short notes

Can we get one more day on this glorious vacation? No? That’s unfortunate. I was just getting used to hearing the sounds of nothing in the morning. A few notes:1. I can’t contain it anymore. I tried, Eva, and it’s just not working. I’m going to the Kanye West concert in NYC! My face absolutely illuminated when I got the pre-sales tickets I wanted. I even went ahead and passed the code along to some friends so they could share in the experience. See you all in May.

2. I know I’m a math teacher because, when I’m on the elliptical machine reading the time remaining, I start to compare the minute and second timers, and answer if they’re relatively prime. For instance, at 14:28, they’re not relatively prime because they have a common factor of 14, but a few seconds later, at 14:15, the numbers are relatively prime because they only have a common factor of 1. Sick right?

3. Speaking of which, JD knows how to write carnivals up. Check his version of The Math Carnival here, where he features 2 of my posts (humbled, really I am).

4. Getting back from Miami with maybe a total of 8 hours of sleep over the last couple of nights, I knew today would be equally as dizzying. I also found myself profoundly motivated to make things happen. It’s a mix of seeing my father healthy again but in an interesting situation, my godsister losing her life to a suicidal maniac (which I spoke of before, but I refuse to go into detail here for obvious reasons), and just having a better understanding of the time I’m given … or lack thereof. It’s a sense of urgency that transforms normal people into legends, ordinary groups into championship teams, and blank pages into hallowed pieces of literature.

“I had a dream I could buy my way to heaven
When I awoke I spent that on a necklace
I told G_d I’d be back in a second
Man, it’s so hard not to act reckless
To whom much is given, much is tested
Get arrested, guess until he get the message
I feel the pressure, under more scrutiny
And what’d I do? Act more stupidly …”

Kanye West - “Can’t Tell Me Nothin’”

With those few bars, he evokes the questions and fears of everything that comes with success, whatever your definition. On the one hand, you have him finally reaching his dreams, updating and personalizing another scribe’s dream as his own. On the other hand, he understands the pressure and pitfalls this success leads to, even if its unintentional. All this drama that successful people go through can either make or break them, as cliché as that sounds.

In all honesty, I wonder if this latest series of events that have laid themselves on my path is just a way for the spirit around all of us to substantiate future successes, like the way we prefer to watch / read biographies of people who’ve had grand success but also the most crucibles along the way. Even if this was the case, I’m the only one who could fully understand this movie, because I write like hell, but due to circumstances out of my control (and I suspect others’ too), I’d take some things with me to the grave.

But I’m feeling as ambitious as ever. I’m driven, and that’s what’s important. With all the naysayers and doubters I’ve had in my lifetime, even within my family, I’ve kept a cool head, calmly reminding myself that actions speak louder than words, and say, in the immortal words of Mr. West, “Wait ’till I get my money right …”

jose, who talks with so much emphasis …

Tagged as: inspiration, kanye west, short notes

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Before I continue, I just have to give a shout-out to my boy Andy G., who ileaves to Korea to teach English for a year next Saturday. This is significant for the both of us in that this man’s like a younger brother to me, and I’ll miss him while he’s there. His passion and compassion will make great qualities to the program, and hopefully he comes back as the same irreverent but a more grown version of the man he is today. Keep in touch, Andy. And no, if you do get married for some reason, I won’t kick you in the nuts like you asked me to. That’s Sunny’s job.

So with the week off I have, I’ll have plenty of time to give myself time to recuperate from the kids, and maybe write a little more in that ubiquitous manuscript every writer seems to have in their back pocket, at the very least for a conversational piece. I’ll be somewhere in NYC away from home from Sunday - Tuesday for some QT with the QT, and then Miami from Thursday - Sunday to visit my fully recovered father.

I love getting tagged for memes, and I can’t figure out why. It’s probably because it makes me feel important that someone would want my opinion … or simply that I get to withhold my best posts for another round, similar to Dwight Howard’s Slam Dunk contest routine tonight (that boy was an absolute slamimal and he can’t be caged).

Anyways, Shelly thinks I’d offer good tips on writing, and I laughed because there’s no way I’m sharing my secrets on this public forum. I never ever share any good advice on writing, and never thought I would either, until Shelly promised to add me on Facebook as a friend. After that, how could I resist?

3. Some Words You Should Never Misspell

Their. Believe. Embarrass. Wednesday. February. Piece. They’re. The. It’s and Its. Can’t.

