Our Host
Glenda retired from full-time teaching in 2019 after a 38 year career and is now substitute teaching in her district. In addition to being a dog and cat mom, Glenda loves to travel and is a doting grandmother to Ezra, a budding reader of board books.Glenda serves on the NCTE Children’s Poetry Awards Committee and is participating for the second year in the Stafford Poetry Challenge to write a poem a day for a year. Glenda blogs at Swirl & Swing: www.glendafunk.wordpress.com
Inspiration
Over a million federal employees (approximately a third of the workforce) responded to Elon Musk’s email directing them to respond to the question “What did you do last week at work?” with five things they accomplished. At a press briefing Karoline Leavitt said this:
All federal workers should be working at the same pace as President Trump is working and moving. This is to ensure that federal workers are not ripping off American taxpayers, that they are showing up to the office and that they are doing their jobs. And it’s a very simple task to complete.
Not all who responded did so with gravitas. The Alt National Park Service posted the following on social media:
The comment section includes some dandy responses, such as this one:
-didn’t do ketamine
-didn’t ignore my children’s mother
-didn’t golf
-didn’t wield a chainsaw
Another responded:
-Calculate bills to see if I can afford groceries
-Uninstall bootlicker apps
-Narrow down best shade of red lipstick
-Tidy basement
-Still call the Gulf the Gulf of Mexico
One responder channeled their inner Rick Astley:
-did not give you up
-did not let you down
-did not run around and desert you
-did not make you cry
-did not say goodbye
Bonus accomplishment in voluntary overtime:
-did not tell a lie and hurt you
I’m sure you get the gist of these responses. Read more clever responses to Musk here.
As I searched for mentor poems, I discovered “What Did You Do in School Today” by Tom Paxton. The poem, also a song, begins
What did you learn in school today
Dear little boy of mine?
What did you learn in school today
Dear little boy of mine?
I learned that Washington never told a lie,
I learned that soldiers seldom die,
I learned that everybody’s free,
That’s what the teacher said to me,
And that’s what I learned in school today,
That’s what I learned in school.
The song/poem is an ironic commentary on what we teach when we don’t teach history well. Read the rest to see and listen to the song here.
For more inspiration, read William Stafford’s poem “Things I Learned Last Week.” I love the line
Yeats, Pound, and Eliot saw art as
growing from other art. They studied that.
Isn’t that the essence of what we do here in this space together?
My poem is a general response to how I want to live my life right now and how I plan to respond to the threat of authoritarianism each week. It is inspired by Timothy Snyder’s book On Tyranny.
I did not comply in advance
I did not fall for the lie
nor think the illusion a mirage.
I did not comply in advance.
I do not think my small act too little
nor choose convenience over principle.
I will not comply in advance.
I will not call him a king
nor raise my hands in defeat.
I’ll never comply in advance.
I cannot call enemies allies
nor say he has a mandate.
I refuse to comply in advance.
I’ll find joy in laughing at him and
peace in not bending my knee to the regime.
Glenda Funk
2-28-25
Your Turn
Today, let’s get creative and channel our ideas about how we would respond to an email from Musk, from a boss, from a spouse, from a child, from the universe, or from democracy as she calls us to answer her call. Choose any form that works for you.
As always, you may choose to ignore this prompt and write what you want. We won’t embarrass you!
Last week
I
pulled all nighters
spent time with people
missed meetings
missed deadlines
rearranged myself
rearranged my mindset
thought I had a plan
kept distracted myself
kept going off plan
kept being messy
felt behind.
What I did last week.
I don’t remember.
But if I had to guess,
I would say that I probably…
Looked like a freak,
Stressing about my paper thats due.
To manage the stress,
I went to yoga.
Felt severely weak,
People pleasing and always saying yes.
While I sat and looked at the mess,
that I left when I was rushing to the next thing.
Some one please
get me a flip phone.
So I can ignore the news
and the messages that are always asking for more.
There are several telling moments in your poem: You’re feeling the stress of the end of a semester and the paper pressure I recall those days both as an undergrad and in my MA program.That tension is clear. Glad you’re doing yoga to get some relief. You don’t have to say “yes” to everything. This is so important for teachers to learn. We are not indispensable. Turn off notifications on your phone. Get an app to help control your usage. Keep writing. It’s a good place to record your stress as you’ve done here. Know you’re in good company. We all feel your pain.
MW! thank you for your poem this week. I’ll get you a flip phone if you can get me one. Let’s get through this together.
Dear Poet Friends,
Thank you for your amazing poems today, and thank you for the kind words about the prompt. I’ll check back Tuesday morning to see if anyone else drops in.
Glenda, thank you for this invitation to talk back to the harmful absurdity in the White House. I was inspired by the resolve of your poem’s words.
Re: Last Week
Patriotism and Nationalism
with Charles DeGaulle’s reminding us
pride in ourselves is different from
hating all others. 2. I searched
their eyes to see if anyone looked down
in recognition of history
repeating, looping back to when
the world was a hair-trigger away from war. 3. I lingered at a locker with a magnet of an angry
orange twisted face shouting “fight!” 4. I wondered if she got what she was fighting for
or if she was just parroting the only stable adult at home. 5. In my paranoid principles, I bit my tongue on social media so I may continue to teach truth unscrutinized
but the heart longs to be known.
Emily,
Gurl, as someone who is trying to be better about biting my tongue on social media, let me tell you this: It’s a fact people’s minds are not changed on social media, and scrolling past is not tacit consent. It’s critical ignoring. What you do in the classroom is so much more important, so you must protect it, as it’s clear to me you are. Love, love, love these lines:
Patriotism and Nationalism
with Charles DeGaulle’s reminding us
pride in ourselves is different from
hating all others.”
Keto doing that!
Is a listicle a poetry form? Maybe we should call it one…or at least I am today. Thanks Glenda for the invitation and all the wonderful mentors (including your own) to use as a starting point.
Five things I did last week:
Rolled with an earthquake on a Monday morning in my classroom while my students were out at their music class. It was not THE big one, but it was a big one.
Realized I made a BIG mistake in preparing our class ceramics project. Now our birds with feet will be footless…or footloose as they fly freely with no visible feet. Determined to turn this mishap into a beautiful oops…with a surprise twist (yet to be announced).
Finished reading a book (a memoir). Started reading two books, one a self-indulgent crime novel that came up on my online library holds, the other a nonfiction book about leadership that arrived on my doorstep last week (a book I didn’t order–but I do know who did).
Closed the rings on my fitness app every day last week, every day in April so far, every day for the year 2025 (and 2024 and 2023…) Has this become an obsession?
Wrote a poem each day, posted a poem each day, taught children about poetry each day, found myself immersed in poetry each day, swam in the poetry (mostly avoided treading water), breathing in the words, stroking through the rhythms, floating in the words of others, splashing in a variety of forms, propelling myself to experiment, dive deeply, hold my breath and hope I don’t drown. And when I feel like I’m drowning, I find myself grabbing for a life preserver: another poem.
Kim Douillard
4/21/25
Kim, your poem is so inspiring, especially the part about closing your rings- wow! I love the variety of accomplishments you’ve shared with us. I’m so excited that you ate sharing your love of poetry with your students. Bravo!
Kim- I so love the metaphor of swimming in poems! The playfulness and thrill of a deep dive and eent of danger were a great plot within your last week poem. I’m glad you survived the earthquake intact with all your ceramics!
Kim,
Yes, list poems are a thing. See: Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, et al. for stellar examples. I like the way you explicate your lists, but that last section in poetry and how it is part of your being is my favorite, especially these concluding lines:
“And when I feel like I’m drowning, I find myself grabbing for a life preserver: another poem.“
I LOVED this prompt, Glenda!
Last Week’s Accomplishments
I
wrote poetry
spent three days in bed past 8
loved my husband up close
loved my children from afar
appreciated silence
wished I could appreciate it some more
said thank you
said I love you
found some inner peace and then
lost it again
lived.
Chea, I could have written so many of these lines, too! I long for a time when I can sleep past 8. I really like your appreciation line, as well as the one about finding and losing inner peace. You’ve said a lot in not so many words.
Love the brevity and the repetition (loved, loved, said, said), the found then lost…and that one word ending! Bravo!
Chea, I love how you bookended your poem with “I lived”- you included some relaxation and happiness, love the glimpse of inner peace lost moment. And living and loving and taking care of ourselves is a kind of resistance, too!
Chea,
I’m so happy you like the prompt. I love a good list like the one you’ve created in your poem, but I was sad to read “lost it again” after reading “I found some inner peace.” I hope that peace returns. I’m willing it into being for you.
I love your poem Chea! I appreciate your line about “appreciated silence, wished I could appreciate it some more”. I feel that I so often overlook how much I truly value silence and alone time, and I definitely need to soak it up more. Thank you for the reminder!
Just gushing over everyone’s poems and the collective, creative resistance of this community! Thank you all. Poems were different in different times.
^^^ thank you all!
Glenda, thank you for all the resources and options today. I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but your commitment to writing about the evils of the occupant in the White House and his musketeers is appreciated.
I am back from Spring Break, and it only took about 7 minutes into the morning to realize how different a day flows when I’m back at work.
What I Didn’t Do During Spring Break
I didn’t…
go to bed before 9p.m.
wake up before 5:30a.m.
write any anecdotal records
text the girls’ group 15 times before recess
sit in traffic or shout, “Drive your car!”
think about demons who steal my joy
eat breakfast before 7a.m. while stacking papers
eat a cold lunch while correcting papers
read any books I’d already started
forget to stretch and breathe deeply each morning
forget to write poetry with my Ethical ELA friends
forget my dental appointment
forget my eye exam
forget how much I needed to rest
I didn’t forget.
© Stacey L. Joy, 4/21/25
Stacey, seems like you had a wonderful Spring break. I remember those days of teaching and the early hours. Funny though, I still wake up early but have time to read. Ah, retirement!
Stacey — Thank heavens for spring break. Teachers rule! So so so so much work. I love how you set up this poem… “I didn’t…” I’ve been there and it’s no picnic. You are a warrior and I’m so glad you are here, writing when you could be snoozing. I appreciate you! Hugs, Susie
Stacey,
Spring break is the medicine we all need this year. Glad your sb was wonderful. My favorite line is
“think about demons who steal my joy”
That’s not easy given everything. Don’t let that “drive your car” turn into road rage, which I think would be hard to fend off in your area. And I love litotes, so you picked the perfect literary device today. It’s so fun to use.
I confess, before I was divorced and in my right mind, I had a bad case of road rage and actually got out of my car at a stop sign to yell at a “crazy woman” who kept swerving. It was a day after the L.A. Riots, so my excuse was that I was an angry Black woman yelling at a white woman who shouldn’t have been in my neighborhood. I was the crazy woman. Thank God, I am healed and will never be her again. I just yell, “Drive your car!” and keep on pushing along listening to my podcasts.
Stacey,
I still have to talk Ken down when he’s driving. I’ve started giving him *the talk* when we head out. He’ll be driving in France next week, and I started w/ the talk last week. Everything in my life became calmer after I started studying g Teaching with Love and Logic, but Regretfully I still have my moments.
I like your repeated line at the end and the list of self care items in between. Sounds like you appreciated a well deserved break!
