Parent -Teacher Poem

After 4 hours, I've seen parents of 43 kids.

But I can only write between meeting, so now it's four hours, and ten minutes and 45 kids.

Can I admit that I love this day? Maybe here. Maybe not to colleagues.

Do you ever wonder what's most important in life?

Every time I make someone feel good about their child/their self I am grateful.

Five hours, ten minutes, fifty two meetings.

Great news: For a Sunday I'm unusually up: I like the structure.

Humanity: (call me crazy, but I believe it's) crucial for humans to maintain.

Insecurity is a sometimes synonym for yetzer harah.

Just belonging can be enough to make you happy.

Knowing why you do what you is important: For what reason am I, is anyone, a teacher?

Let me tell you that grades given by teachers should not be the most important thing in life.

Much good can come out of cliche'd words said with original care,like, "How are you?"

"Nice" lost its meaning about forty years ago; we need to use "kind," "brave," genuine," and other specific adjectives as often as we can.

Other teachers, after six hours, just want to go home. I'm happy to be here.

People are people.

Questioning: I'm your biggest fan, but lately I question if we spend too much time together.

Right now it's 8:30 P.M, I'm home. The meetings that ended four hours ago still linger.

Seconds ago a kind student from the past called to suggest a kind woman for me to date.

Those "painted ponies..." - darn you Joni.

Unsure about so many things.

Viewpoint is key.

When?

X-ray vision is dangerous, in part because it is inaccurate.

Yesterday, today hovered, and now it's done, yet still hovering.

Zigzagging through the maze of life as best we can; we are humans.