coming home to one's self
I still dream of being a teacher at CFS,
with obfuscatory procedures coming between me
and my work with students,
at the heart of what I did best as a teacher
was my relationship with the student,
the specifics of subject and project not important,
the specifics of feelings and attitude vitally important,
at my "retirement shindig,"
student after student related their story with me,
they described how I saw them,
bonded with them,
helped them believe in themselves,
helped them reorient their psyche,
so that mistakes they had made
were not overwhelming disaster
but rather a misstep, easily corrected,
the way forward not beyond them,
just a simple reorienting of attitude,
so that each could embrace themselves,
and realize adolescence was a handleable challenge,
not a verdict that negated their self-worth,
I don't dream of these interactions,
so natural to me, and to them,
I dream of fear, a fear that I cannot find my way
to come home where I know where I am,
and all is right,
that fear of being lost and alone permeates my soul,
and time after time motivated me to connect
with student after student,
and help each find their way home to themselves.
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