You don't want me in your English class
I will notice the sheep—shepards counting them asleep.
I will notice the tears that come from work so abstracted
I will hurt when those taught became flat.
Run over. Pushed away. Stretched from themselves
that their scars have become skin.
I will notice the language you use and
all that you do not speak for.
I will notice the deep teaching that you
want to change us.
I will notice the dis-ease in me wanting
to teach you.
To educate. Even though I know teachings don't come in teaching.
I will notice the student silently crying
when discussions are nothing but disconnect.
I will notice the arguments that speak
outside of connection.
I will notice the tears within
in how education splits more than spools.
Because learning is a lot like magic.
If you want to take out a pen and tell
its story, you erase presence
and become a mechanized lorry.
Displacing who learns and who can teach
in many degrees.
Also
I will notice what is not being spoken to in all the speaking.
In 101 dalmations, I will notice
all their spots yet you will say
they are black. However, I would say
they are not.
That's the knot in education -
it's a lot like chess. Yet education
says black and white are in conflict.
What a game that is... to pit colors
in conflict.