Express and Discover Yourself through the Magic and Power of Words
Let your Soul Sing for the World to Hear the Music Within You!
The power of your words will lift you to soar as the eagle.
Isn’t it Ironic?
Power, Power over others
Size, number, looks, position, authority.
Picking, insulting, threatening
Overt or covert it’s always happening.
The sly go unnoticed, to most,
Yet, not to all, not to the target.
Children to teens, even adults
Use power to demean.
A menace in schools.
We train, we counsel, we reprimand,
The guilty expelled.
We expect kids, bystanders to step up,
Defend the prey,
Not easy, yet that is the expectation for children.
Adults, do we practice what we preach?
Going against authority, power much harder.
Not many, if any, willing.
Silence speaks louder than words.
The victim alone, threads the murky waters.
In the face of bullying prevention,
We witness bullying’s ugly face,
Yet people pretend it’s okay,
As fear takes over, They did not “hear”.
The game continues. “What would you do if you witnessed this incident?”
Paper and pencil responses are candid and brave,
Yet, for me, you are cowardly,
For in the face of my attack, you looked the other way
Isn’t it ironic?
Time to Fly
I give you roots,
Know who you are,
Where you come from.
Recognize those that laid your foundation.
I give you wings,
The belief that you can do anything.
Expand those wings to your utmost capacity.
See what I only dream of today.
Do what time did not allow me to do.
Leave your mark,
Your determined footprint.
Do not be afraid.
Courage does not allow fear of the unknown
Keep us from trying unfamiliar scary things.
Fly high, fly with all your might.
I plant seeds, many seeds.
As a young seedling,
I planted, watered, feed and tended my gardens,
Gardens as big as the sea.
I learned what yields a good harvest.
Today, I nourish my garden plots with strong seed,
A seed that sprouts with everlasting curiosity.
I pour sweeter water with a patient hand.
I provide tender care,
A care that hungers and thirsts for knowledge.
These seedlings soak it up.
Yet, they question their earth.
My seeds run deep.
They grow strong, firm roots,
Some a little green, yet, they know their name.
They know and respect the roots that give them strength.
They will flourish like the mighty oak.
Long after my last season,
They will bloom with strong arms and a refreshing shade.
Countless will play, laugh, learn and fall in love under their protection.
I’ve planted seeds in a garden full of children,
Mi jardin de niños: where I would bend to care for them.
I nourished and grew little tender sprouts, even stubborn ones.
Seasons passed, my harvest grew.
Now, they bend their backs to give a grateful embrace.
Other seedlings germinate, the cycle continues.
I also taught big oaks, many set in their ways, needing a little pruning and straightening up.
I plant seeds, my seed I leave you.
The Compassionate Classroom
Let us search deep into our souls,
And seek to view all students as our own sons and daughters.
Once the gap caused by the differences in our hearts is closed,
Closing the achievement gap will not be such a struggle.
We, as educators, hold the keys to the shackles that bind.
Once freedom is reached through knowledge,
Our students can search and find their own voice,
And advocate for themselves, no matter how hostile
Or unwelcoming their environment.
Through self-confidence due to their new found freedom,
They will be strong and courageous enough to rise and stand on their own.