There are just some words you can’t get away with misspelling, and these are just a few. I’m sorry, but I have a feeling that, if you’re targeting an intelligent audience, there are certain words you wouldn’t dare misspell. Some words you can get away with misspelling, especially if they have more than 3 syllables, but spell-checking and proofreading are your two best friends. That is, unless you intentionally misspelled the word to make a clearly stated point, then that’s cool.

2. Stay On Point, Whatever The Point

Blogs are notorious for their circuitous ruminations, and often, we wonder if the author knows the point they’re trying to make. Sometimes, it’s plainly obvious that the author simply wants to write their thoughts down, but there’s a difference between simply meandering and trying to make your point but not getting there. Even in poetry, I hate when certain poets lose me with their deceptive similes in favor of distracting us from the fact that they’re making no sense. Stay on point. You don’t necessarily have to be concise, but come sharp. I follow the previous statement pretty well.

1. Touch It, Bring It, Pay It, Watch It, Turn It, Leave It, Stop, Format It

Truer words were never spoken. Once you’ve learned the rules of writing, and can format great essays, you can abandon the rules completely. There’s a sense that we have to prove ourselves that we have some sense of literacy, after which we can veer far from the rules, and thus make our own. When I write, I think about the rules of writing for a little bit, then I break away from them until I find my voice.

The reality of this exercise, though, is that there’s no right or wrong answer. Some people need structure when they write, making an outline of their thoughts and ideas before putting down a single word. Others like to read a ton of literary pieces before they write their own, which is a great idea except that some people get stuck on trying to write like someone else. I abide by my own advice; just give me a keyboard and my music list, and I’m ready to rock.

I tag (hoping to awake some sleeping giants):

Amber at bamcabral.net

Harm at simplyharmony.com

Tamara at xanga.com/mental_revelatiions

and

Kelvin at xanga.com/pre_k

jose, who would have more to talk about, but really, personal tragedies are no laughing matter. this says it all …

Tagged as: short notes, writing

{ 7 comments }

A few notes:

1. I spotted a couple of gems online that I’d like to share with some of you:

• Sickamore of XXL Mag fame posted a blog comparing the Manning family to the Corleones (Godfather). Now that I’ve actually watched The Godfather, I get the joke. It was funny as hell to me, so I had to share.
• Pandagon posted the definitive guide to Nice Guys, and a subsequent post in comic form. As a former Nice Guy, I approve of this post.
• Aaron posted this crazy dope video about math education that I’m sure a good third of you will appreciate. The other 2/3rds better know the ledge …

2. Yesterday, I went on a photo shoot with my boy Jon Serrano, an up and coming artist extraordinaire. This year’s going to be fun. He’s got some serious projects in the works, and I’m a part of that.

3. It’s a wonderful Sunday, so I need to hit that gym early. I’m already seeing a little progress, but I still need to work harder to get to my target weight. I’m trying to lose that Bygbaby weight.

4. Speaking of which, I’ve already done Crazy 8s, and Lucky 7s, so I’ve been tagged to do the Sick 6s. With no further adieu …

• Georgetown was my first choice for college because one of my teachers went there, but also because Patrick Ewing went there. Syracuse, its rival school in the Big East, became my #1 choice junior year of high school, after I came to my senses. Consequently, I’m happy with the decision I made going there.
• I clean my room thoroughly maybe 13 times out of the year.
• My Google Reader has sufficiently calmed down my OCD habits of checking people’s blogs for updates and responses to comments. I’ve also begged asked people to fix their RSS capabilities (Bam, .chanel) or enhance them (The Unapologetic Mexican) so I don’t get tempted to regress. Big shout-out to Dan by the way for asking me to go full monty on the RSS feeds. Most of you seem to prefer that.
• I lesson plan the morning of, though I usually know a few days before what I’ll be teaching and how I’ll teach it. For the last week, though, I’ve been lesson planning early. Maybe it’s because I get more sleep nowadays.
• I got comebacks for every diss my kids serve to me, but I try not to cross over the “mama” line … except once. The kid in question said, “Mr. V, you’re not a G, you’re an H, like a herb! HA! You get no girls. In response, I said, “If that’s so, then why is it that when I call your mom, she always picks up?” He ran out of the room in shame and never crossed the line with me again, and whenever someone else tries to diss me, everyone tries to stop the person. Like I told another one of my kids, “I would care, but I got an icebox where my heart used to be.”
• I’m a terrible procrastinator, and I’ve left assignments undone.
• BONUS: I have a rap recording out there somewhere in the world. Good luck finding it.

