"The Graduate," A Poetry Post

When you closed my school you told us money was the reason,

but worth became the people’s conversation.

The stigma that you pinned to me went with me when you

rezoned.

The teachers saw my records and

assumed that I would need

remediation.

My favorite teacher’s reputation died.

My friends and I were suspected of gang activity.

My prom date went to school up in the North.

My study group? Split up in three directions.

I had to catch three buses.

My mother had to give me a house key.

And when I graduated,

I wasn’t sure which school to represent,

so I created in my mind the kind of place where we could

coexist and

feel like nobody

lost

anything.

But I did,

and we did,

and you did.

We all lost something.

"The Teacher," A Poetry Post

I wanted to teach your kid to read, but I had a benchmark test to give.
I knew he couldn't pass the test because he couldn't read it.
I wanted to teach your kid to read, but I had test prep. reqs to meet.
I knew he wouldn't use the skills; his mind could not conceive them since I
couldn't teach your kid to read.

The school is gauged by test scores. 
And if he doesn't minimally pass we all might
lose our jobs so
we are slaves to primitive needs.

If I take the time to make him better,
I'll be scored poorly on my assessment,
and I'll never be able to teach
again.