A Poem for my Students

I wrote this poem for my students and shared it with them today. We used it to talk about layout features and literary devices, whilst I got to share something that's been on my heart with them. Maybe it resonates with you, too.

I Did Something Silly

I did something silly the other day. 

I decided to Google how to manage your workload as a teacher 

And in particular, how to keep up with The Pile of Marking. 

Because you see, if you add them all up, give or take, 

I see fifty students a week. 

And if each of these fifty were to turn in their homework, 

That’s fifty Pieces of Paper 

That I’ll take with a smile and slip into my folder 

Of Things to Mark when. 

When is that alternative universe where there’s time To Do Things, 

Like mark in coded colour, cook everything from scratch 

And make sure my nail polish is never cracked. 

But that’s not the Life of a Teacher 

As experienced today. 

Google was a scary place; the day I looked at it. 

There were worried mums and disgruntled students and all the people in between 

Shouting with exclamation marks and capital letters 

Declaring that if teachers have the time to set homework 

Somehow that means they have time 

To mark it, too. 

 A part of me understands. 

It really does. 

It makes me think back to a time 

When my parents were at school 

And even during my younger years 

When teachers were there 

To, simply, Teach. 

Teach in its fullest verb-form, of course. 

Teach when it encompasses the act of 

Mostly always smiling 

Creating 

Listening 

Caring 

Being present 

Being consistent 

Staying professional 

Inspiring 

Motivating 

Disciplining 

Mentoring 

Cheerleading 

Teach. 

Before it became: 

Box-checking 

Form-filling 

First-aid-training 

Outcome-setting 

Syllabus-following 

Fire-officering 

Meeting-attending 

Giver-upper-of-most-free-timing 

Now it takes so much effort 

To just stay afloat. 

People who feel called to be teachers 

But drowning under the weight of marking 

Of paperwork, 

Of things we’re told are ‘to just make life easier’; 

Start to find their energy drained 

And our zeal gradually diluted 

Until we wonder if it’s really worth it. 

So, when a student asks us innocently 

“Did you mark my homework?” 

We hear not only their voice 

But the voices of many 

And see the pleading look in their eyes 

And feel the guilt 

Years and decades of guilt 

Piling up just like the homework 

Because we know that behind The Question 

Lies the deeper one: 

Doesn’t my learning matter? 

Don’t I matter? 

Dear student, 

You matter so much. 

Your learning matters. 

It matters to me, to us, 

But perhaps not to 

The System. 

So, I preserve my energy for you 

To Teach you well, 

Teach in its fullest verb-form; 

And sometimes that means 

Leaving The Pile to pile-up some more.