers.
Like now, I know, you were wrong to beat me for owing school fees.
Like I know, from your unseeing violence then,
You; were a victim of a vile system, too.
Like now, I know, that to love stray pets;
Like I love you too, is cool.
Also, when we first met I was like a piece of clay.
You had seen my imperfect types before,
We were blind blobs at most, before,
To you, a child came in any shape.
Then, and now, your focus was, and is on nurturing brains.
Here I am, a bit brainier.
Here I am, thinking that I know better.
But, to you, I am all vain…
You will always know the coming pains, and chains.
You have seen, heard, felt and done it all, before.
Just what do we want from you?
When you are a parent, coach and mentor on each day.
When you toil, and yet earn a pittance,
And, yet you nurture a nation’s future, daily.
Sadly, I – we - remember you, only when I see you,
I, from my lofty pedestal… as we all do….
And, you give me – us - a knowing look;
Such, have passed by, before.
Today, in this lifetime, we honour you, once a year.
But, do you achieve greatness once a year?
Yet, you are the light that opened my eyes to the world.
And, how I wish you had taught me numbers as enjoyably as words!
Because of you, I am at peace, sated, a king, when clutching words.
Yes; how I yearn for those impromptu, real history lectures,
When you said we should cram the pale man’s version,
And, then live our own, and remember to teach our kith, kin, and kids.
Just, why do we remember you when those in your rank err?
Aren’t you human, also prone to error, living with the good, and the bad?
My world is mostly rosy today,
Yet, I do not view it with rose-coloured glasses,
Because, as you have inducted me;
This is a world that can cause terror, anguish, and all…
Those who looked at you like you were a clown,
And even sneered at your tests;
The proverbial heat to wood and clay -
Are bumbling through life today,
With looking, yet unseeing eyes…
I honour you,
Daily, no end,
At most, by living your wise words.
Because you, who wear no uniforms, are –
like my parents and all others daily-sloggers – workers too!
Because you, who did not really bear me,
But, bore, and turned my greenness.
And, with heaps of tolerance, and love, you shaped me.
And, with compassion and all else virtuous, you moulded me.
Here I am, looking on, as we honour you, today
As if you are a one-day hero…
In my book-heart,
As should be in all other book-hearts,
You – all my teachers today and always - are an everyday hero.