poetry

the schools keep finding a way

the schools keep finding a way

when we said you can’t gather
they figured out how to get together
how to support our children
one living room to the next

when the towns were burning down
the schools sealed their ducts
so smoke stayed outside
and the buildings were saved

when flames chased toward the hospital
the schools called up their bus drivers
home on vacation, they drove toward danger
and rushed patients to safety

when whole neighborhoods burned
the schools reassured them –
you belong here with us
wherever you land

now they’re busing children
from the county’s four corners
so kids can have one bit of same
in this immense uncertainty

when the students had nothing
no backpacks no Chromebooks
no boots or winter coats
the schools greeted them
with a handful of everything

they set up free thrift shops
in the school parking lot
when we worried about the playground
they carted off the wood chips
when we worried about smoke
they tested the air

already feeding everyone
lunches for free
they added food pickup
for those whose pantries were gone

when I read that one-sixth
of Coal Creek Elementary families’ homes burned
(60 of 380 students’ homes are gone)
I began to understand

the immensity of the undertaking
to try to stabilize what has been deeply traumatized
to hold together a bit of the fabric
that once knit these families to each other

we ask so much of our schools:
our teachers, administrators,
support staff, custodians, paras, and kitchen staff,
school nurses, and counselors,
social workers, and bus drivers,
special ed teachers, psychologists,
registrars, front office staff,
and occupational therapists –
any title you think of at our schools –

we’re asking more of them now
than ever before
knowing that some of them
are also navigating their own loss

41 of them dealing
with their own new unhoused lives
while trying to stay hopeful
for the children they nurture

poetry

after reading the District’s reopening plan

after reading the District’s reopening plan

tonight I am picturing
my sons
in half-empty rooms
of masked children
their shoes rooted to the floor
amidst evenly-spaced desks

how could they endure
not being able to move
or play
or eat?

tonight I am picturing
my sons
listless in our living room
realizing education
is such a small part
of school

how could I ask them to go
another year without friends
another year home with us
another year far from
what they know?

but I want to keep them safe –
how can I anticipate
what they’ll most loathe
about next year?