The Best Reason
you are the one
whose picture I keep pinned
above my desk
for days that I wonder
why I do this
you were my best reason
for teaching
1999: new student
bruised arms, far too thin
you stood
in my classroom doorway
with your grandmother
holding her hand
after she left school
you had a complete meltdown
began breaking pencils
in triads with your bare hands
so many broken pencils
scattered across the floor
your speech was slurred
you had tell-tale tics
I wondered
about your story
learned your grandmother
was your angel
a savior who stepped
in and saved your life
because daddy was gone and
mama had beaten your ears
so severely with shoes
that you could barely hear
when I spoke
you tilted your head
at a sideways angle
to put your one able ear
in position to listen
you took most of your lunch
to your backpack
to share with your siblings
because
there wasn’t much
with six of you
I knew you were sharing
even hungry yourself
I started slipping in extras
for you to find later
you were a child
ahead of your years
knew things your peers did not
were the smartest student
in the class
Principal’s Honor Roll
the kid in Coke bottle glasses
who couldn’t hear
whose smile brought tears
and still does
when I look at that picture
of you and your grandma
smiling in the cafeteria
on Math Night
you are the best reason
that I kept teaching
Common Threads 