I’m done. Like I said, I’m off to the gym.

jose, who loves carnivals that read like narratives …

p.s. - This week, I got some serious heat for you all.

p.p.s. - Please sign here. It’s for the 94K voters in California whose votes didn’t get counted because the bubble sheet was badly designed. Please. I implore thee. Pretty please. With a cherry on top. Err, that’s too 5th grade. Just do it. Or else. I’ll knock your Technorati numbers into oblivion. OK, maybe not. Just … just go. Thanks.

Tagged as: meme, short notes

{ 4 comments }

1. Some of my readers will most definitely hate me for this, but fuck it: I’m not feeling the Stevie Wonder version of “Happy Birthday.” Yes, I realize it’s for MLK, and yes, I realize it has historical significance as a marker for getting his birthday recognized as a national holiday, but frankly, I’m just not feeling it, and I’m thoroughly happy no one came to me with that version of the song or else I might have been wincing through that cacophony.

2. My birthday was pretty awesome. Tons of messages on all my social networks, a chocolate fudge cake, some poems, some gifts, some visits from alum that I taught in my previous years, and an assortment of happy birthday chants before, during, and after all my classes. Absolute insanity. I even walked into the lunchroom and the whole 5th-6th grade sang to me, and I definitely didn’t ask for it. Special.

3. My lady gave me a warm-up NY Yankees jersey, a poem (that I won’t get into here because it’s pretty amazing), and a card whose title read “Make a Wish.” Inside, the primary message read: “Dreamers know the magic of wishing upon stars.” She always knows the right things to say when the moment comes. As for how I replied, “uh … I have no words for this. I’m humbled.” Clunk. I need Denzel’s screenwriters.

4. Of course, my birthday wasn’t completely without a snag. My homeroom has gotten in so much trouble with the floor that they were told they couldn’t dress down on Friday while the rest of the school had dress-down day. I personally voted for them to get dress-down day simply because I don’t think my homeroom is that terrible as they are just a bad experiment by people who don’t really care about the kids. The other teachers, however, voted against their dress-down day, so it was immediately enacted, and it was more supported by the fact that, as the vote happened, one of my girls was hit in the eye by an object one of my boys threw, so she had a nasty bloodclot and had to go home. The vote was enacted by the AP, so of course, I had to respect it.

After they found out about the vote, I closed the door and had a little talk with them. “Let me talk to you for a second, ladies and gentlemen. When I started this profession, I felt I could help classes who honestly needed someone to support them and care for them, from my first class all the way up to this class. Now for you, the question becomes, how badly do you want to succeed? How great do you want to become? How much more effort can you individually put in? When someone comes and reaches out to help you, what will you do? What happened today with (the girl) happened because none of you looked out for that person. Unfortunately, you all don’t look at yourselves as friends, family, or even teammates, but you are. And it’ll be this way for the next 3 years. I know what I need to do to keep pushing you, but how will you get it together? There’s only so many times we can keep you after school. Come together. Make it happen.”

Those were my last words to them on my birthday. Of course, the next day, a third of them decided to civilly disobey by coming in no uniform, which the AP found disrespectful to her because she said they couldn’t come dressed down. Understood. My statement to my homeroom?

“Well I see a lot of you aren’t in uniform, which is fine. Those of you who do have uniform, that’s good because you did what you had to do for the class. Those of you who aren’t in uniform, however, here’s what I’ll tell you. It’s well within your right and liberty to protest, and I have respect for that. [slight applause here] Just know that if you’re going to protest, then you have to recognize the consequences. [a collective gulp here]. OK, take out your binders.”

I’m telling you, this is a special homeroom.

jose, who will go to the gym today for the first time in a couple of months, I promise …

Tagged as: education, short notes

{ 6 comments }

A few notes of interest:

1. Yes, I cleaned up around here. Click refresh, and tell me what happens to that header. Do it a good 7 more and you’ll get your wishes granted ;-).

2. The oddest thing happened on Friday. One minute, my Feedburner says I have 83-93 readers, and the next, I have 299! Sick. What’s more, it goes back down the next day. Weird.