5 Things I learned Last Week
By Mo Daley 4/21/25
Last week I learned:
(even though Jordan never played for them and I don’t care about sports)
(and now I question if I really know anything at all about cooking)
(you really should visit the Field Museum if you haven’t yet)
(dog sitting a senior food-aggressive pooch on chemo is a serious commitment!)
(although I am questioning the wisdom of that choice)
Mo,
Your random learning experiences remind me of how there is so much more to learn. The bullet points emphasize that, as though to say there is more to the list. I knew the onion bit but not the whale detail. I’m certain I’ll never learn to keep my mouth shut, but I am learning to hit pause first.
Ha, Mo, we have another thing in common!! I am clueless and careless about sports.
I think it’s good that you recognize you need to say no more often. That’s a boundary of self-care and preservation.
Mo — each of these is big stuff. The whale…well, that’s literally REALLY BIG stuff! I’m gonna write you a permission slip…Mo Daley does not need to “keep a civil tongue”… Signed, her bud in STL. Hugs, Susie
Mo, what a creative way to approach this prompt. I like the parenthetical clarifications. Your focus on learning is great. There are so many things I don’t know. As Socrates said: “The more I know the less I know.” My favorite is your final point about keeping “a civil tongue.” It is impossible sometimes
Oooh! I love this list plus commentary format! My favorite is the blue whale fact and the recommendation to visit the Field Museum.
Mo- I enjoyed how you respond to yourself in each of these lines. I want to go back to the Field Museum!! The last line I can relate to!!
What did I do last week?
Oh my, how much time
Do we have to run through this?
For my students…
Laminated
Scored
Created
Planned
Assuaged
For my children…
Motivated
Played
Danced
Sang
Cooked
For the love of my life…
Joked
Listened
Encouraged
Conspired
Laundered
For myself…
All of the above
Because I got to
Do it all
Out of
love
Ashley, your poem captures the many hairs educators wear each week! The assuaging, cooking laundering, out of live makes each of these emotionally exhausting, though we often been so much this done for us, too. Thanks for sharing.
Ashley,
These mini lists are perfect. My heart melted when I reached
“For myself…
All of the above
Because I got to
Do it all
Out of
love”
I spent the weekend w/ my not quite three grandson and got to do lots of these things w/him.
Ashley, your poem is so relevant. My children are grown, but I remember those times. Most importantly, you do it because you love your family and your students. Thank you!
Great prompt, yet it still took me all day to figure out which direction I wanted to take.
I was jetlagged last week
and just a little ill
which greatly affected my productivity.
I failed to send high security information
in an insecure Signal chat.
I didn’t incarcerate men in a foreign prison
without due process
and I definitely didn’t use them as
props in a video
trying to look tough.
I didn’t ignore a Suoreme Court order
or break bread with a dictator
or even hope to be one myself.
I didn’t talk about annexing Canada
or try to convince Greenland
they want to be Americans.
I didn’t rename the Gulf of Mexico
or open up national forests for logging.
I didn’t scrub websites of anyone not white
or threaten to withhold funding
to anyone supporting DEI.
I guess my lack of efficiency
makes me not an ideal fit
for the current administration.
I’m just too incompetent
at incompetence.
Those last lines! Man, talk about a mic drop. Absolutely poignant and a beautiful poem of resistance.
Cheri,
You’re gonna have to repeat the signal chat line given the redundancy of that guy Orangey likes looking at *signaling more than once. I hope you’re feeling better this week. I do love all the evil you draw attention to here, but it’s that ending that’s the ultimate take it to Jesus line for me:
“I’m just too incompetent
at incompetence.”
Very good sentiments! You spent your week well. Keep being incompetent at incompetence. Great list!
Glenda — Thank you for your prompt and reading recommendations.
What Did You Do Last Week?
Last week, I was furious when I learned the ESL coordinator’s title and job description were changed to erase any suggestion of equity. Hmm, hello! How do we teacher our ESL sudents to learn to read without specialized programs?
Last week, I hugged my colleague when she told me one of our Guatemalan families had been deported.
Last week, the word Black was removed from the title of our school’s Black Student Leadership Club—because, apparently, some privileged white people felt the name was exclusionary.
Last week, my daughter paid $200 more for a laptop than she would have during Biden’s term.
Last week, I secretly hoped China wouldn’t back down. Someone needs to stand up to the bully.
Last week, I was instructed to review our school reading lists and purge books that mentioned gender or sexuality.
Last week, I suggested offering choice and a letter for parents to sign instead of censorship.
Last week, I emailed my congressman.
Last week, I considered moving out of Ohio to somewhere bluer.
Oh, Tammi, this is so heartbreaking, especially the removal of “Black” and purging books and erasing suggestions of “equity”. Do they really want the opposite of DEI? How can someone really say that seriously? What have we become? I love that you push back with suggestions of your own and contacting your congress member. Keep it up!
This is so heartbreaking, and you point to every hardship and heartbreak swirling around us right now. The willingness to fight is inspiring.
Tammi,
Nearly everything on this list horrifies and angers me. Listen, I harbor the same thoughts about China and about moving out of Idaho. There are days I feel trapped. I’m sure you feel the same. I am grateful for your poem and your friendship. What you have done in this poem is documents the horrible things happening, and I think that is so vital right now. Poetry may be where we must hide much of what is going on in our country.
Tammi, when it seems there can’t be worse, things that you mention happen. So sad! I hope you don’t have to move, and more resistance would resolve some issues
Tammi, your poem reminds me of the times students wondered if the Bible should be banned because it mentions so many situations and incidents considered immoral, illegal and “bad”. I happen to be one of the many who believe it’s not what they read that can be bad, but what they experience and observe about those who claim they are good.. Oh! That’s hypocrisy and a repeated behavior mentioned in the Bible. Oh my! Are they gonna ban me for pointing that out!
Tammi — What a kick in the shorts! Guatemalan families deported! DAMMIT! “Black Student Leadership…” DAMMIT! “erase…equity” DAMMIT! “Purge books that mention gender or sexuality” — This just burns my buns! DAMMIT! Censorship and nazi cleansing… I’m with you and considering moving…I’ve been stewing on this for 4 months now. Missouri is DISGUSTINGLY red anymore (STL is not but the damned state is awful), and I’m looking for bluer skies. Your list is just abhorrent and I love that you wrote this piece. Whatever you do, don’t quit writing…don’t quit sharing these atrocities. Keep fighting. Susie
Glenda, what a great prompt. All the examples were stellar. Your poem and the inspiration by Snyder is so good. I loved the variations on the last line in each stanza–did not, will not, never, and refusal to comply in advance. Yes, keep up the good fight!
The milk of human kindness
ain’t got thick cream on it
for all of us. Ask
HooverMusk & Trump.~John Samuelson
What I Didn’t Do Today
· Deface National Park Service property by graffitiing over “Hoover” on this, one of Samuelson’s Rocks.
· Break any bones or twist any ankles hiking at JTNP
· Bake homemade hamburger buns
· Get bit by the rattlesnake
· Kill the pope
· Give up
Denise — I like the direction you took with your poem addressing “What [you] I didn’t do today. ” The brevity of your sentences really works, especially the last line. Glad you didn’t “give up” !
Denise,
’Preciate the photo and the Samuelson strike through quote. My favorite line in your poem is the first. There’s more than one way to “deface national park service property,” I think. I’m so glad you have gorgeous JTNP to visit and inspire your verses.
Denise, I am so glad you didn’t do the things you mentioned, especially the last one – giving up is not an option. Hugs.
I love the list of what you didn’t do today and the way the lines get shorter to make your point at the end. (Although homemade hamburger buns would have tasted good!)
Dear Poet Friends,
I had a long drive home from Boise today and a Zoom coming up shortly, but I will respond to every poem. I’m in MST, so y’all on the east coast may be sawing logs by the time I finish. Don’t forget to check back in the morning. And thank you all for your wonderful words today.
Thank you, Glenda, for this wonderful prompt!
here in D.C.
I exit at Union Station
walk right by all the fools
who have forfeited their role
in our balance of power
I continue on for nine blocks
to the bastion of governance
known as a preschool classroom
where
I am surrounded by
brilliance
teachers and students in
a dynamic environment
filled with precious moments
surprise – laughter – books –
frustrations – paint – play – more
they teach me joy and wonder
I head back home
filled with gratitude
this is the Washington, D.C.
I know and love
some days I stop
to protest
stand in solidarity with others
each day
I’ve sought
an elusive balance
between
not letting him or his minions
own my headspace
and
not looking away
I’ve kept moving forward
I offer many prayers
I hold onto hope
Maureen,
Thank you so much for showing us the best of D.C. :
Thanks also for sharing your wisdom and hope—both are contagious.
Maureen,
I wonder how DC is handling all of this.
I love this stanza:
I continue on for nine blocks
to the bastion of governance
And the one that follows, chronicling the good work and joy that happens in that learning space. You represent the balance between hope and madness so well in this.
Maureen, you named it! This is what we should cherish most of all:
“precious moments
surprise – laughter – books –
frustrations – paint – play – more
they teach me joy and wonder”
Let’s keep holding onto hope. Thank you!
Maureen,
I get the impression from your poem that the town is one of hope , and one of nurturing. And you give him a residual focus that I think is true of things that are more fleeting, hopefully. The swampiness will pass… I liked the spacing of the ending, as I feel more exhausted and yet, still holding on. Thank you for your perspective.
Maureen,
The balance you strike in your life and write about in your poem is so important to one’s mental sanity.
Thank you for reminding me of “hold [ing} onto hope.”
What a better view of Washington DC than the first foolish one you walked right by. Yes, to preschool and all those precious moments to teach us important life lessons:
The best hope for our country is in preschool classes. And the best governance too.
Maureen — Your warrior self is amazing and I salute your grit. You are wonderful. Thank you for being that educator with those little ones who need just who you are. Finding the “balance”… nearly impossible…keeping us all off kilter while they take a chainsaw to democracy…helluva playbook. “I hold onto hope.” Keep stand[ing] in solidarity when you can. I will too. Thank you. Susie
Maureen,
My heart hurts for you and other friends in the DC area. It’s so hard to see the defilement of our country by this regime and what you call
“fools
who have forfeited their role
in our balance of power”
Keep moving forward and staying balanced. And thank you for an insider peek at the capital.
The last few days have been days of protest. Today I made a list.
Do I have to
buy an electric vehicle in ten years?
wear a gender affirming haircut?
speak up when spoken to?
Do I have to
stay home at night?
pull the weeds?
like my relatives?
Do I have to
talk to everyone here?
not bite my nails?
wear stockings?
Do I have to
brush my hair 50 strokes?
brush my teeth after every meal?
brush the cat?
Do I have to
keep making this list?
try to be creative?
stay awake?
Do I have to
hold in my anger about America?
stay home in fear?
watch what I say in public?
Susan,
The rhetorical questions throughout are a powerful contemplation of being a woman, in particular, for me as a reader. I hear so much of the shoulds and messages that attempt to constrain and guilt. What I really appreciate here is how the speaker in this poem knows the answer to every question.
The repetition of “Do I have to” adds such weight to the questions. Such a hard and demanding time we are living through.
Susan — I love the honesty of your questions. The last stanza, especially —
“Do I have to
hold in my anger about America?
stay home in fear?
watch what I say in public?” — touches upon what many feel and are afraid to ask.
