Our mark in passing

This is a poem I wrote while still in Public School about... well, public school. I was in my school's "gifted and talented" program yet recieved no guidance, counseling or consideration for the particular challenges that Gifted students face. The attitude was that of "You are Gifted, thus you should excel with minimal effort in all of your classes." Yeah, okay. I would if I wasn't so damn bored by the lack of challenge that I stop paying attention long enough to lose track of the lesson.

Our Mark In Passing December 5, 1989

Look at us, sitting in rows organized and lined up. Our seats identical. Only our faces and clothes are different and they can even make our clothes the same if they decide to. Eight times a day we go to the same places we were the day before. The teacher checks each day to be sure you're in the same seat you were in the day before. And to think, this place is supposed to teach us to be "well rounded individuals." Sure, we'll be well rounded, every corner will have been smoothed over, So that our rough edges will not catch, snag or irritate the Walls as we are processed through this building. Heaven forbid we make a mark on the instituion as we pass. "Say "thankyou" to all the teachers, even the ones you hate and say only happy things to the parents when you graduate, then smile and go away. Fit in with society the way we made you to fit, don't make waves, don't change things, or we will have failed in our attempt of programming you as we taught." But we will not come out as individuals, our rough edges and corners made us different, and so in smoothing them over they rub out and cover up our identities. All that lost so that the System can process us through without wearing out. Yet some of us are hard, like diamonds, we cannot be smoothed and the Walls bleed with change where we have been pushed through. The wound will heal but there will still be the scar, we will have made our mark in passing.

Spooky Poet

spookypoet@angelfire.com

Note: I had a habit of walking down the hallways with my hands "clawing" the painted cinderblock walls of my school well before I wrote this poem. It was a friend that pointed out the possible symbology of that after she read the poem.

This poem was "borrowed" from http://www.geocities.com/iamananka/

Written by: Spooky Poet
5 December 1989

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Posted by: Teacher Tyrant (sitcom_writer AT hotmail DOT com ) 5 December 2006

Comments: I've read a few of your pieces and think your a really talented writer. At my school their whole policy is "respect" but the teachers had better learn to give it, if they want to except it. I have to have "special help" too, but I'm not placed in an actual "Special" class. Just in math & Science is the classes I "majorly" struggle in. I would LOVE for you to E-mail me, so we can talk about our teachers & exchange advice. :) ¥Im a girl¥ --just so ya know...

Posted by: -Some Girl- 17 August 2006

Comments: Very nice, that is beautiful. I'm in a gifted class as well and this is how I feel a lot of the time, although I've only been in school for 2 days. My locker is far away from my classes, and I'm usually within a minute of being late, but I haven't yet been tardy. Although, it's ironic that the meanest teacher has the classroom farthest away from my locker. This is a breathtaking poem, but I'm off to do my homework... But don't worry, I haven't yet been smoothed. I mostly hide my creative talents in school, but I know they hold my future writing career and that I will always be an individual. Good luck to everyone who has ever disliked school at all...At least my parents are on my side. But, to get your morales back up, once my dad got some custom-ordered pencils for school that had the name of his town and the word petitentuary next to it, implying that that's where he was. It got sent to the prison instead , and when it finally got sent back to him, the order said "not an inmate"! Hehehe...

Posted by: GRIM (RATSKING77 AT YAHOO DOT COM ) 19 May 2006

Comments: I DONT GET WERE U GET UR LINES FROM BUT IT SUCKS!!!!!

Posted by: Sam (Bongitude AT yahoo DOT com ) 11 May 2006

Comments: This poem is just like how i feel everyday i go to that prison

Posted by: lifeischeese 2 March 2006

Comments: shared it with my LA class today...wel find out what the teacher thought about it...

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