3. Yes, it’s my birthday on Thursday. Fun.

4. Memes that highlight the differences between men and women / Blacks, Whites, Asians, Latinos, etc. / rich and poor in a defensive and divisive way bore me to tears these days. I used to be enthralled by them when I was younger because I was able to contrast my unsophisticated observations about those differences and the ill-conceived notions of roles different people take in those stereotypes. While I agree that some stereotypes come from real research, I’m more ready to believe that those lists along with hack comedians and delusional, angry people make these lists up to reinforce divisions amongst the sexes, races, and classes when we’re really all people.

5. Cloverfield had an awesome preview, but it was an awesomely bad movie. Great effects, and snide social commentary that in some ways, I found interesting, but that ending was abrupt as all hell. Rather than make us think for a second, it made us think to leave. People in the audience laughed about as much as they were scared and grossed out. I wouldn’t watch it again, and I want some of my money back, but if you do watch, prepare for the worst.

6. Yesterday was my boy Omar’s birthday, and whenever we all get together, it’s just a mess of historic proportions. We went to Carmine’s, a popular Italian restaurant on the Upper West Side with family-style dining. Anyways, Kenny, one of the realest dudes and resident ALM (Angry Latino Man), Mike, my homegirl’s boyfriend, and Omar had a heated discussion (some in the restaurant might have called it an argument, but that’s besides the point). Every so often, I’ll interject with an off-beat joke here and there, but last night, I was more good for a hearty, body-aching laugh.

As I’m observing them, I notice that, on their side of the table, Kenny’s sitting on the left, Mike’s on the right, and Omar’s at front and center of the table, appropriate if not ironic. At first, it was pleasant enough, with each side making their points, but then it got really intense, curses being flung across the table and the rest of us caught in the crossfire. I’m all for political conversation, and all the participants brought up awesome points from their side. Yet, what struck me the most was how, after all of that, they’re still friends.

Of course, I was more on Kenny’s side of the argument, even if I was sitting on Mike and Omar’s side of the table. After all, how can anyone at the table argue against poor people when we were all the sons and daughters of immigrants or poor people? We were all the privileged offspring of people who had just enough of the essentials, and for many of our relatives and neighbors, they weren’t lucky or privileged enough to receive a college education and live on a a much better income than minimum wage. It’s easy to dismiss that when we’ve never had to experience that for ourselves.

Not to say that our fathers were anything like Phillip Banks (of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air fame), but we sometimes get the Carlton and Hillary effect, where the parents consciously protect their children from knowing about those struggles or the children live incongruously from that reality, concentrating solely on case study of self rather than percentage. Will, the hoodlum he is, often reminded them of the position they’re in and from whence they came, which is why Ashley, the most liberal of the three Banks offspring, turns out the way she does. She was still rich, but she got a better sense of what came before her, and that’s important.

But I’m a socialist by nature, so I’m inclined to this opinion, and I’ve already written my stance on all of those matters, but my opinion doesn’t dismiss their contributions to their families or their people. After all, we still shared our personal lives with each other, and ate from the same dishes. There’s still, inevitably, common threads of human decency that run through all of us at that table, and somewhere in between all of our arguments lied the solution: a huge plate of ice cream with all the fixings. We all sat there for a good 5 minutes, quietly letting the food settle. Mike ate the candle apparently, mistaking it for licorice. Omar and I laughed about stupid MySpace people. Kenny started hating on people. We left the restaurant and all went our separate ways, but we’d see each other again. As it should be.

jose, who can’t stop looking at his theme, and has Pearson and Aaron to thank for the inspiration …

Tagged as: blogs, family, movies, politics, poverty, short notes

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- My Year in Review, (Information Design Remix):

Click for the huge version of this image. I personally like how I condensed my year into a picture. I wish I could have put more into it, but it’ll be OK.

This was inspired by dy/dan, who asked his readers to participate in an information design contest, and I was more than willing to do just that. It was also inspired by A Tribe Called Quest’s “Scenario”.

- From an e-mail I sent out to some fellow bloggers:

“… we need to remember how, as helpful as technological advances have brought us the ability to effectively and efficiently communicate, it’s also been a means of deterring and tainting the votes (think Diebold and Co. in Florida and Ohio). If a person in our collective doesn’t believe any candidate truly represents their personal views, then they have every right to register to vote but not put in their ballot. If we see for instance that, despite how different everyone makes 2 candidates in a party, they’ve voted the same way about a foreign war over the last 2-3 years, then how much of a difference can there be? I personally have no objections to a particular blogger in the collective supporting a certain candidate, but I would also prefer to make an informed decision based on their positions on the topics close to me and not be associated with the same candidate simply because someone else in the collective supports them …”

More on this in the days to come.

