November 22, 2016

To Be Seen

I helped a boy try to find his way onto a football field. He was nervous and scared and lonely and unsure how to approach the alphas and their thirst for blood. He is a sensitive boy who just needs to be seen.

I spoke to a girl’s parents, telling them how much progress she has made. I had goosebumps praising her and she looked as if she were about to cry, as her eyes whispered thank you.

I taught a group of kids the basic principles of a semi-colon; it was late in the afternoon.

I commiserated with tired teachers. I read about empowered Nazis. I did not notice the sky or breathe in deep. I listened to Leonard Cohen. I jumped into a Facebook feed and was confused and perplexed and left without closure.

I watched the Walking Dead, drank one glass of red wine and revelled in the fact that the Raiders are 8-2.

I joked. I sighed. I reprimanded. I taught. I built. I destroyed.

It was one more day in a series of days.

And now sleep.

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