Susan, hear, hear! So many questions, and I like how Sarah pointed out that the answers to each are known by the speaker. We are powerful. Thank you, Susan.
Amen for you, Susan! Great poem! Strong voice does it every time…you did it here for sure. Putting these questions in a bam-bam-bam kind of list is potent! I love it. Thank you. Susie
Susan,
My friend, you don’t have to do any of those things. What exactly is a “gender affirming haircut” anyway? Most importantly, you do not have to keep that anger about our country to yourself. In this I am absolutely certain.
Hi Glenda,
I gender affirming haircut is one that is either feminine or masculine and must go with your birth certificate declaration of sex. I hear that in one southern state, the barbers can not give a short masculine haircut to women and men can not wear their hair long.
Ooh, this is exactly the prompt I need today. Thank you!
So how’s YOUR Monday? Or “How I learned to respond to the Board of Regents form plotting my time for a week”
Directions: Please fill in the amount of time you spent in each category on the table, in 15 minute increments, for the week of _____
You might find it handy to track your time each day and then fill the table in at the end of the week.
Monday, April 21st, 2025:
4 am: Wake up wondering whether I should cancel the writing retreat for lack of enrollment.
4:30 am: Wonder if I am experiencing vertigo.
4:45 am: Clearly I’m not going back to sleep, now wondering if I pretend to sleep 15 more minutes until the alarm rings so the dog’s routine isn’t disrupted.
5 am: Begin regular dog walk/pet feeding routine.
Skip to 8:15 am: Arrive at office, open email, stamp out fires.
9:15 am: Still stamping out fires.
10-noon: Teach classes. Hurray!
Noon-1: Mail mom’s birthday gift, cancel dental appointment, eat lunch, walk dog– I guess these don’t fit in the table . . .
1 pm: Make a phone call, trying to track down a principal who doesn’t answer emails.
1:30 pm: Cancel writing retreat for certain. Wipe egg off face.
1:45 pm: More email stamping out of fires. Smoky the Bear and I go way back.
2 pm: Stop working because dog insists on a walk.
Ahhhh . . . . much better. A walk in the spring sunshine is exactly what I needed.
3:30 pm: Ignore table and decide to read a book instead.
Absolutely love the joy that emanates from “10-noon: Teach classes. Hurray!” – this is how I feel, too.
Sheila,
“Teach classes. Hurray!” is such a great line! And the constant reemergence of fires (email is the best!). I feel like so many days are like this.
Sheila,
I can relate to this –“open email, stamp out fires./
9:15 am: Still stamping out fires.”
Glad you were able to make it to the teaching and then were able to make time for yourself.
Clever form, Sheila. I like the joy you experience when you are teaching, and the final “Ahhhh…much better. A walk in the spring sunshine…” Beautiful!
Sheila,
The micromanaging of educators’ time really sticks in my craw. It’s insane and unproductive. Your approach reminds me of snarky notes I used to embed in my yearly goals. “Avoid the bitches in the other hall” was my favorite. Long story. Anyway, you took the perfect approach, and I love both the format and ending.
“I guess these don’t fit in the table . . .” is hilarious. I’d walk the dog, too.
Wow, another principal who doesn’t answer emails! What on earth has happened to communication! Perfect ending with the walk in the sunshine.
What did I do today?
20 minutes before a meeting:
I opted for a walk instead
of another cup of coffee
though 8 instead of 10
minutes in, I turned
around because Perfume &
Snowflake were coming
my way. Snowflake always
barks at me, and Perfume’s
scent lives in my hair after
just walking by her. I just
didn’t know if I could handle
such gentle assaults today,so
I made it to my meeting with 4
minutes to spare and drank
the remaining drops of my
first cup of coffee.
You have me feeling a bit sad for Snowflake and Perfume and their lack of interaction with you, lol. A brisk walk is always a great idea!
Sarah,
Walks can be so rejuvenating. Glad you made it back in time for your meeting and your last sips of coffee.
The numbers in your poem have captivated me. “gentle assaults” is a perfect way to describe Snowflake’s and Perfume’s annoyance. Fun poem.
Snowflake has so many stories to tell you – – I’m sorry they interrupted your walk, but I know the deep satisfaction of that first cup of coffee before a meeting. Ready, set, meet!
Sarah,
OMG, a dog that stinks named Perfume. That’s hilarious. I notice that even in our effort not to be tied to the clock, we can’t escape the 8, 10, 4 of life.
Love the numbers, love the choices, love the details.
[with a nod to Yellowstone]
EVEN BETTER THAN SEX
To: the musk in charge
Re: what I did this week
plotted
schemed
dreamed
of
your
ride
to the
train station,
watching
you
squirm
like the
worm
you
are
deed
done
I leaned
back
took
a long
draft
from the after-cigarette.
by Susie Morice, April 21, 2025
[Glenda — Your prompt was EXACTLY what we needed. You are an ace! Love, Susie]
Oh, I love how this is a trail marking the exit to the train departure or the smoke from the after-cigarette. The pace of this was quite breathy and racy just like the title. Ha.
Love every word of it, Susie! We have a similar way of thinking and saying: suitcase–train station–russia, i.e., pack your bags and get the h*** back to your country. Well, there is also another saying, but I can’t spell it out here, but it’s about the russian ship. Thank you for your support and the Ukrainian flag by your house! I am so grateful for all my friends here.
Love the skinny worm look of this poem. And that ” long /draft/from the after-cigarette.”
Yes, yes, yes, Susie! Your image here of what you planned is perfect! I love your closing actions and your title is a hoot! Thank you for this! Loved it!
There is something just magical about the satisfaction of the after-cigarette. I can see the smoke rings swirling upward from the pop of the jaw……(I was a master at this once in my life). Ha!
Susie,
You brought the 
w/ this poem. It’s a doozie. I love you so much, and I’d love to share a cigarette w/ you when this nightmare is over, and I don’t even smoke. Can’t we just sent apartheid boy up in one of his exploding rockets?
Glenda — I’ve never smoked in my life, but I can imagine the satisfaction after… I love the “train station” metaphor that is now a permanent part of my lexicon after watching the wicked Yellowstone series … just such an apt ending…or a rocket is fine too.
Get some sleep tonight, my friend. Love, Susie
Ohhhh, yesss! Here’s one for the books, Susie! I smoked a while as a young adult because I longed to be seductive like my mom. That after-cigarette has POWER!! You nailed it from start to finish. (tapping the ashes…)
it’s none of your business
last week I canceled therapy
did yoga under a warm spring sun
I swallowed pills
shot tequila
belted “Purple Rain”
slept a whole night through
I ran four times at 4 am
ate fruits and vegetables
read NPR articles
thought what the f*ck
read my horoscope
mediated, foraged
read fantasy,
the boys the one and only ivan
the wild edible plants of oklahoma
I showed up to work
a blue jean rebel
wrote okay poems
quoted Thoreau
washed my hair once
cheered at baseball games
chanted MVP
avoided social media
let chips and queso
seduce me
I stretched my sore body
searched my sore heart
stifled my screams
soothed friends’ fears
chewed shroom gummies
added ashwagandha
added a mile
added more
love
pleasure
hope
last
week
I
showed
all
the
way
up
Kasey — When I sat down to write my piece for today, your first line is exactly what I wrote first. Then, I launched a poem. We are definitely on the same page. I loved your week and your voice and really really loved the last 6 lines. Way to go! Susie
Oh, yes, Kasey. I love how you responded to Glenda’s prompt here to curate a powerful recap of showing all the way up for the self in the ways the speaker most needed. So much felt raw and authentic with intention toward “love/pleasure/hope.” Yes. Yes.
Kasey,
I was hooked the whole time through this! The stanzas are so cohesive and fast paced. I love what you do with the o sounds and then the “ch” and the S sounds. “Let chips and queso seduce me”—the struggle is real!
and then the slimming out of the poem at the end. So good!
Wow, Kasey, you accomplished a lot. I wish I had been hanging with you! Your end is a triumph! Your energetic voice is fun and compelling. Showing up is huge! Thanks for this refreshing poem that is both a bit edgy and compassionate!
What a week! I’m tired—-yet inspired—by the myriad of things you have done!
Kasey,
I like the building of speed as far as cadence goes at the end. I like/understand the struggling, and yet: I showed all the way up…It is about the showing up, beyond the panic of the struggle. You captured that.
Love the variety of verbs here in this long list of living. Thanks for sharing your more than okay poem
Kasey,
Thats some attitude in the first line, and I’m here for it. I often say, “it’s none of my business, but…” I’m toasting your poem w/ an imaginary shot of tequila (none in the house). Wonderful reference to The One and Only Ivan. It really is appropriate given its themes and this current regime. That last section is pure gold. I can tell you every teacher in this group is showing up in ways that tiny heart apartheid boy never will understand. Brilliant poem.
What a great prompt, Glenda. I really appreciated all the various entry points you offered. I decided to go back to Musk’s email with the phrase “What did you get done this week?” and then turn it into a Golden Shovel of sorts – with five stanzas of five lines each in honor of his request for five items – and a send-off using “this week”
What did you get done?
What usually happens in a four-day week is exactly what
did happen last week: all the drama of five days crams into four –
“You there! Do you have a hall pass?
Get back to class!” – so that it’s impossible to get anything of substance
done.
What I mean by that is that even if I
did have time to grade the essays and plan the lessons
you probably think are the bulk of my job, what I actually
get around to at work is almost assuredly much less than you think should be
done.
What I do, mostly, is talk to students –
“Did you figure that out?” “It will get better.” “I’d like
you to try again.” “Do you have a plan?” – and
get them excited about learning, about doing more than simply getting something
done.
What is “done,” anyway? Is the essay ok if the writing the student
“did” was generated by AI? Do I get a check mark from
you if I slowed down their swinging fists but did not
get them to stop hitting each other? Does that count as
done?
What can I possibly tell you that I
did in order to convince
you that I’m worth your money? What are you
getting out of me? Is that what you mean when you ask what I’ve
Done?
Here’s my report:
This week, I helped students grow and think so that, eventually, our society will not be this weak.
I like the play on week/weak at the end, very clever. I know every teacher here resonates with all that you said. There is frustration, rebellion, and hope in this poem. Thank you for sharing!
Ooh, nicely done! This feels like it needs to be paired with Taylor Mali’s “What do teachers make?”
Amanda,
Brilliant format. I hear your voice in this poem and am so glad you are here today. I’ve missed you bunches and look forward to you every day. I really wish everyone understood this about teaching:
“what I actually
get around to at work is almost assuredly much less than you think should be
done”
Of course we know you are doing exactly what needs to be done.
Glenda, thank you for hosting today and bringing this to the forefront in this shared space. I have had trouble keeping up with writing everyday and today I went on a quick rant that was sidetracked by emojies and limited time–but I am posting it! Also, red cards is a link for those who aren’t aware of this resource.
plus a
in ➐ days, packed
with chaos, productivity
calendar coded in color blocks
to identify the family member
side hustle, repetitive activity
but did not include
acts of defiance with small
boycotts of privilege
advocacy sharing out red cards
sitting with a loved one in hospital
a reason to cancel, but they don’t
dissolve into the completed buckets
one of those blocks
self-care and
–as a reminder for me or
anyone who tries to add or
mother nature’s
micromanaging my schedule
add boundaries and breathing
but alas, add it to another day
I need to go now
There is just so much to do, but all that you did MATTERED, even the reflection on needing more self-care (who doesn’t when it is so hard to be alive?) The end just shows how we barely have time to digest before we have to keep going- what are our alternatives?
