Poem: Ad hoc

If it gives me joy to see students voluntarily signing up for National Novel Writing Month (for young writers),

to see them drafting their stories during break,

If I’m comfortable being awkward and dramatic about my writing pet-peeves,

as I often shout, “NooOOOooO,” “WhaaaAAt~,” (with an occasional “Brilliant!!”)

If I’m comfortable waving my hands and arms like an Italian to explain myself,

If I love opening my classroom doors in the morning with an enthusiastic, “Good morning!”

while kids walk in with bed-hair, sheepish expressions, and indifference,

If I love scanning the class for answers and responses, and I see them trying to avoid eye-contact,

looking down at their paper, or their pencil, looking at the wall, their neighbor, looking at their desk, anything but my glaring eyes,

If I love hearing a student say, “Bye, Ms. Chung~! Have a nice day!” every day when class is dismissed,

If I love hearing everyone laugh together during read-alouds,

and hearing students question each other’s logic and reasons,

If I love these things,

then maybe I’m good to be a teacher.

2 thoughts on “Poem: Ad hoc

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