- Speaking of which, I recently visited Shelly’s blog, and in one of her entries, she philosophizes about the importance of not complaining, and whether that’s a viable option in today’s world. Of course, I said that there has to be a distinction between complaining and speaking up. Complaining tends to be more self-centered and self-indicting than speaking up. For instance, in our school, we have complainers and people who speak up. The complainers complain about how cold it is in a room when they hardly have clothing on, or that they lost their e-mail even though they pressed the wrong button and everyone else’s e-mail works just fine on the same computer on the same server. Some staff members might even refer to them as crazy, though the complainers won’t refer to themselves as such.

On the other hand, we have people in our system who do an awful lot of speaking up, about the conditions that we set for our children, about the subpar teaching salaries, and the lack of connection between the “higher-ups” and the people who care. Their concerns don’t get addressed, and whenever they bring these issues up, they’re mistaken for complainers, and thus, while fellow staff members won’t call them crazy, they self-diagnose as crazy (they must be crazy for making common sense). That’s the difference. This isn’t strictly isolated to teachers but to all professions; much of this makes me wonder if we can differentiate between these two.

Really, as I’ve said before, we have too many people who are complicit and conformists with what happens around them. When we don’t speak up against an injustice or a policy that affects not just us but an entire community of people (it’s really about percentages, which I’ll get to at some point this week), we have a degree of culpability. I’m not saying we need to run out there and burn buildings to the ground (word to Immortal Technique and a previous version of myself). Rather than tell the dissenter to shut up (especially when you wholeheartedly agree with their assertions and even rant and rave in your own spaces about these issues), gain courage from that person and support them how you see fit.

Speaking up takes good judgment; complaining is a cowardly undertaking. Unlike what I wrote on Shelly’s blog, I’m making a distinction between these two animals. And really, when it comes down to it, it only takes a few people to make that positive change. Until we make that distinction and effectively address that to naysayers, then the protests, blogs, letters to the editors, and the plethora of weapons of civil disobedience are really for naught.

jose, who saw the rubber room trailer and simply nodded at its truth …

Tagged as: information design, revolution, short notes

{ 9 comments }

A few notes:

- I honestly can’t wait till A Christmas Story comes on TBS. If you don’t know what the hype is about, watch this parody (under 30 seconds and with bunnies!). But it’s obviously not better than the real thing.

- I was having a conversation with my girl about the differences between those who get everything and those who don’t. In her school, though they are underprivileged children for the most part, the school provides them everything from computers to the pencils and paper they write with. In turn, they act entitled and oftentimes callous, and don’t bother giving their teachers any presents whatsoever except 1 or 2.

By contrast, I get lots of stuff for the holidays, my birthday, and definitely the end of the year. I do consider myself a bit of an aberration but every teacher in the school has gotten something for this Christmas. The school doesn’t have the means to provide the children with everything, so it’s as if we’re both in the same struggle together. In terms of economic class, my lady and I work with the same population, and they come from the same neighborhoods, but just that little change in environment can make the difference between the spoiled and the grateful.

Maybe these contrasts are the symbolisms for the populations’ respect for teachers in general. More on this later, I guess.

- Speaking of which, this Christmas, I got a good 10-15 gifts from the kids, which never ceases to humble me. Granted, some of these gifts might definitely be regifted (I have too many SouthPole shirts and have no need for scented candles), but I’ll still take a picture of the gifts as mementos of their generosity. The staff also gave me a good 10 Christmas cards, which I’m definitely grateful for. Still chewing on some chocolates.

- I just watched Zeitgeist about 5 months late, courtesy of thefreeslave. Please watch and let me know what you think. Please.