Stefani, I hear you. Some days are just so overwhelming. I like the color coding in your calendar. This is so important:
“did not include
acts of defiance with small
boycotts of privilege
advocacy sharing out red cards“
And then a reminder that the calendar should include self-care and time to reset. Thank you for writing among all these 100 things to do!
Love the recycle symbol at the end, Stefani. The busy life seems to be par for the teacherly way of visiting. I’m thankful for the days of nature and the organizing of ideas (when time allows). Boundaries, indeed.
Stefani,
works for me.
This is a fast pace, hold your breath for the ride verse. The “I gotta go now” is perfect for a poem emphasizing how teachers are clock bound. Love the emojis. A few months ago I wrote a poem w/ only emojis giving other names for the current White House occupant, so this poem
Glenda, you are making us think outside the “closet”. Forsooth (partially in honor of the Bard), I’ll tell the truth. (Please forgive me if this appears twice. This will be a second time a post did not show up for a couple hours after the original posting.)
Forsooth. Here’s the Truth
Last week, I didn’t give up
Even when it was time to sup
My husband and I shared what was left
As we talked about politics on the right
We decided the best thing for us to do
Is do what is right, even at night
When the evening news disappoints
Don’t let it get us stiff in the joints
I didn’t give up
When WiFi blew out
When ChapGPT did not obey
No matter how clearly I said what to say
When time came to record new Podcast series
Of “Keeping Them on S.T.R.E.A.M.”
I started to beam.
I didn’t give up
When the holidays came
“Cause I knew my son was coming
Even when kiddin’ and we disagree
He doesn’t respond with thumbing.
I didn’t give up
When I shied away from posting
Why I celebrate this season.
For me, JC is really the reason.
What about you?
What do you celebrate?
Let’s let it be acts of love not hate.
I love your theme of not giving up, Anna. I also respect that you are always unabashedly you.
“Stay Golden”
Last week I went over commas and semicolons
a kid asked about religion.
Last week I gave examples of assonance, consonance, end rhyme, slant rhyme
a kid asked what DEI meant.
As we read Homer’s The Odyssey in this classroom
a student missed school because his mom died suddenly.
The vocab unit bombed
but I learned about a student’s family in Mexico.
The reading comprehension scores were down
but a kid literally used the words “safe space” to describe our room. (she’s failing English class, but I would never call her a failure)
Yes, I still have 78 missing assignments
yet a student’s poem made me cry.
I don’t know the numbers on my evaluation yet
But I do know what the kids hear me say everyday
and I hope they remember my banner above the door as they leave me and move on.
Goosebumps, Luke! Thank you for this! I love the interplay (and conflict) here between “the curriculum” that we “must” teach — grammar, texts, vocab — and the “real world” that our students engage with everyday. (I’m using a lot of quotation marks because I know these things are all very nuanced and complicated.) I just wanted to say I loved your poem: those last four lines especially! (…but what does your “banner above the door” say!?)
Thank you!, and the title is what the banner says. I start every trimester by saying I want them to become better people more so than just better students and talk about the golden rule as the norm in our space,
Thanks, Luke! I didn’t see the title the first time I read it: I must’ve just dove in! You were probably, like, uh, it’s right there, it’s the title of the poem, dude, I thought I made it pretty obvious, lol. (And, on a side note, I love “the golden rule as classroom norm” discussion that you have with your students!)
Beautiful, Luke. Keeping choosing the Golden moments of our teaching lives. Love all of this.
Thank you for sharing the realities of teaching. I appreciate the hope the you intertwined with the challenges.
Luke, I love this entire poem because it gets to the heart of a teacher’s experience that non-teachers don’t know, ignore, or critique–and safe space is a key to it all. Thank you for drafting and sharing this gem today.
I love this! I thought the title was a reference to The Outsiders until I read the comments. Such a great focus on what ultimately matters.
Luke, I like the nod to The Outsiders in your title. What you do every single day in your classroom will stay with these kids for life. There are things much more important than evaluation scores, and “safe space” is one of the most crucial ones. Thank you!
Luke,
Wow! I’m really blown away by this! You manage to perfectly encapsulate and juxtapose the things that really matter in our classrooms and the things that don’t.
This part:
but a kid literally used the words “safe space” to describe our room. (she’s failing English class, but I would never call her a failure)
is leaving me speechless.
Luke, what a great illustration of the two worlds we are encountering in classrooms. I don’t know the banner you have, but I don’t need to, as I really get the feeling it is a reflection of your heart. I hope you have years ahead in the classroom, as I feel the sense of compassion you bring to it. We need, the kids need, educators like this.
Stay well.
Luke,
Yes, “Stay Golden.” I totally get what you’re saying about students whom many people label as outsiders. When you have students telling you your classroom is a “safe space” you’re doing a hell of a lot more right than any test scores will ever show. Props to you and your student poets.
Luke, I am so happy to see you interact lovingly with your students. You listen and care.
Look, I apologize,
I want to get ahead
of this and be as
transparent as I
can, in case, the
unthinkable becomes
quite and utterly
thinkable.
Last week, when
he called – I’m
not even sure
how he got my
number – but
that doesn’t
matter, he has
a number of
techbro flunkies,
so he could have
gotten it rather
easily, anyways,
when he called
and was asking
what five things
I accomplished
the previous week
I told him –
and, here, again,
I want to preface
that I hope my
anger didn’t get
the best of me
and cause this
whole situation
to get worse.
Well, I told him
in no uncertain
terms to complete
“an act” upon himself
that normally requires
another –
but, hey, we should
be fine, right? unless
he’s part Komodo
dragon or New
Mexico whiptail
lizard or hammerhead
shark or any other
species that
can reproduce
asexually or through
parthenogenesis.
I mean, come on,
what are the odds
that he’s part wasp
or stick bug or
jellyfish?
Oh, shit, we
may be in
trouble here.
Sorry, again.
____________________________________________
Glenda, thank you for so much: your poetic resistance, your commentary, your passion for humanity and compassion and equality and…I could go on! For my offering, I imagined adding to the number of little Mini-Musks in the world; then, I shuddered at the thought, and then I crafted this poem.
Scott, I’m glad it’s not just me who think he’s an alien (and probably here on Earth illegally, to boot). I always leaned toward android, but now you’ve really got me thinking…
Wonderful word play and response to the day’s prompt.
What are the odds, indeed?
Great idea for a poem and well written. I definitely like some satire and/or humor sometimes even though I seem so introspective and serious. I liked reading this one . Thanks!
Scott, your wit is always top notch and the “techbro flunkies” phrase is my favorite descriptor here. I wish your poem didn’t hold any truth/reality!
Scott — AMEN! Indeed! The odds are “he’s part”…all of the above. Loved this. Made me feel darned good as I read it again. Dandy. Susie
Scott, your poem serves the purpose of the prompt today and then some. I like “techbro flunkies” as a clever identifier of Musk’s surrounding. Thank you for another witty offering today!
Scott,
I see you putting on your spelling bee cap w/ the big word “parthenogenesis.” The roleplaying in your poem is super fun. But I sure don’t want to think about apartheid boy reproducing, although the train left the station on that one long ago. Fun poem.
Scott, you may not see this, seeing as how it’s many days after you wrote this. But this gave me such a chuckle, especially the line about what you told him in no uncertain times. Hilarious.
Glenda, wow, your prompt is amazing, and I adore your strength and resilience! I love the repetition of “I will not comply in advance.” You’re a true crusader for justice and we need our representatives no matter our party affiliation to say no to the abuses that are occurring if we want to save our constitution and democracy. Some days it is better to just laugh at the unbelievable actions occurring on the national stage, but it’s frightening. This feeling inspired my poem.
Pissed Off
Last week I tried to be kind
prayed often and wondered why
I stay committed when I just want to give up
give in or flee—
I thought about murder and suicide
how selfless acts and mass shootings
continue to rise—I surmised
life’s upheavals trigger
powder kegs of anger that erupt
in mass casualties, war, and
insurmountable grief
Here’s the rub—
a whole lotta shit is bothering me….
I might take up knitting
be like Madame DeFarge
taking note of every indecency
warning others
Look around and consider the lives of all the world that we know, consider the faces of all the world that we know, consider the rage and discontent to which the Jacquerie addresses itself with more and more of certainty every hour. (from Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities)
Barb Edler
21 April 2025
Barb, there is so much anger and a tone of futility that punctuates these lines. I feel it, too. What can be done to not let the anger explode? Your maybe answer of knitting strikes me-the way we are in the background, continuing on, crafting and creating, and observing the same stitches over and over. Genius poem!
Thank you for your poem, Barb. I have some of the same feelings as you. What is worse is that I can’t share any of my thoughts or ideas with my students or I will get fired. Sad state of education, but we keep pushing through, right?! In the hopes that we can make a difference to the one.
Barb, your allusion was so perfect! As was your quote that served as your poem’s epigraph.
Barb, maybe we can use
As a prompt for another poem. I appreciate your connection to the Dickens quote as well. Thank you for sharing today and hopefully writing released a bit for you today.
Barb, I love that you ended on a Dickens quote. Those first three lines of the third stanza….yes, I’ll go get us some knitting needles and a skein of yarn. I’m there with you too…..I need to learn to knit for the peace of it.
Yes, Madame Edler! This is a prompt that resonated with us both so deeply. I loved your quote from Dickens. The layers of woe are overwhelming…to the point of feeling physically sick when I should be painting or singing. Geez. Knit on… Susie
Barb, thank you for reminding about timeless Dicken’s A Tale of Two Cities. Your poem grabs from the first Line: “Last week I tried to be kind,” and it seems if all of us would do this, maybe we would change something. As your poem continues, I hear your anger louder and louder with an intentional nod to Madame DeFarge and her knitting purpose. Very skillful and punchy! Thank you, friend.
Barb,
Your poem is full of righteous indignation at what we are witnessing in this broken world.And I insist on having you part of my little postage stamp corner of the universe.
”Here’s the rub—
a whole lotta shit is bothering me….”
”Rub” is the perfect word here. Thank you for reminding me of those lines in A Tale of Two Cities. I need to reread that book. It has been a long time since I picked it up.
Barb,
I feel what you have in this Pissed Off poem. It is true, and it is real, and I have felt that overwhelming nature of being overwhelmed. I saw you the other day (I did, really) and I wanted to come up and give you a hug. I think you may have been in the midst of the poem at the time. Sorry I wussed out…It won’t happen again.
I am trying to spend a little more time looking at nature, and quality time with old dogs, and finding little truths that will never disappoint. Maybe knitting?
Maybe you saw me when I was trying to get eye drops for an eye infection. Very painful and a huge pain in the butt trying to get my script. You were right to avoid me.
Glenda, you making us think outside the “closet”. Forsooth (partially in honor of the Bard), I’ll tell the truth.
Forsooth. Here’s the Truth
Last week, I didn’t give up
Even when it was time to sup
My husband and I shared what was left
As we talked about politics on the right
We decided the best thing for us to do
Is do what is right, even at night
When the evening news disappoints
Don’t let it get us stiff in the joints
I didn’t give up
When WiFi blew out
When ChapGPT did not obey
No matter how clearly I said what to say
When time came to record new Podcast series
Of “Keeping Them on S.T.R.E.A.M.”
