PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Someone once told me the grass is much greener on the other side. Well, I paid a visit.
And I
Seem to
Dislike it.

“I'll love you forever; I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living my baby you'll be.”
These words I heard all the time as I grew and grew as
My mom read me the words of that beloved book.
Lessons learned from the Berenstain Bears.
(Before I got to know
People.)
Be Nice. Play Fair. Treat Your Siblings Right.
An avid reader, picking up anything and everything in my path,
Since before I can even remember knowing how to read.

In elementary school, I became… CAPTIVE,
With the story of Mary Jemison, accidently never to return to the school shelf.
Little House on the Prairie became my Bible.
I wanted to be Laura, marry Almonzo, and have Rose…
This was not to be.
I left Laura behind as I delved into the world of witchcraft.

The Salem Witch trials.
I ate up every book that I could find about them.
Constantly, Constantly, Constantly,
Looking for facts that made sense, truths in the lies.
I read The Scarlet Letter and had nightmares for weeks about a demon child.
No more witch trials for me, at that point anyway.

I grew more and more recluse,
Pushing away the people I knew
Pulling towards the books I adored.
They gave comfort,
Warmth,
Love. The cruel world gave me
Nothing but
Misery.
I was drowning.
I wanted to be Emily Dickinson, not Emily Marshall.

Miss Dickinson, I loved her so.
She was my sister, my best friend.
She understood the misery
Brought upon us by other human beings.
She understood my pain
And my thoughts of death.
She understood.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione
They understood, too, as well as
The cats in the Warriors series.
They loved me as I loved them.
We shared our darkest secrets with one another
And laughed until the dawn.

I began to read more genres,
Though always admiring fantasy above the rest.
I explored biography and non-fiction,
Plays and poetry.
My friends weren’t very patient with me.

I read at every chance I got,
My books being my closest friends.
My real life friends angered quickly
When they would see a new book in my hand.
“Why aren’t you talking to us?”
“Why are you always reading?”
“Ugh, can’t you be social for once?”
No, I can’t, you wouldn’t understand.
My books are better than reality.
They are better than your side of life.
They are my friends.
I would drown
Without them.

As high school went on,
I had less time to be with my books
And spent more time on
Schoolwork, clubs, and people.

People. Hearing that word
Still makes me cringe.
“Nerd.” “Geek”
“Get off your high horse!”
I hate you all for making me miserable.
I hate you all for making me hate myself.
I hate you all for drowning my will to live.
I hate you most of all for making me confide in my books,
At least my books can’t hate me, too.

One day, I picked up
The Plague and The Stranger.
Those books were a major point
In my life as a reader.
Tough reads for a person who has trouble with words.
I related to The Stranger,
A stranger in his own skin, struggling with life.
Camus opened me up
To new pieces of literature.
He opened me up
To new ways of thinking.
I awoke to the sound of me drowning,
Trying to swim back to the surface.

College has shown me
That books are still my best friends.
I have learned to read
And take note of things
In a non-fiction text.
I have opened myself up
To the wonderful world of textbooks,
But of course, I am all
Business in the front, party in the back.

The business side:
I am slowly learning to make inferences
Based upon my readings.
I am learning to tell what information
Stands out and how it applies.
The party side:
Fanfiction is where the party is.
Exploring different ‘ships’
And finding an otp[1] are just two parts
Of this party that allows me to relax,
Back into the world of fiction and fun,
Back into the world of creative writing,
Back where I belong.

The Philadelphia Urban Seminar changed my life.
Our class read The Hunger Games,
What I thought to be the slowest pace possible.
I didn’t know these were dependent readers.
I didn’t know anything about them.
I didn’t know.
I learned that I want my classroom
To be diverse and I want to instill
The desire to read and love
Into the hearts of urban kids.
They need it most.

Books are my side of the grass,
The other side is
Scary,
Unfamiliar,
An obstacle I must face little by little.
Books have saved
And destroyed me.
They will not allow me to drown.
They will never abandon me.
Nor I them.

When asked
How could my past
Affect little
Old
Me?
I ponder.

How might my history affect my future?
My future of teaching?
Adjusting experiences?
Or repeating experiences?
When I am on my own,
In my own little classroom in my own little world.

I wish I could
Inspire my students,
Show them the value of people
AND books,
Teach kids that
Books understand.
Show them that they
Are not alone in the universe.
They are not the only sufferers.
They are not alone
As I felt I was.

Diversity will be accepted
Strangeness will not be ridiculed
But rejoiced upon
The fact that someone
Anyone
Had the capability to come out from
The miniscule box that society puts us in
Should be applauded.

Reading
Should never
EVER
EVER
Be a conundrum to my students.

I wish
To instill my love of reading
To instill a value in diversity
To ackwoldege the diverse learners
And to make my classroom
An environment where
EVERYONE
Feels secure and included
So that they won’t drown
As far and as fast
As I did.