My students ask me all the time if I want to be famous. I don’t. I wouldn’t mind the fortune part, don’t get me wrong, but I like quiet, I like solitude occasionally, and I much prefer my own life.
This is my last school opening as a classroom teacher. After 35 years, I plan to become a school librarian. So, in this my last year, I’m going to work really hard and try to do things the way I know in my heart they should be done. So maybe I do want to be famous, but only to my 7th grade students…
I want to be famous
to misunderstood seventh graders
who don’t believe they can
…when I know differently.
I want to be famous
to the reluctant readers
who don’t yet know
books will make your life better.
I want to be famous
to battle scarred ADHD boys
who don’t realize I raised one of my own,
so I really don’t mind if they stand up to work.
I want to be famous
to the shy girls who hold back
so unsure of themselves they melt into the walls.
“I see you.” I want to say. And mean it.
I want to be famous
to the blood stained writers
who’ve only seen red slashes
across their beautiful words.
“Choose you color.” I’ll tell them.
“We’ll work together until the words match your heart.”