Occupy* Posters

©  2005 by Stephen Ewen

Two classes have just begun,
The first ones of the term.
I watched as if from a distance,
But was inside both of them.

Hi, here is my first name.
I am not “Mister” “Teacher,” or “Sir.”
Calling me that makes me,
Just feel too darned old.

So let’s place our desks in a circle—
Yea, really.
Laughter,
Bewilderment.

I was thirty-whatever when I got a high school diploma.
Worked tons of shit-jobs before.
Mowed lawns, washed dishes, bussed tables,
Had bad jobs afterwards.

Been unemployed and near homeless.
At times I thought I was through.
My wife got cancer and things were really bad.
She was born in Bolivia.

It is here, check out this map.
I love maps.
Maybe you will,
Too.

We have three boys, each very different.
I’m middle-aged now, it kinda’ sucks.
Graduated highest in my class from college,
Just a few years back.

So why’d you drop out? a voice queries.
Well, school sucked, to me.
It felt like a freakin’ prison,
And it looked like one, too.

Even had barbwire,
All along the fences.
More laughter.
More bewilderment.

And what the heck was with class?
What is it about making people sit in rows?
And listen to someone yack at ya’,
For hours and months and years?

I mean what the heck is the point!?
I mean—
Still more laughter,
And then some cleansing tears.

Students compete to jump in now.
Me, I hated that place, too.
Me, I kept getting into trouble,
With Blah-Blah So-and-So.

Me, most of my teachers were assholes.
Me, I just always felt stuck.
Me, I was too hot and got pregnant.
Chuckle-chuckle.

Me, I fought, smoked.
Me, I skipped school too much.
Me, I’d rather not say.
Okay.

~

Next door another class is in session,
The desks align tightly in rows.
Each facing someone who is glaring,
From behind the front desk.

I am Blah-Blah So-and-So.
This is my class and you’d better know it.
You will do your work,
You will learn.

Silence.

This is your second chance.
You’ll probably mess this one up, too.
You gotta’ have a High School Diploma,
To get a good job.

More silence.

Me, I know what I am doing,
You don’t.
That’s why I am here,
Why you are here.

More silence still.
And some dry tears.

Here are the rules.
Don’t break them.

Time to take role.
Don’t be absent.

Here is the book.
Study it.
Start at page one.

Still more silence.

You there!
Stop talking!

And the silence,
The silence still.
And the shame,
The shame still.

Two classes have begun,
The first ones of the term.
I watched as if from within them,
And chose the first of them.