Wednesday, November 5, 2008

In Moments Like These...

In moments like these I miss the classroom. I miss walking into the sea of open minds, curious hearts, impressionable souls. I miss the excitement of history and the moment of learning. I miss staying up writing my plans, and I miss trashing them cause my students were so much wiser than I ever imagined.

If...if I were to walk into my classroom this morning -- on this historic day -- I would be filled with hope, buzzed with excitement, and ready for change.

I would have passion. Passion that we are not were we need to be, but thank God we are not were we use to be. Passion that my children will not remember a day in which color determined your status -- a day in which bigotry and hatred were shoveled under by our integrity and love.

Oh, the excitement and hope on the horizon. With this poem, I would have begun our day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Still I Rise By Maya Angelo
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

5 comments:

feather k said...

I miss moments like these too in the classroom...

Dana and Daisy said...

we will be your students today CG.

I dreamed last night that I was preparing to teach pre-school. I freaked out and woke up in a wringing wet sweat.

Becky :) said...

I will always be your student, especially when you come out with lessons like these.

That and the step by step with your hair. :-)

Thank you for posting this.

Lindsay said...

I love this!! Thank you for modeling the truth, hope, love and tolerance. This is a historic day indeed!

The Kelso-Winter Family said...

beeeeyoootiful..nothing like maya angelou! history made and history to be made and we can ALL partake!