ASSIGNMENT: Write a poem about how you felt about working in The Care Center and how you feel about leaving The Care Center after 8 years. Good Luck.

- Adelaida G.

 

How I Feel About Working at The Care Center – How I Feel About Leaving

for Adelaida

 

Working here feels like knitting a scarf that is long enough to wrap around worlds

weaving it with words instead of knits and purls.

Working here feels like digging for diamonds

with pencils instead of picks.

Working here feels like opening doors

using poems as keys.

Working here feels like making sunshine

out of feelings: anger fear, disappointment, joy and hope.

Leaving here feels like breaking your pencil point right when you find the best word for your poem.

Leaving here feels like a poem in need of a new metaphor.

Like putting down a book right when you get to the juiciest part.

Leaving here is made easier, knowing I leave behind me

a line of poets, pregnant with stories, emotions and wise words

who will continue telling the story

long after I’m gone.

- Tzivia

 

ASSIGNMENT: Write an I Remember poem.

- Ericka

 

I Remember

for Ericka

 

I remember the smells of hand cream being applied during class

and the smell of pizza for lunch.

I remember the day a student discovered the rings of Saturn

circling her eyes.

I remember ‘goodbyes’ when students passed their GEDs

and tears at graduation – of happiness and pride.

I remember how one class renamed Poetry Class, Crying Class, and how we learned together the power in our emotions.

I remember the sounds of pencils on paper, the buzz of the sharpener, and requests for “More paper, Miss.”

I remember so many voices, each accented by honey or fire, by the timbre of chimes or drums.

I remember handwriting and lines from poems, even when I forget the student poets’ names.

I remember trying to break up a fight by yelling, “Ladies! Please!”

I remember new babies passed from hand to hand – our Care Center family growing.

I remember fashion critiques from students as I tried to interest them in metaphor or rhyme.

I remember the gray cat who used to crawl through the window during class.

I remember being called the Poetry Lady, The Happy Teacher, and Sylvia, and Miss.

I remember Hypatia and Religion class and Intro to Criminal Justice – two and a half times!

I remember yelling at a student for being late. She apologized, and never told me it was because her boyfriend was arrested that morning as he was driving her to school – and she had to walk the rest of the way.

I remember laughing so hard with a group of students one day that I had to sit on the floor.

I remember the sounds of students and teachers huffing, sighing and complaining, “Dios Mio,” as they climbed the last step to the third floor … just outside my office door.

I remember Selenia standing in the doorway of her office, proud and beautiful – a mother and grandmother to us all.

I remember every teacher who passed through and most of the students, too.

I remember a young woman coming to The Care Center shy and unsure, then blossoming day by day. I remember her standing up to read her poems in spite of her tears. I remember her coming to school wearing a medal one day. It was for rowing, but it could have been for just about anything.

 

- Tzivia