Classroom Poems
1
They work in pairs
I listen silently
Make notes
Some think I’m lazy
Not working
Leaving them alone
Not correcting
Abandoned to their fate
Of making mistakes
Not conjugating
Forgetting auxiliaries
Not inverting in questions
Some look at me for words
Eyes pleading
Come on
Tell me
Help me
I don’t know the right word
You do
Others stop talking
They realise I’m listening
Can I ever get it right
Find a balance
Between what they think they need
And what I think they need?
2
The bright freezing colours of spring
Glancing off a roof
Trees still leafless
Stillness of an afternoon writing class
With small distracting noises
A distant bark
Five more minutes
A timed essay
Two more minutes
Get set, go
Who has decided I should do this?
It is not my choice
To do things this way
But still
As teacher
I have the power to worry them
Even while not actively seeking it
Their mindset supports the schema
That puts me here
In front of them
3
Screech of metal-legged desks
Dragged across the floor
Is this the non-threatening environment
Conductive to work
Words like concentration and disruption
Come to mind
But out of doors
Birds chirp
And birches sprout
Delicate miniatures of leaves
In palest of greens
Fluttering branchless
Levitating and dancing
Butterflies are less ephemeral
These will be other leaves tomorrow.
A Reading Class
They read silently
But to some
Silently is murmuring,
Laboriously deciphering
Alien words,
Chewing them over.
Concentration is bliss.
The door opens, shuts noisily.
“Hello, I’m sorry.”
The magic is broken.
Interruption is hell, not hello.
Mixed Ability Class
Some bored because unchallenged
Others irretrievably lost
Unless I stop yet one more time
To explain what I’d thought trivial, obvious
I discover
That what is obvious to me, and to most people,
Requires a first-time every time
Conscious mental process
In my teacher-dependent students.
Distinctions and dichotomies
I hate them whilst I love them.
They cling to me while I
Am into fostering learner independence.
And though I do, I think
‘Who am I to force them
To do what they don’t want to do?’
I’m walking an ethical tightrope
Between unethically insisting on
Something they don’t yet want
And not doing what I believe is good.
Dictionaries
They’re weird things, dictionaries.
Friends sometimes,
Another world to get lost in
When I’d rather not be in class
But free-associating
Between examples on the phonetic chart,
Aircraft, illustrations of trees,
Jupiter, and the man I love.
Smiling at a memory brought back
Seemingly from nowhere
Triggering off daydreams.
Dictionaries (vs. Plans)
Some don’t need them much
Others can’t do much without them
Slavishly look up every other word,
Then never get to do the task
As I had planned last night.
It’s absolutely true
That they will learn
Not what you plan
But what they will
When the time’s right.
You can provoke them
Move them, shake them
Pull the ground from under their feet
And still
They might not get it, quite.
Tired exam class
Traffic noise from window
Sunny summer morning
Silent reading practice
Pages crisply turning
Heads bent down on books
Chewing gum
Making notes
Asking partners
Holding heads
Chinese whispers
Thai mumblings
..............................
Motivation flagging...
I don’t see the point of
Doing so much testing
Classroom Poems
Linda Yael, ArgentinaThe Year of Japan: Part 2
Janet Braithwaite, UK