I started to beam.
I didn’t give up
When the holidays came
“Cause I knew my son was coming
Even when kiddin’ and we disagree
He doesn’t respond with thumbing.
I didn’t give up
When I shied away from posting
Why I celebrate this season.
For me, JC is really the reason.
What about you?
What do you celebrate?
Let’s let it be acts of love not hate.
Anna,
Im celebrating the “acts of love not hate” with you. Hate is too self-destructive. I went to church W/ my son and his family yesterday, and the hymns were some of my father’s favorites, which was very moving for me as I approach the 50th anniversary of his death. And, friend, I’d be shocked if you were to give up. Of course, I’m here for your rhyming skills, too.
What Did You Do Last Week?
Plan, teach, explain, grade, listen,
help, encourage, support, motivate,
model, reflect, adapt, organize,
supervise, question, respond,
guide, manage, collaborate,
share, communicate, facilitate,
monitor, clarify, prepare, greet,
redirect, re-teach, demonstrate,
engage, connect, design, modify,
scaffold, evaluate, record, celebrate,
share, read, write, solve, wonder
worry, cry, reflect, navigate, advocate,
troubleshoot, print, email, call,
schedule, laugh, participate, try, inspire,
and do it all over again next week.
Melissa, you need to publish this in an educational journal as it captures everything an educator does. The re-teaching and re-directing can be exhausting. Heck, what teacher doesn’t cry! I love the positivity your poem ends with and enjoyed the rhythm of “worry, cry, reflect, navigate, advocate,” Powerful poem!
Melissa, I love all of this! “[A]nd do it all over again next week.” Yep. Second verse same as the first. Rinse, wash, repeat. Wait, that might actually be for something else…lol.
Whew, it is a lot isn’t it? Every teacher here can relate. Thanks!
Bravo, Melissa! This is a list that most of teachers complete every single day! For 90% percent of this work, teachers are not compensated, and we all know it.
Melissa,
Well, of course you did all of that! The breakneck pace of this is really remarkable. The -ate endings keep things flying. It reminds me a little bit of Maya Angelou’s “Woman’s Work” in the pacing and the listing Great poem!
Melissa,
This is brilliant! That last line makes teaching feel a bit like Groundhog Day. Choosing action verbs shows how on the move teachers are. Fabulous poem.
Melissa,
Now this is something to share with anyone who doesn’t understand the life of teachers!! I’m exhausted just reading this. WELL DONE!!
Glenda, thank you for the prompt and poems. I love your poem. I wish I could find joy in laughing at him, but I am not there yet.
Last Week
Last week, I spent the first three days in survival mode,
anxiously anticipating the Easter break we all needed.
Last week, I had such high hopes for how I would spend those
three precious days, yet sometimes, hopes get dashed.
Last week, I remembered the years I would spend
the Easter Triduum as part of the Music Ministry at my church.
Last week, I spent too much time doom-scrolling and trying to
prevent myself from falling into the abyss of sadness.
Last week, I spent a day with my granddaughters and their friends, making crafts with supplies pulled from my “Mary Poppins” bag.
Last week, I took all four of the Grands – two boys and two girls
for an afternoon of bowling, snacks, and laughing.
Last week, I returned to church for the first time in a long time –
praying for a world that is upside down and backward.
Today, I mourn the passing of Pope Francis, and
I am praying harder for this world, but have a little less hope.
Oh, Rita, your poem is filled with a lot of sorrow from the doom scrolling to the mourning Pope Francis. Your lines “Last week, I returned to church for the first time in a long time –
praying for a world that is upside down and backward.” resonated. I keep trying to prevent the falling, too. However, I loved that your week was also joyful with the grands. Sounds like you’re one fun grandma to have! Thanks for sharing this moving poem today!
I appreciate the emotion in your poem. Thank you for sharing your courage with us. I felt your words…”Last week, I returned to church for the first time in a long time –
praying for a world that is upside down and backward. Today, I mourn the passing of Pope Francis, and I am praying harder for this world, but have a little less hope.”
One thing that I have learned is that when there is no peace on earth, there is peace in Christ. There are better and more hopeful days to come.
That stanza with the grandkids becomes a beautiful turn for the entire poem! Thank you.
Rita,
This is a tender, vulnerable poem. I went to church w/ my son and his family yesterday and silently prayed I would not hear any right-wing nonsense. You must limit the doomscrolling (says your fellow doomscrolling). Have hope. We’re seeing cracks in the regime. Concentrate on the grands and on your writing.
Had to delete a double post, oops!
WEAK TEACH, PREACH STRONG WEEK
Taught for one,
But I needed two,
Had to steal,
Just to make it through.
Steal the time,
From my family and you,
Taught for one,
but I needed two.
Influenced a hundred,
But I didn’t get fifty.
I got to wear blue jeans,
Now,
That was nifty.
Bought um’ from a store,
Called “Mr. Thrifty”.
Too tight,
They hardly fit me.
Stomach growls
‘Cause I am teaching
“We ain’t in it for the pay” is hellish preaching,
Can’t reach the kids that are reaching,
Standardized rooms with standardized bleachings.
Got charged more
For
the student meal
Took extra milk,
But, let’s define steal.
Worked sixty for forty,
Now,
That’s a hell of deal.
Teachers afraid to talk
About how they really feel.
Underpaid and overworked,
Part-time jobs,
Dressed in t-shirts.
Reciting every bible verse,
While using
a variety
curse words.
“One rapper that cuss,
Shiaaat,
he making
More than all of us
.
Swift selling tickets for a grand,
Steady supporting her….
Her proud- broke fans.
Country ain’t country,
Not all get lunch- free
Some steal when they hungry!”
Saw kid hug his phone,
Told a teacher,
Leave him alone,
Teacher said watch your tone,
Kid is still there,
But the
Teacher is gone,
Taught for one
But I need three,
Got I wife at home,
I’d like to see,
Washed down,
with
Underpaid creativity,
If I say anything will
They suspend me?
Taught for one
But I need four,
Four more
Before I walk out the door,
Four more, Before I hit the floor.
Four more before the Lioness roars,
Four more before we lose our core,
Values and morality,
That allow you to be,
Who you see,
Inside your own creativity.
Taught for one,
and One is wayyyy
too many.
– Boxer
So many ideas that I could relate to. Thank you.
Loving the beat, the rhythm, the rhyme.
Boxer — Your voice is super strong and word play is wonderful. The teacher is a hero like no other. The line architecture really works to deliver the sense of racing and scrambling and always back to “too many” and the math that never adds up fair. Cool poem. Thank you, Susie
Boxer,
Is it okay if I call you “Beat Boxer” since you are putting down some excellent rhyme and rhythm in this excellent verse. I echo Susie’s comment about the structure replicating the scurrying teachers do all the time. That cell phone section has me wondering why the teacher is gone. Was that the teacher’s or admin’s decision. I know this is a serious poem, but I did giggle at your lines about your jeans being too tight!
Glenda, you are a strong force, and I am so glad you are hosting today. Love your unapologetic, straightforward words in every poem. To me, the second stanza reflects who you are the most:
“I do not think my small act too little
nor choose convenience over principle.
I will not comply in advance.”
When I sat at the computer half an hour ago, I didn’t want what was going to appear on a blank page. Looks like I am still in my pattern. Here is my response to Musk:
last week
i taught the art of words —
how a voice can shape a story,
how dialects carry our roots and dreams.
i told old tales from my own classrooms,
stories of challenges and little darings,
to spark a fire in future teachers’ hearts.
i shared secret maps —
how to weather a classroom storm,
how a simple smile can steady anxious breaths.
i honored a rising star,
pressed a letter into her hands,
and whispered, you’re ready you’ll be great
i stayed steady in my work,
trusting the seeds i planted would grow,
and yet—
i came home each night
to watch two worlds i love
crumble in careless hands.
one — the soil of my birth —
bleeding unseen across newsfeeds,
forgotten by those too tired to care.
the other — the shelter i built —
shuddering with anger and division,
its promise wearing thinner by day.
and still i carry them both with me
Leilya, this was great! I love how you highlight the affirmation and education of your students as a radical act as well as an act of love. It truly is!
There is no escaping being an informed citizen so I can be a responsible teacher and letting the national events impact my world and my thinking. I’m not supposed to be political in my teaching, but people are political. We ultimately teach ourselves. I try hard not to give my opinion, but I welcome letting the students discuss theirs.
I loved the power in your poem, especially “the shelter i built —
shuddering with anger and division,” and the play on words between shuddering and shuttering.
Ups, in my explanation note, it should be “I didn’t know what was going to appear ” My thoughts were competing inside of my head
Oh, Leilya, when you shift to the ending stanza, my heart breaks for you. I fervently pray this war ends soon. Your guidance as a teacher is surely amazing. I wished I had been so blessed to have you as an instructor. I love how you show your ability to inspire your future teachers’ hearts, and I completely understand the dichotomy between loving your job and then facing a troubling world every evening. Hugs and prayers!
Leilya — You are not alone. Despite the hard work, we still come home to face the crushing blows of what is happening all around us. Your poem really weighs on my heart. I have the Ukraine flag here in my house, and I stood staring at it this morning feeling like the U.S. has disgraced itself so badly that the children across the globe will never ever look to an American for help, and that makes me feel so broken, so betrayed by the miserable fools in charge. Know that you are not alone. Hugs, Susie
Leilya,
Seems to me all teachers live two lives, the one you feature so beautifully in your first verse, and the one we face at home as we reenter the world at the end of the day. I promise you, my friend, I think about your homeland every day. Hugs.
Glenda-
I appreciate all of the mentor poems that you posted today and the link to the Musk responses. We need all of the fortitude and support that we can muster these days and your conviction and activism is appreciated! I really like how you tether your poem to the “do not comply” statements that evolve through the stanzas. Thanks Glenda!
Last week
Last week I tripped
and fell into the chasm
between what is and
what should be…
Last week I passed
a “Fight Fight Fight” flag,
an “FJB” and a “Say No to the Ho” flag,
an “I voted for the felon” flag,
and a three part harmony
Gadsden/Confederate/American flag,
before parking in the shadow of an “F___
Your Feelings” flag next to the Middle School
I was observing at.
Last week I comforted my student
whose friend was deported,
read white house social media posts
about who was deported,
tried to convince my wife
she won’t be deported,
and shared Easter dinner with “family”
who were happy
to see people deported.
Last week every second felt like a month,
and every day felt like a second
as we counted the minutes to see
if the insurrection act would be
invoked and it wasn;t and we exhaled
but felt years older.
Dave,
Oy. Those second and third stanzas. I felt the weight of your words with every line. And I hope that things with your wife…are ok? Stay ok? I don’t even know what to say, it’s so awful. This, however, was a terrific poem. <3
Thanks Wendy! She should be fine–newly naturalized–but with all of the shenanigans, who knows?!?!
Dave, that final stanza made me pause and take a breath. I don’t know how much more this country can withstand. Many things you witnesses, heard, or read resonate with me daily. Thank you for your words!
I keep waiting for the Constitution to take over, and the cowards are afraid to invoke it.