- I decided to dial it down on the Christmas shopping. Only a few people will get gifts for this Christmas since I usually go all out for my fam and friends. This time around, I’ll just do what I can and catch up throughout the 12 days of this holiday.

jose, who will definitely spend some quality time with his family even if it kills him …

Tagged as: christmas, short notes

{ 8 comments }

A few short notes:

- What I’m Listening To:

Zion, “Zun Da Da”
Babyface, “Wonderful Tonight” (originally by Eric Clapton)
Juan Luis Guerra, “El Niagra en Bicicleta”

- I was getting my students in line when some conversation came up about candy between me and the kids in the front. Each of the students said a piece of candy they liked. Then one of them says, “I know what I like to eat, Mr. Vilson. I like to eat women!” I literally stopped, gave him one of these:

  and

I had to turn around so they didn’t have to see my tears going up the stairs. I’m not sure if he knows what he was saying, so I really didn’t reprimand him for that. In other arenas, I’ve been known to say things like that too.

- A third of my student population either has relatives I’ve taught or know, or they look like people I’ve taught or know. I feel like Jose Arcadio Buendia in 100 Years of Solitude. If you don’t know anything about that book, get familiar.

- PostSecret: This postsecret still freaks me out.

- Sexy sexy. I love suggestive pictures.

- Much of my reading consists of blogs that highlight the negative aspects of life in the hopes that someone will hear us out and change what’s going on. Yet, if we don’t concentrate on the positive, we lack balance. I love getting enthralled in political discussion as much as the next person, but those discussions often become murky. Education can’t be all bad right? Right …

- “The Screamer and me” by Jose Vilson

Shorty wop with a fro dome
Rising 2 inches above his 4.5 foot frame
Basketball dreams
Chipped tooth gap
Smooth and cute smile
Pistol full of bullets that he is
Before my fingers rub together
Airing out that snap
He does just that
Screeching expletives and semi-curses
To the ceiling, to the next student, to the heavens
G_d’s cursed his family
His mother’s in and out of the hospital
He yells for attention, and he’ll get it by any means
He’s the least conspicuous, the most dangerous
His rage a decade his senior
The legacy of negativity from the educational system
Falls once again on him,
And he revels in the inevitability
He meets me with the same devious tricks
I meet him with water
I call out his soul when the body ramparts his sensitivities
He’s rejected everywhere he goes
His home is torn
But he’s too blind to see the home I’ve made
He’s never been approved of
But I bother him until he gets to the next class
He screams “Oh my G_d!”
And G_d answers with my patience …

jose, who’s always willing to discuss topics people feed to him, too …

Tagged as: poetry, postsecret, short notes

{ 5 comments }

Believe it or not, mi gente, I do listen to the oddest of tracks. My latest iPod additions include:

• Robbie Williams, “Millenium”
• Journey, “Don’t Stop Believing”
• Feist, “1234″
• Timbaland feat. One Republic, “Apologize”
• John Lennon, “Happy XMas (War Is Over)”

The New York Knicks suck. And I’m in pain right now just watching their sadness. We get beat by one of the best teams in the league (Boston Celtics) and the worst (Philadelphia Sixers). Any educator can tell you it starts from the administration. Someone fire James Dolan and make his father Charles sell the team, too.

I went to a bar on Friday night and there was a pretty little waitress there. She had these great facial features, and the only thing I thought to myself was “Yo, aren’t you my MySpace friend?” Social networks: another way to get great service at a bar.

We’re having a Secret Santa event at work, and while I’m a fan of what I received the first time we had a present exchange, I wanted to remove all doubt from whoever would get me something by telling the coordinator they could look me up on Amazon and pull up my wish list. I love it.

Last Friday, some of my children got disrespectful with me, and honestly, if I wasn’t a more reflective teacher, I’d probably consider taking the day off tomorrow, too. Even though the day itself wasn’t terrible, it didn’t end well. My only solace is that, as someone who constantly reflects on his actions, I can pinpoint where things started, and if not, at the very least, find a good solution to come in to class with. More on this tomorrow.

750am
I think of ways to change my energy
Match it to the level I want my pupils to feel
Anticipation of bad moods
Negative backstories
Improper namecalling
Anxiety over homework misunderstanding
Missed opportunities
Unplanned lesson plan
Fervor for a brand new day
Beautifully painted pictures
Correct and thorough answers
755am
Patters of sneakers and shoes hit the stairwell
Clean board
Buttoned-up collar
Rested mind
Chalk and attendance sheet in hand
Practices of my salutations
In between my classroom and the hallway
800am
Good morning
Come all my faithful
I await you with open mind and open-ended question
Amen …

jose, who needs a soul clap right now …

Tagged as: new york knicks, poetry, short notes

{ 9 comments }