A Teacher Dreams
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Memories of a Teacher in High School. His patience and understanding did not come into play until I left School. To meet with him once again had me smiling for days.
He studied and sought dreams to become a teacher
Sometime his days and plans are torn to pieces
Leaving place of learning without a backward glance
Onward to a School of not his choosing.
Area described as working class
Teenage boys waited for their Teacher
Introduced himself, laughter erupted
Stood and approached his challengers
Passing through rows of desks
No heads turned as he passed them
The back row his final calling
He was amongst his ongoing problems
Softly spoken, choosing his words wisely
All now quiet within this Schoolroom
A group of boys in their last term
Would they be interested in his teachings?
His subject today, foreign Countries
The mysteries of the giant blackboard came into play
He occasionally turned, seeing looks of dismay
All lost in their working-class area
They watched; magical names flowed across the blackboard
The look on pupils’ faces was priceless
Describe a country and its people
An audible groan had him smiling within
Pencil sharpener having a workout
Lead giving up, pencil issue
Walking back and forth between the rows
Scribbling on paper was taking place before him
Heaven knows what the content would show
Two hours up, sighs filled the room
A bell signalled the finish of this day
On your marks, set, they waited for the words
Another day tomorrow
Classroom emptied in a flash
Some papers without a name, caused raising of eyebrows
Others had at least tried
As he read the scribbling, he felt sadness within
The descriptions showing their World had them captured
So sad to read dreams never to be realised
Thinking of his own, before reading on
Several times he sighed out loudly
Living alone, his dreams not yet realised
A troubled sleep beckoned
Entering the classroom, the following day, unusually quiet
He sat at his island, faces, unsure of the day before them
Today, I will comment on your offerings from yesterday
He realised, that the enemy in the back row were listening
What were they planning, would they start laughing?
With a shrug of his shoulders, he started a word flow
Finished reading each paper aloud
They all sat as if waiting for punishment
He continued to speak
His quiet voice never rubbishing their comments
The dreams of his imaginary enemies were a joy to read
High expectations from both, silently he wished them well
That bell rang, the room emptied slowly
Today he left for home, a wry smile on his lips
Another day, keeping thirty teenage boys interested
The enemy camp was softening to his methods
A non-confrontational action was happening
The term rolled by, all left with twinkles in their eye
The young teacher sat there reminiscing
Holidays beckoned as well as career changes
Holidays came and went, career path changes did not happen
The teacher went to a sporting event
He studied the names on the programme
Familiar names leapt out at him
The names of two back row boys, living their dreams
Local pub after the game, standing at the bar in silence
A tap on his shoulder by strangers
He turned, looking into eyes he had seen once before
Hello Mr James, thank you for all your efforts
Your teaching methods soothed anger within
We followed dreams that seemed beyond us
So here we are, fine young men
The teacher reached to shake their hands
A shake of their heads, they then hugged him
The teachers’ soul was on high, he realised
He had reached his dreams plateau.
Copyright © John A'Hern | Year Posted 2021
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