Dave, oof, you have had a week. The painful details of all the hate you pass by and the way you have tried to comfort both student and wife is incredibly moving. I can understand feeling much older in a very short time. Thanks for sharing such a compelling and powerful poem! (I agree with everything Wendy said, too, it is just so awful. Hope you will stay ok.)
Yeah, it’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Every week, every day there’s something new and distressing. We’ll be spending quite a bit of time, I fear, in “the chasm / between what is and / what should be.” Thank you for articulating this so well, Dave!
Oh my god, Dave, this is just a brutal description of the broken world we are in. Those flags — I wrote about those flags last year after a trip through south Missouri — OMG, what a horrible dose of cruelty and ignorance and hate that was. And the kicker of “family”/who were happy/to see people deported.” How on earth can you stand it? I know I know I know. My family is t-boned by this horror as well. The last stanza hit home hard for me…time is being warped and which end is up is uncertain every frikkin’ day. Keep breathing. Thank you for this poem. Susie
Dave,
Hug your wife for me. Those awful flags make me ill. My sister and her cretin husband have flags they use in boat parades. It’s disgusting, so these lines hit a chord:
“shared Easter dinner with “family”
who were happy
to see people deported.”
I’d never forgive family for saying that. The news about your student’s friend’s deportation is soul-crushing. I think of that Shakespeare line “The evil that men do lives after them” from Julius Caesar. I hope history gets this period right.
Dave,
The weight of it all is unbearable.
Glenda, this…is HILARIOUS. I didn’t know this was a thing…and now I have to “email Elon.” XD
I AM proud to say that I’ve been at every possible protest I could be at lately — including in front of Tesla and the Hands Off protests. XD. (I missed last week’s though because I was sick…so can’t say I protested last week, lol).
Big one coming up on May 1st for those who haven’t heard yet!
I took this in a slightly different direction.
Ode to Melania
I wonder what Don’s wife is doing.
Sitting home? Quietly stewing?
Shopping out in the Florida sun?
Canoodling a new someone?
Wondering how she got into this mess?
Doggedly trying to be best?
How does she face friends who think
our country’s on a ruinous brink?
How does she face anyone
Without the urge to turn tail, run?
Can you imagine what they’d say
If Obama’s family ran this way?
Wife apart, some other state?
Poor Fox News would be irate
Burst a vessel in their heads
Spewing about separate beds.
Well
They say that money can’t buy peace –
If I were her, I’d demand release
Flee from hubby’s schizophrenia
And head back home
To Slovenia.
Wendy, your final stanza says it all! I smiled reading “Flee from hubby’s schizophrenia
And head back home
To Slovenia”
The rhyming hyperbolizes your closing statement! Just perfect!
Wendy, your poem asks the questions we all want answers to. I never understood how she could be with such a disgusting human, but then I guess some people will do anything for money and power. UGH! Your poem perfectly illustrates the dichotomy of our country right now.
Wendy, your poem is brilliant. Yes, what does Melania think. She has to see all the different details about his Epstein connections, etc. etc. Wouldn’t it be ironic if she was deported? Your poem’s questions are provocative? I often wonder how some people survive the aftermath of a child’s or spouse’s abusive behaviors. The Fox News bit was especially funny! Thanks for sharing this delightful poem!
Wendy — LOVE that you’re out there protesting, marching. I’ve been to one march this spring…I am gearing up to participate again. Your look at Melania…humorous…I wonder the same things myself. The hypocrisy of all of it blows me away. Hang in there. Susie
Wendy,
. Love the question format. I’m so jealous I didn’t write this poem. Glad Susie saw it. Scott needs to read it, too. He’ll love it. Honestly, Melania is a soulless, craven POS, too. She has enabled Orangey all along. I don’t think she spends much time in Florida. She’s in NYC w/ her side piece and son.
That ending and the rhyme made me
Glenda, as Dave Barry would say…”Side Piece” is a great name for a rock band! XD
Last week I taught about life experiences.
Some of them etic
Some of them emic,
Explaining how genetic is observed
And pandemic is experienced.
Last week I introduced the moral dilemma
Of recreating an animal gone for 10000 years,
In the name of bringing back species
obliterated by humans–
But not recreating passenger pigeons.
Last week I questioned the hypocrisy
Of calling seven rich women,
Who went for a subsidized eleven minute joyride,
Historic and pioneers and inspirational–
When there was no science or even piloting involved.
Last week I reached out to a homeless student
Who takes care of his sick grandparents
So he has a place to stay.
But has no one to take care of him–
I worried when he was elected Student Body President.
Last week I comforted a student who
Had four members of her Latin Student Organization
Suddenly move away,
Threatened by ICE,
Even though they were here legally.
This week I reconsider my life experiences,
Trying to understand etically
But living emically
Worrying at how teaching is observed
And grieving at how teaching is too often experienced.
Kelley, this was beautiful. Those last two lines!
Thank you.
Kelley, it seems like we took the same direction to underscore what we did in the classroom and the what we witnessed on a larger scale. Dave’s poem has a similar encounter with a student. Our lives seem to be interconnected more than we think. Your closing two lines reflect my thoughts too. Thank you for writing and sharing!
You are welcome. Thank you for yours as well.
Kelley, what a beautiful poem and sentiment. The stanza about the space “ride” resonated with me because I was outraged that Gail was “disappointed” with the reaction of the American people to the joyride. Nothing is inspiring about these women.
Thank you. Agreed. Someone needs to define pioneering, historic, and inspirational to them.
Kelley — My heart goes out to. you as you work with frightened students “threatened by ICE”…ICE has become legal profiling…nazi usa. Geez. All your kids need you, need your wisdom, your compassion, and your poem! Thank you. Susie
I’m more worried today. Two of my Latina students didn’t show today. Now they can’t even be absent without me worrying about them being picked up by ICE, even though they have legal permits to be here.
Kelley,
This hits hard, especially the verse about your student and the occupying force, which is how I see ICE. Each moment you shared is a stand alone poem in my mind, all worthy of deep, heartfelt consideration, so I know my words are inadequate in expressing how important your writing is, how the work you’re doing does matter. I’ve thought a lot about adjustments I’d have to make if I were still teaching full time. I’m glad you pushed back on the genetics wolf story (gray wolf, not a white wolf wolf), and I admit I’ve found joy in watching Katy Perry get dragged after the penis-shaped rocket joyride.
The dire wolf/gray wolf hybrid is just an attempt to appease Game of Thrones fans, in my opinion. If they were really trying to bring back human caused species extinctions, they’d have brought back some of the recent losses in the last 200 years, not one whose extinction was caused by glaciers retreating.
Kelley,
Thank you for sharing the many issues that you grappled with last week. It is hard to be a teacher. I’m glad that your students have such a caring and thoughtful teacher, but I hate that more and more of our students are having to deal with homelessness and ICE. No one should have to deal with that.
Agreed. I can try to avoid politics in the class, but it comes in whether I introduce it or not. I showed my poem to my homeless student. I wanted to be accountable for using his story. He didn’t mind. I do wonder if his school is doing him any favors by making him next year’s SB President. (The kids at my school come from all five high schools in the district.) On one hand, it will be good affirmation for him for how needed he is. But it doesn’t give him the nurturing he needs. He’s got me and the Psych teacher and the Anatomy teacher all doing our best to be there for him . . . but we aren’t his moms, or even his grandmas. I had two of my Latinas missing today, and while it probably means nothing, I’m afraid it might mean something.
Good Morning, Glenda. Thanks for the prompt, as many of us take on a spiritual matrix, swirling the bad energy to the side in order to make room for the good. Love the spirit of your resistance poem & the challenge you set for all of us. I simply went with a check list of affirmatives going forth this Monday after a long weekend (where most schools were on spring break and confirmations were lacking). All is good now.
Monday Morning
b.r.crandall
Okay, Jerry,
it’s crafted.
You vs. K
& the reunion
tour in southern
Connecticut,
two weeks after
Torrey brings
his HANDS
along the sound
once again.
Poetry cafés
autographs
school visits
bookstores
dinners
possibilities.
a celebration of
teaching & teachers
programmed with love
for another
passionate generation.
Ubuntu is ready
for July with
teacher institutes,
literacy labs
& actions that
speaking louder
than words.
We see bravery
& belonging on
the horizon, too,
ready to welcome
fellow nobodies.
All of us staying
tuned to what
comes next.
Bryan,
I loved the hopeful vibe of this.
Thank you for what you do and for the hope so much needed. I am in love with these words:
“We see bravery
& belonging on
the horizon, too,
ready to welcome
fellow nobodies.”
I need to chat with you about NWP sometime this summer. My Department Head wants me to help a newly hired person to re-establish Southeastern’s site, and I don’t quite know where to start.
Bryan, your poem shines with passion of sharing the torch of teaching. I hang on the line programmed with love. I wish everything could be that way. The other line that sings to me is ready to welcome. The proactive anticipation of greeting others is strong and hopeful.
Bryan,
Writing the joyful happenings is an act of resistance. I know you believe that, too! My own observations and your words give me renewed hope:
“We see bravery
& belonging on
the horizon, too,”
Your poem is a little slice of life on a Monday, and that’s the way to roll these days.
Last Week
Last week I balanced on the narrow edge between teen angst
and toddler, searching for a response better than “I don’t wanna”
or “no.” Emails and texts and zooms and time wasters
and the endless drone of negative news. While I have turned
off the TV and disengaged from social media and politics,
the ramifications of the acts of petty tyrants and wanna be power brokers
ripple through institutions—education, health care, foreign aid, democracy—
ideals that once defined a country sold at auction, tarnished and dismissed,
and so I balance on the edge of a temper tantrum
I protest, I write, I teach, I do the things an adult does…but,
the veneer is thin, the anger is real, the need to slam a door (multiple, actually)
or throw myself on the floor, kicking, yelling, pounding grows and grows
Last week, I lost students—who can afford to teach now? I lost grants.
I lost family to the endless barrage of fake facts and zones flooded with drama
I lost time to emails, to meetings, to clutter designed to make it seem as though
things are getting done. Last week I balanced on the narrow edge between teen angst
and toddler, searching for a response better than “I don’t wanna”
or “no.” Last week I decided that this week would be different.
This morning, I had coffee with friends, laughing over the funny names
for the different offerings at Bad Ass coffee, explaining again how, for me,
coffee really means something flavored that covers the taste, it can’t be too “coffee forward”
and this morning I played with a friend’s baby and talked to three students
about their poems and this morning I smiled at a note left on my door about a book
a student read and this morning I counted the three succulents that survived
their year with me as a win and this morning, I tucked away my inner teen and toddler
and looked for hope and joy and wrote a poem
Oh, Melanie, you’re channeling my experience: “Last week… / I lost time to emails, to meetings, to clutter designed to make it seem as though / things are getting done. This morning, I had coffee with friends.” My coffee date isn’t until tomorrow, but thanks for the reminder of how important it is to purposely counter the designed clutter. I once read a psychologist’s suggestion that the best antidote to overwork and stress is not to take things off the calendar but to add the right kinds of things. Here’s to funny-named coffees. Oh, and thanks for the reminder to go water my (no joke) “three succulents that survived”!
Thank you. It helps that I am not the only one feeling frustrated and looking for connection. I love collecting strange names for coffee combos (as my coffee can’t taste like coffee). Bad Ass had a flavor last week called Rasberry Reef with white chocolate and rasberry and chocolate and a little coffee.
