My day was going to be a long one--
no one said student teaching would be easy.
My hands were sweaty before the first bell rang
and started to dry up a little by second class.
I was prepared as as my lesson plan; most of the students,
however, wanted to play was as their wont so teacher would read to them.
That did not work and I walked around the room as I taught, looking at
everyone's shoes as I passed by.
From second class to last class, everyone got playtime,
a spelling bee, a punctuation test and conjugation of verbs.
As I wandered through the sixth class, one particular girl would
not take her eyes off me and she wrote down everything I said.
I asked questions and no one raised a hand except this girl, wearing
probably her best dress with old sandals I could tell had been handed down.
I even noted her shoes were old and had probably been passed down by a sister.
She was always first in her chair, pencil and book ready as I stepped into the room.
I could not feed her enough, she devoured the lesson plan and sat begging for more.
I've remembered that girl all these years because I knew from her background
she would never go further than graduating from highschool and then be expected
to get married, have babies and feed her tired and hungry husband.
I will never forget that lost look on her face; I also knew she
would never leave that town.