Melanie,
Man could I relate to this poem. Loved how packed with rich detail it was. And I loved the refrain that presaged a shift in tone. Great poem.
Thank you so much! I appreciate your comments!
Sh’Zaam! All of this.
I protest, I write, I teach, I do the things an adult does…but,
The inner teen and inner todler keep an inner bitch company and there are days when the struggle not to yell at the inequities being made worse is so, so, so hard.
Melanie,
If I were teaching your poem, I’d ask students to pick the word that really stands out to them, and I know they’d choose “balance.” I’d ask the students to explain how the poem illuminated “balance,” and they would identify the tone shift moving from anger and frustration to joy and “tucking away the inner toddler.” I’m so glad you wrote this poem and ended on this note:
“I tucked away my inner teen and toddler
and looked for hope and joy and wrote a poem” That’s beautiful.
Thank you for the lovely comments! I appreciate your ideas about teaching it!
Melanie, you have so clearly and perfectly stated all that I am feeling. And yes, it makes perfect sense now where I am stuck (between teen angst slam a door and toddler tantrum) vacillating between ‘no’ and ‘I don’t wanna.’ I keep pushing for those better weeks (it would be oh, so helpful if others were doing the same). I’m glad your week was better, your plants survived, and students and babies uplifted you. There is joy and hope (a lot of it found here).
Hi Glenda, thanks for the great prompt. This poem is an idea I have been working on for some time. I am not thrilled with it totally yet. But it’s a start! I also started a poem about other things I did last week too!
What did I do Last Week?
Last week I did the same thing I do every spring:
Search for the moment that spring ends and the trees unfurl their leaves into summer beauty.
As if it’s a singular moment I can catch,
Like the Big Bang.
An explosion from a pinpoint of a bud into a green mass of stars fluttering on the branches.
I always watch, and wait, eyes alert. I search, as though I am fulfilling some unspoken destiny.
But then, it happens overnight. As if to remind me how quickly time moves.
M. Becker
Mona! I loved this. That last stanza was just beautiful!
Mona,
This is a lovely poem. I see you taking your responsibility of observing changing seasons seriously, as we all should. Our survival depends on it. ”I am fulfilling some unspoken destiny” is the line that’s pure gold. Your final line is downright Emerson-like. It’s connected to “When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer” and countless Mary Oliver poems. Well done!
Mona, what a lovely poem. Suddenly, spring is alive in blooms and riotous green, lavenders, and new birds. I so appreciate the “Big Bang” line. Gorgeous poem!
Hi Glenda! Love prompts inspired by current events and when I saw a few articles, fbook posts making fun of the Musk question, it was definitely amusing. I like your slight change in wording of not complying in advance – it adds to the severity of your tone throughout.
“Not” Thinking About Work…
I did not think about work at all on vacation
Except when I laugh reacted to one of my
students messaging me randomly saying
“hey miss keep on slaying yr a real sigma”
I did not think about work at all on vacation
Except when I saw a “MOOD” sign and
thought of a student from Kuwait who told me
“your a whole mood istg”
I did not think about work at all in vacation
Except when I fell for the fourth time,
finally spraining my ankle and thought
about a student from Bangladesh who
carried my crutches up the stairs while
I jumped up the steps after tearing
three ligaments in my ankle
I think of him every time I think about
that injury and the school with four floors
but no elevator.
No, I did not think about work at all on vacation
Except when I wrote this poem and thought
about all the times I thought about my students.
These unique individuals
I have the pleasure of
knowing all around the world
were / are part of my “work”
thinking about them is part of my “work” sometimes the double edged sword of teaching.
They stay with you, on your mind,
even when you want to take a break,
you still think about them.
I did not have to think about work at all on vacation
but of course I did.
Angie, I am back from a week off and totally relate to your poem. As hard as we try to not think about our students on break, they creep into our memories. I hear their voices in my dreams. I am wondering how long I will think about them when I retire this year?
This speaks so much truth about the profession…there is no non-working days when young people are always on our minds…there is occasional moments/glimmers of extra space to think about all the work needing to be done. I am so glad you wrote this poem.
Angie,
! Love the litotes in “I did not think about work…” followed by all you dudes think about. Perfect dialogue that gives us insight into your relationships w/ students. This line is wonderful:
Every word is
”hey miss keep on slaying yr a real sigma”” This is a poem that gets st the heart of teaching. There really is no escape from thinking about our students.
I spoke my poem into my notes app while on a walk. It’s rough but true.
I want to put beauty into the world
But sometimes the world isn’t beautiful.
There are those days when my mother forgets my name
when his mother falls
when the dog gets out and runs and runs and runs
these kinds of days exhaust me
they take away the time of Joy and suffocate them.
I want to believe in beauty
the songbirds of spring
in the joyful singing of a young child
in the storybook with all the illustrations
bouncing from the page
help me, dear Lord to focus on the beauty,
and accept the things
I cannot change
A creative testament of real life, I also want to believe in beauty. very inspiring!
I love that you spoke this into notes while on a walk. That is a beautiful use of tech. I love how your title combines with the first line of your poem. I totally understand the second and third lines with my grandmother. And “the storybook with all the illustrations” yes, if only that were always life
thanks for sharing your lovely poem, Margaret.
I need to speak this second stanza all day today. I wasn’t ready to return from spring break. I have so many things to do in 34 days and it just feels impossible. Thank you, Margaret.
Amen. This is so true. I’m feeling a bit down after writing my poem, but you reminded me of why I keep trying in your second verse. Thank you.
Margaret,
The prayerful tone here is perfect and speaking a poem into the notes app is a revelatory act. It gives both a sense of immediacy and authenticity to the poem, and I really like that. I also love the contrasts between the first and second verses. Lovely poem.
Margaret, I like this version of a serenity prayer. You show the challenge in your first stanza and how the joy gets taken, and then ask for the ability to focus on what is beautiful. song, story, art, and prayer. Those are great places to set the mind – – and writing beautiful poetry like this.
I also am focused on teaching and learning, rather than politics. Thank you for the prompt, Glenda. I think it’s an important one. No matter what government leaders do. I choose to focus on the One leader who matters.
This Morning
This morning, I opened car doors,
greeted every parent,
every sleepy child,
welcomed them with a hello –
“Great to see you!”
This morning, I smiled
and laughed with children,
gave them encouraging hugs,
cheered them on,
made myself happy.
This morning, I sipped coffee,
greeted weary teachers,
volunteered to help,
take on more responsibilities,
made myself useful.
This morning, spring has come,
flowers are in full bloom,
summer is on the horizon,
my heart full of hope,
I am grateful for this morning.
the poetic fashion of a teacher. I hope that karma blesses you for all the light/life you shine with everyone encounter.
I love this poem of positivity, Joanne. I’m lingering on “made myself useful”. I love feeling useful – it gives me purpose. Sometimes I might do too much but if I can, I will. Thank you for sharing a day in your grind!
I love the intentional connections you built here between your actions and putting beauty into the world. I love the multiple lines about how you greeted kids and how you greeted teachers.
I knew I needed to read poetry this morning before starting my first day back from spring break. This is so encouraging and beautiful.
thank you for helping me start my day with hope.
Joanne,
How we greet students matters so much, and your poetic reminder of that is a balm to “weary teachers.” While you greet students at drop off, that, of course, is untenable for high school teachers who don’t want to endanger their lives in the student parking lot! So I stood in the hall and welcomed students almost every period of my career, and I’ve tried to continue doing that as a sub. One thing Ive always believed is the business of teaching is political. It may not be as evident in elementary schools, but it’s very apparent in high school, especially given what is happening w/ curriculum, the Dept of Education, book bans, etc.
Thank you, Joanne, for this breath of fresh air!! I needed to be reminded how much a positive outlook helps!
Glenda,
thanks for hosting and prompting us to reflect on how we can continue to live our values even when our national and state leaders behave horribly. I decided to focus on my students.
——————————————————
Young Women Leaders
Last week my seventh graders
posted sticky note affirmations
shouted out acts of friendship
led mindfulness
apologized for rude behavior
spoke out at the school board meeting
about the unjust removal of our beloved principal
gave grows and glows on each other’s work
pledged to listen better
What wonderful acts of leadership!
I work in a private school for girls – so it’s great to hear how 7th grade girls are leading the way!
Sharon,
Love this! There’s so much affirmation and positivity in this chronicle of the 7th grade week. What a week of learning about citizenship and how to be a caring and considerate human.
Don’t you love young women leaders? I am reading Marcie Atkins’ new verse novel about the youngest woman suffrage, One Step Forward. I think it’s a great book to share with girls who are passionate about justice.
AWESOME. The big and small. What great students and they’re lucky to have you!
Sharon,
Those girls are our hope for a better future, and with your guidance, they are learning to be the kind of humans we need. They will be the watchers like the civil servants we see now. I’m so sorry about your principal and love that the middle school students are advocating for their leader.
I love it. I’m so glad they get it. You led them first.
You’re building leaders! That is such a feeling of hope here in these lines.
Glenda,
Thanks for the prompt. I wrote this poem and had been wanting to share it, but none of the prompts were close enough for me to possibly get away with it. The political nature of today’s prompt makes me feel like the time is right.
OUR REAL HEROES
The billionaires at my church make sure hot coffee is ready
in the Fellowship Hall
between services.
The billionaires at my church go out into the community
to provide communion,
to the shut-ins, and hospitalized.
The billionaires at my church make baked goods and meals,
for the families to eat
after a funeral service in the Sanctuary.
The billionaires at my church play gaga ball
with the middle school youth group
after the lesson.
The billionaires at my church help the children of the church
collect change to buy blankets
to send to Third World countries.
The billionaires at my church helped Jodi clear out her gutters in July,
taking a quick break in the heat
to have lemonade.
The billionaires at my church go to the laundromat bimonthly
to visit with the people there,
and feed their machines with quarters.
The billionaires at my church deliver Thanksgiving meals,
prepared in the kitchen,
and delivered regardless of the weather.
The billionaires at my church are such a part of our community
I question what we would ever do
without their altruistic love…
Rex — Isn’t that just a dandy poem. I love it. The sharp contrast between real heroes and b’s just nail where we are. The 1% is invisible where it counts. I have to send this to my cousin, as in TX he gets hammered with the b’s and all their nasty memememeonly power. Even at 80 years old, he took his anti-b sign on the metro, rode downtown Dallas and marched with the thousands a couple weeks ago. I was so proud. Thank you for saving this zinger of a poem. Susie
Rex,
Service and love are true wealth.
I liked the specificity of this stanza and they way the service led to a moment of community and rest as well as shared work.
Rex,
Your poem definitely fits the prompt. Like the civil servants, you are watching and naming what matters. Your repetition of “The billionaires at my church” tells us what real wealth is and what really matters in terms of both acquisition and altruism. I’m glad you like the prompt. I’ve worried about it since I linked it to the calendar. Thank the billionaires for doing the work Christ called us to do.
Rex, I can’t believe we really have billionaires in Keokuk, so I’m guessing you’re stating that the true wealth is what one gives through their generosity of effort. Altruistic love is surely impactful, and I love the various ways you illustrate the ways the billionaires in your church keep making a difference.
Glenda, thank God for you and all who hold as much determination to see this through. I can’t imagine where we’d be without those resisting. Somehow, this prompt led me to…who knows where or how I landed here. But it felt fun to play around with it a bit, channeling some TS in the process.
Look What You Made Me Do (Last Week)
I won’t play games
Cuz I don’t like you
I called your lies out
One at a time (202)
Developed my resisting bitch face
(It was a sign)
I marched in streets, united
We’ve drawn the line
Cuz we are smarter
We’ll rise up once more
We do it all the time now
Tyranny is at the door
I don’t like your kingdom
It once belonged to us
You won’t like what’s to come
We’re beyond a let’s discuss
The world ain’t moving on
With you upon a throne
Let he who has not sinned
Cast the first and final stone
Look what you made me do
What you just made me do
(Last week)
Ahh, Jennifer — I love the whole take on “made me do”…great way to frame this poem. Your voice is so clear and so terrific here. My favorite lines, although it was hard to choose because the whole poem resonated so deeply for me, “you won’t like what’s to come/We’re beyond a let’s discuss.” We are a community that cares so much…I totally love that you and Glenda and the whole bunch are here. Decent, hardworking, wonderful, smart, and outraged teachers. (I love that “bitch face”…I can’t even imagine actually.) Amen for you and your writing! Love, Susie
Jennifer,
I’m here for “made me do” because if we’re not doing, we’re giving in to the “kingdom” as it is these days. I’m here for “Developed my resisting bitch face,” which I’m gonna need when I return from an upcoming trip and reenter. I love that you are marching, that I have friends fighting the good fight with, as Susie mentions about your poem, “clarity.” This is a call to action. Love it.
Love the repetition of the lines–look what you made me do. I appreciate the reactions that you had and the way you described them I loved “We’re beyond a let’s discuss.”
My goodness, Jennifer, I love your activism in this poem, especially, “We’re beyond a let’s discuss.” Thanks for putting yourself out there on the marching lines!
“Resisting bitch face.” BOOM. I’m holding onto this line (as my youngest son once told my crabby neighbor, “You and I have that resting bitch face thing going on…every one assumes we’re always angry). Love this.
Jennifer, wow, I love your poem, especially the lines: “Developed my resisting bitch face
(It was a sign)”. Your striking voice and powerful words are inspiring, and I love how you structured your poem! Yes, I agree, “We’re beyond a let’s discuss”. Fantastic poem! You go, Girl!
Love love love resisting bitch face. Maybe that’s where my 11 lines came from … thanks for sharing this, and love the peppy rhythm.
more
So what did I do last week?
It all.
“How does she do it all?”
Because if I didn’t,
you’d be saying
I didn’t do enough.
I pay someone to tell me
“I’m doing enough.”
Because the one paying me
is always demanding more.
So what did I do last week?
Enough.
You win the day with enough! That’s my OLW this year, and your poem is just what I feel. Each line is humorous and truthful to the bone. I don’t want to do it all anymore – – just enough. There is far more to be content about with enough and not all. Standing ovation over here for you today.
Enough was once my OLW and I still have the bracelet with the word and wear it when I need to hear this message. Yes! You are enough!
This is really clever. Of you’re you “did it all” and of course you did “Enough.” As educators, the gut punch is in
“the one paying me
is always demanding more.”
Well played!
Fantastic!
Yep, yep, and more yep to this! I agree with this entirely. I wonder if I could get one of my kids to tell me (remind me) that I’m doing enough (without pay–ha!). So well-written!
Glenda, the responses are hilarious. Thank you for hosting us today with a perfect prompt for a Monday after a busy weekend. I think I like the response that tells what someone didn’t do best of all. I’m fashioning mine just like that, counting down to the most important.
Sacrifices I Made Last Week
I didn’t have chocolate (I gave it up for Lent).
I didn’t have coffee (same as above).
I didn’t buy the shoes (I might this week).
I didn’t get mean (I might do that this week, too).
I gave the heart of my days to my work when I could have
tended the plants
stitched a quilt
napped in the hammock
walked the dogs
shopped for shoes
read books all day
written books all day
strolled Gibbs Gardens
tanned on the beach
sipped a latte at Starbucks
visited grandchildren
birdwatched on my favorite mountain
planned a trip in the camper
polished houseplants
played solitaire all day
binged on Netflix
taken a pottery class
accomplished Pinterest projects
painted furniture
written poems on the front porch
stayed home in my sweats and slippers
planned a writing retreat in Telluride, Colorado
…….but here I am, killing it.
Ooof. The contrast of “killing it” with hustle culture and all the beautiful peaceful things sacrificed. Thanks for sharing this list. Hoping for more hammock naps and hobby days soon.
Kim, after your stressful weekend I am glad you had this long list of gifts for your soul. I’m up early to get back to school and the slippery slide to the end of the year. When are you going to Colorado? Sounds perfect!
I totally misread your poem. “I gave my heart of my days to my work when I could have…” Sorry. You killed it! I was so hoping the list was what you did get to do.
Kim — Awww, “when I could have…” Indeed, “gave the heart of my days”…. you crafted this beautifully. And the ending line is just dandy. I laughed out loud at “polished houseplants”… HA…I think of doing that…never do that…just never quite fits in the “killin’ it” part. Wonderful poem. Susie
Kim,
I’m listening to the audiobook of Tiny Little Things and it fits your poem perfectly. There are catalogues of things we could have done and will never know what we missed regardless of our left out option. You are crushing it, and I need to know if you are “written books all day”
Im going to steal some items from your list. Heart you, my friend.
Thanks for making me think about what I want the “heart of [to]day” to be, Kim.
Kim, I love all of this…and you are killing it, poetically and spiritually.
Oh, my, Kim. Your poem is an absolute hoot! I love the catalog of all the things you could have done and didn’t do. Your final line is perfectly delivered, and I must admit, you are killing it! Fun, fun, fun!
Oh so many things to relate to in this poem today, Kim! Loved that you didn’t get mean but might this week. There are so many could have’s that are diverted by giving your heart to work. It’s a constant struggle, isn’t it? One I wish I could balance better but it’s what builds a life (I guess?! – see I’m still struggling). And a retreat in Telluride! Tellmemore!
I feel this—all the beautiful things we could do if we weren’t consumed by work.
Glenda,
I am in awe of your fire. I love this prompt with all of its options. I loved listening to Tom Paxton’s song and pondering the lies we perpetuate. I started a few drafts on different topics trying to be witty, but that tea it appears rarely.
Last Week
Last week
I came home to an empty house
and felt full
full of me
full of freedom to be me
and do what I wanted, be who I wanted
with no pressure to conform.
I sat on the couch
I watched Gilmore Girls
I ate a bowl full of granola
I snoozed
I read a few chapters
Last week
for three hours
I was unapologetically me.
I did what I wanted
thought what I wanted
with no tug or pull
to do something else
think something else
be someone else.
Last week
I sat with myself
and felt free.
~Susan Ahlbrand
21 April 2025
“For there hours” hit me! I have a prediction for a common theme in today’s poems … thanks for sharing and hoping for more free days and hours soon.
Susan, this!! This is what I want – – the time to live and enjoy life. To do what I want. I am standing in applause and counting the days until I can watch tv and eat granola too. I’m ready to live in sweats and jeans more and not have to get out and go anywhere unless I feel like it. You said it the way I want to live it.
Susan, Spring break! Time to sit with yourself and feel free. I get that. I wish I had had such a calm break. I had some small moments of no tug or pull. I’ll hold onto those as we return to school today.
Aah, Susan — Yes! This is a poem triumphant! It is so blasted rare that any educator has a “three hour” stretch to set her own course…good going and terrific voice! I wanted to write last night but was so tired when I finally sat still and scrolled the website that I went to bed and slept for 7 hours and 42 minutes…This morning I feel free. Hugs, Susie
Susan,
Thank you for your poem and its subtext about motherhood and being a woman. You don’t say it, but the expectations of us are soul-crushing sometimes. I’m living those expectations right now. Your use of parallel structures in
“no tug or pull
to do something else
think something else
be someone else.”
strikes a chord and is one of my favorite techniques in poetry. On another note: I just read about the Pope’s death and know this news hits you hard, My deepest condolences to you and your church family.
Thank you, Glenda. Pope Francis sure stood for impoverished and marginalized people. He brought love and acceptance into spaces and issues that often lacked it.
We all need the license to be ‘unapologetically’ who we are. I love the liberated purpose of YOU in this poem, especially the freedom you found. It is an inspiration for the rest of us.
Glenda, I love this prompt. My grief over what’s happening is sometimes overwhelming. That grief is compounded by division within my family. I’m not alone, I know. I like the repetition in your poem, “I will not comply in advance.” It’s important and reading it, gives me strength. Thank you for your courage and example as a teacher and citizen. I’m so glad to know you are writing and doting on a grandson.
Flew to a southern state
to spend time with a parent fighting cancer
Breathed in…breathed out.
Four more wake ups.
Made conversation with their second spouse
Breathed in…breathed out.
Three more wake ups.
Watched my parent take meds with bourbon.
Breathed in…breathed out.
Two more wake ups.
Jeopardy and the Wheel pre-gaming for Fox
Vitriol and snark…listened to the amen scoffs.
Breathed in…breathed out.
One more wake up.
Decided the blue jay in the bird bath is my new boyfriend.
Breathed in…breathed out.
Flew back home counting my blessings.
Breathed in…breathed out.
Linda, your poem resonates strongly with me. I have a parent fighting cancer, too, and it’s challenging to be there when living so far away. I like the way you count the wake ups and breathe…..and that the blue jay in the birdbath is your new boyfriend. Sometimes it’s easier to connect with animals and with nature than it is with people, and thank you for reminding us of this truth.
Oh Linda, This poem tells so much of the struggle with an aging parent with cancer, one you are not aligned with politically, but you still love deep in your heart. Your breathing helped you through. I love how the specificity of your list makes the poem universal.
Oh my god, Linda, thank heavens for this space where we can hold each other’s hands, albeit from a distance, as we witness our family here walk through the most impossible lives. I audibly choked up as I read your poem. Know that every breath you take makes my life better…all our lives better here in this space. I’m so glad you are here. Just knowing your parent is in dire straits and that you bear such a sad and difficult burden makes me lean into your ache. My family too has been broken, compounded by what is happening to our country. Makes me wonder how it is possible that we came from the same parents. Like you, I try (and your poem helps me do this) to “breathe in…breathe out.” Hugs and thank you, Susie
Linda,
”Breathe in
Breathe out”
is such an important thing to do w/ intention during hard times. I can’t imagine being forced to watch Fox w/ family or anyone else. They should have turned it off. Thank you for this remarkable poem, for taking us on your trip. Now take a real vacation. You e earned it.
My heart aches as I read this. It is familiar and painful. I loved how you talked about pre-faming for Fox as that is so often what I feel when I am at my family home. Fox is a sporting event. It consumes so much. Your refrain about breathing in and breathing out–so perfect.
Wow, this is so powerful. I feel it. Sometimes breathing in, be it squared or meditating, and breathing out is all we can do.
Meds with bourbon. Phew. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. The parenting parent phase is nothing anyone prepares any of us for. Love that you put such labor into today’s task.
Your poem reflects the need to breathe during times of challenge. Repeating that mantra brings great power to this. Your specific details bring the poem into immediacy. I’m sorry you’re juggling this . . .the trying to be there and the struggles while there.